In the name of
the Word made flesh, Jesus Christ. Amen.
Have you ever been at a party or
social event where you didn’t know anyone? Now, some of you are extroverts and
are thinking, “What’s the problem with that?” But maybe it isn’t a party, maybe
it’s a hostile meeting at work and everyone in the room is an adversary.
Perhaps it’s an airport terminal on a late-night layover. Or maybe you’re in a
hospital waiting room, full of anxiety. If you can imagine any of these
situations, you know that what makes these tense, uncomfortable, and lonely
situations better is having an old friend show up out of nowhere to be with
you.
In a small way, those examples point
us to the power of the Incarnation of Jesus Christ. The foundation of our faith
is that God, the creator, redeemer, and sustainer of all things was born of
Mary and lived as Jesus of Nazareth. As this saving event was foretold in the
Old Testament and announced by angels in the New Testament, there was an
anticipation that the Messiah would be not merely a heroic person, but would be
God come among us. This is what the Hebrew phrase “Emmanuel” means – God with
us. And at its core, this is what is so powerful and amazing about the
Incarnation, that God was and is with us in Jesus.
In the same way that a familiar face
can make all the difference in a difficult situation, the presence of God among
us makes all the difference in our lives. We need God as our companion because
it is a dark world. We can talk about theological themes like Sin, Death, meaninglessness,
and doubt – and we know that we need someone who knows us, loves us, and is
mighty enough to be our champion when we face that darkness. And sometimes the
darkness that we face isn’t quite as philosophical; sometimes it’s much more
tangible as in cancer, being laid off, struggling with addiction, or worrying
about children. When we are facing such darkness, having a light to guide and
comfort us can make all the difference in the world. And in Jesus Christ, we are
given that shining light of God’s presence with us.
This is where this morning’s Gospel
text is so helpful. It’s an incredibly difficult and terrifying text. It’s a
bit out of order, as tomorrow we’ll mark the Feast of the Epiphany when the
magi visit Jesus. Today’s reading picks up right after they offer their gifts
of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. The magi had told King Herod that they’d swing
by the royal palace on their way out of town to let him know where this new
King of the Jews was living. But they knew better than that, so they returned
home by another road and this absolutely enraged Herod. He ordered that all
male children under age two be gathered up and murdered.
Sadly, the people of Israel have
known such hatred and genocides many times before. They were enslaved in Egypt,
Jerusalem was destroyed on multiple occasions, there was the Inquisition, the
Holocaust, and we have seen in the news the rise of anti-Semitism in our own
nation – synagogues being targeted for violence, a machete attack in a rabbi’s
home at Hanukkah, and swastikas being painted on Jewish community centers. This
is why Matthew recalls the words from Jeremiah about Rachel weeping for her
children – there was weeping by mothers as their sons were being shipped off or
killed by the Babylonians in the 500s BC. It was into this world of weeping
that Jesus came and reminds us of why we so desperately need a Savior. It’s a
reminder to us that, though King Herod has long since died, there are Herods
born in every generation for us to contend with.
Now, this heinous action not out of
character for Herod. Out of jealousy and mistrust, he had his wife and one of
his sons killed. He was such a narcissistic maniac that he had ordered that, on
the day of his death, that several prominent citizens should be murdered so
that people would be mourning on the day that he died instead of rejoicing.
Herod was a terrible, terrible ruler. But he was tolerated.
There was no uprising against Herod,
no efforts to overthrow him, as had happened with other notoriously evil
leaders. Why would people tolerate such an immoral and dangerous leader? Well,
though Herod was cruel, he wasn’t completely ineffective. Under Herod, the
economic status of Israel was good, the borders were secure, and the wealthy
were comfortable. Yes, many people thought that Herod went too far, many of
them probably wished that he would tone it down. But people were willing to
overlook these flaws as simply the cost of doing business with a man like
Herod. After all, it wasn’t their children that were murdered, and in the midst
of the blood-curdling screams of mothers and infants, they remained silent
because it was politically expedient to do so. Evil always has accomplices. Let
us never forget that Jesus was born into a world that tolerated children being terrorized
and killed, and so we desperately need a Savior.
I can’t stress how important this story
about the slaughter of the Holy Innocents is to the Christmas story. At our
house, we try to have a somewhat more Biblically informed nativity set. At the
beginning of Advent, we put out the manger, shepherds, and animals. Mary and
Joseph start in another room and move closer to the crèche every day. Likewise,
the magi are on a journey. Mary and Joseph arrive on December 24 and then the
baby shows up in the manger on Christmas morning. Then on January 6, the magi
arrive as the shepherds have left. But if I was really going to do it right, I
would then splatter blood over the whole crèche to remember this genocide.
