Matthew 2:1-12
Much of the time the stories from scripture live in our imaginations somewhat differently than they live on the pages of the Bible. This morning we sing an old familiar song, “We three kings of orient are, bearing gifts we travers afar.” And yet the scripture says nothing about them being kings. And, whatever we call them – kings, magi, wise men – the scripture never mentions how many of them there were. We only infer that from the number of gifts that were mentioned.
Nonetheless, every nativity scene has three men bearing gifts, often wearing crowns. Because they’re kings. Only, they’re not. We’re really not sure what they are – except we know they are foreign. These guys are out-of-towners, and I think that helps to explain why they act as dumb as they do.
They go to the king – Herod – to ask him for directions. They waltz right into Herod’s court and announce that they have come to see the newborn king of the Jews; would Herod be so kind as to point them in the right direction. You know, so they might worship him. They know nothing about Herod if they actually think he is going to hear this as good news. They are naïve, to put it kindly.
On hearing this, Matthew tells us, Herod is afraid. He quickly does a little investigating of his own, to confirm that there is indeed something for him to be afraid of, then he returns to his visitors. He composes his face to mask his fear, then tells them to please go ahead and find this newborn king, then come back and tell him where he is, so Herod may go worship him too.
As if.
The story we tell every year at Christmas is a story of love and wonder – or, as we say in the hymn, “wonders, wonders of his love.” It’s a story we make when we take the bits we like from Matthew and Luke and mix them together into something wonderful. We bring together the virgin Mary and Joseph, the baby lying in the manger, the shepherds carrying their lambs, and three kings. We put them all under the roof of this barn, with an angel hovering over them. The faces are serene and beautiful. No one really looks surprised or confused about all of this.
We take all these bits and pieces and paste them together, and this is the story that lives in our imaginations – more vividly than the story we find on the pages of the gospels. But when we look more closely at the story on the page, we find some other things. We find, much to our disappointment, that evil lurks all around.
In the story we like to tell at Christmas, Herod doesn’t really have a part. But in this text for today, the story of the wise men, or magi, we see him. And if we look closely, we see not only what he says, but what he does.
In these 12 verses of Chapter 2, we hear that the wise men were warned in a dream not to return to Herod. But why? If we keep reading, we find out why. The angel returns to tell Joseph that Herod is embarking on a mission to search and destroy.
Matthew confirms for the reader that King Herod’s intentions are anything but pure and worshipful. In spite of what he says, we know who he is. He is a tyrannical and insecure ruler who will do anything necessary to remove a threat to his power. He is the personification of the idea that absolute power corrupts absolutely.
The angel urges Joseph to take the mother and child and flee from Herod, which he does, finding refuge in Egypt. And when Herod learns that he has been outfoxed by the magi and the carpenter, he is enraged.
This is where things start to get really ugly.
In his insane fury, Herod begins the slaughter of the innocents. He orders the killing of all the children in and around Bethlehem under the age of two years. And Matthew quotes the prophet Jeremiah, “a voice was heard in Ramah, wailing and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children; she refused to be consoled, for they are no more.”
Some say this probably didn’t happen. Even so, we know there is truth in the story, because these things do happen. This level of evil exists. We have seen massacres on such a grand scale. And we know, from historians of the time, that King Herod never shied away from killing. History tells us, and the daily news affirms, that evil lives in all times and places.
And Matthew, while he doesn’t dwell on the existence of evil, does tell us something important about it – that so often it is born of fear. Herod is afraid. He is afraid of losing his power, afraid that anyone who is strong enough to take it from him is also cruel enough to treat him as he has treated others.
In his fear he connives, but he is out-connived – and then he becomes infuriated. Psychologists disagree about which emotion is the most primitive in humans – whether it is fear or rage. It probably doesn’t matter, because they tend to be so closely intertwined. In fear, we see, the Herods of the world rage and destroy.
Eventually, Herod dies. That ever-faithful angel comes to Joseph again to let him know it is safe to return home, and so he does, settling in Nazareth. And the child Jesus thrives.
In the Christmas season, when we celebrate the light that came into the world, we still look at the darkness. Not to spoil the festive mood. Simply because the darkness is the reason for the light.
I came across a quote from the Christian writer, G.K. Chesterton, saying: “there is something in the world more mystical than darkness, and stronger than strong fear.” And here in the Christmas story, we find that something. It is this story in the second chapter of Matthew that shows it to us: the love that came to earth in a newborn child, this is stronger than strong fear.
The evil doesn’t go away; the things that cause us to be afraid are still here. But the story of Christmas gives us all the power we need to dispel the fear. It empowers us to turn our gaze on the evil acts of Herod and know that this small, fearful, and mad tyrant is nothing compared to the power of God.
Everything, even the Herods of the world, wilt and faint before this story of wondrous love.