Christmas is about flesh and blood – the Word becoming flesh and blood that was
shed in response.
Sometimes you’ll hear people, and church
people specifically, complaining about the commercialization of Christmas. That’s
a very minor concern compared to the sentimentalization of Christmas. Yes,
there is a sense of peace and joy that comes with Christmas, but there’s also a
much darker side that cannot be ignored. If it’s all joy and peace and things
going our way, then why do we need Jesus? A Messiah that’s essentially rainbows
and unicorns is one that’s irrelevant and unnecessary. But thanks be to God
that’s not what Jesus is. God is with us not only in the moments of serenity,
but also in the midst of the horrors of life.
You all have probably figured out by
now that one of the most seminal quotes to my faith is Julian of Norwich’s “All
shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.”
In conversation with one of you several months ago after I quoted Julian in a
sermon, the question came up about how we can say that “all is well” in such a
dark world. I’m not sure those Bethlehem mothers would affirm that “all is
well.” And I clarified that though all shall be well, not all shall be easy.
Jesus comes as our Savior, which
implies that we need to be saved from something. And that’s what the Incarnation
is all about, about God’s presence of light in a dark world. The Coventry Carol
depicts the horrific incident in the form of a lullaby that the mothers of the
doomed children sing to them – Lully, lullay, thou little tiny child. / Bye
bye, lully, lullay… Herod the king, in his raging, / chargèd he hath this day /
his men of might in his own sight / all young children to slay.” Though that
carol was written in the 1500s in England, we can be sure that those Jewish
mothers in Bethlehem in the 1st century sang a similar song to their
children. Sadly, the lullaby didn’t change the outcome, but it changed how the event
was experienced. And that is what God among us does.
Now if you want to know why this is
the way that it is, I’ll confess that I have no idea. Believe me, if it were my
kids that were under threat of slaughter by Herod, I’d like a Savior with a
sword more than one with a shoulder to cry on. When I pray for someone’s cancer
to be healed, what I’m hoping for is remission, not consolation. Whether we
want it to be or not, that’s not what Jesus is about. The French philosopher
Simon Weil said, “The extreme greatness of Christianity lies in the fact that
it does not seek a supernatural cure for suffering, but a supernatural use of
it.”
We see this in the slaughter of the
innocents and we see it at the Cross. Jesus does not erase suffering or explain
why suffering happens; instead, Jesus redeems suffering with love. Again, why
it is this way, I don’t know. But I think that asking the question “why,” while
interesting, is ultimately the wrong question to ask because there simply isn’t
an answer. Instead, what we have is love, a love that is stronger than Sin,
more lasting than Death, and truer than fear. Our trust and hope is that through
the love of Jesus, all things will be made new. And the Incarnation of God in
Jesus of Nazareth is the dawning of this possibility of new life.
Jesus doesn’t erase violence, he challenges
it and robs it of its power. This is why Matthew includes this in the nativity
story of Jesus. Matthew is the only gospel to record this event, so he could
have left it out. It is a rather uncomfortable and troubling story. If we read
it with the question of “why” on our minds, we might think it’s a story of how
God lets evil happen. But that is not why Matthew shares this story with us. To
be clear, the person to blame for these dead children is Herod, not God.
The
reason why we have this story as a part of Holy Scripture is because it shows
us that in a world full of Herods, God came to be with us. Having someone with
you can make all the difference, especially when that person is no one less
than the Creator of the cosmos and the Savior of our souls. Many of us have
learned that the worst thing that can happen to us is to be alone; truly alone
where we have no meaningful relationships. We were created to be in community.
And so the ultimate salvation is offered to us when God becomes flesh to be
with us. We are never lost in Sin, we are never forgotten in Death, we are
never alone in suffering. This story, as well as the story of the Cross, shows
us that violence never gets the last word and that God is never absent.
God receives with mercy those innocent
victims of violence into eternal peace and love. God consoles and comforts the
grieving. God takes a terrible situation and does not abandon us, but rather
continues to pursue the plan of salvation despite the evil intentions of Herod.
This is what God does in our own suffering – God extends mercy to us, God
comforts us with a love that hopes all things and endures all things, and God
works through our pain and loss to redeem what is broken and remind us that we
are never, never alone.
This morning’s Psalm proclaims that “The
sparrow has found her a house and the swallow a nest where she may lay her
young; by the side of your altars, O Lord.”
Our home is in the love of God and because of Jesus, the Word made flesh, we
are never without a companion, we are never without hope, we never have to face
life alone, we are never without this love that makes all things well. Jesus is
God with us. If you want a New Year’s resolution, let it be this: know that you
are loved by God and live your life accordingly, because you are never, never
alone.
