Scripture: Isaiah 63:7-9, Psalm 148
Hebrews 2:10-18 Matthew 2:13-23
If
today’s Gospel text were to be made into a movie, it would likely be rated PG13
at the very least, if not R, with warnings that due to the level of violence,
some parts are not suitable for children.
Likely such a movie would come with another warning: do not try this at home. Today’s Gospel reading is hard to read or to
listen to without recoiling with horror and revulsion. It’s a reminder that the Gospel is not just a
bunch of bedtime stories or fairy tales, but rather that the Gospel comes to us
in the middle of all the ugliness and violence that life dishes out – in
ancient times or in our time.
Matthew’s
Gospel circulated among an early community of Jewish converts to the way of
Jesus. For Matthew’s readers, it was
very important that Jesus’ life and ministry was connected to the Old Testament
stories of God’s faithfulness to their ancestors. Just as Joseph in the Old Testament received
guidance from God through a series of dreams, so did the Joseph of Matthew’s
Gospel. And so in Matthew’s Gospel, the
story of Jesus parallels the stories of Israel.
Just as the Old Testament Joseph and his brothers eventually ended up as
refugees in Egypt – this was before a new Pharoah came to enslave the Jews, so
Joseph, Jesus’ father, took Jesus into Egypt. Just as Pharoah decreed the death of all male
babies in an attempt to reduce the size of the Jewish population, so Herod in
the New Testament decreed the death of all male babies two years of age and
younger in an attempt to kill the Christ child.
And just as the Jews were delivered from Egypt, so Jesus was brought out
of Egypt after Herod died.
This
Gospel also shows people responding to Jesus in sharply contrasting ways. The wise men – of whom we’ll hear more next
week – came to adore the newborn king, and to leave gifts. Joseph, following God’s direction as revealed
in a series of dreams – again, very like the Joseph of the Old Testament – is
obedient at every turn, even though it means great hardship and disruption of
his life and that of Mary and the Babe.
Herod, by contrast, sees the Babe as a threat to his power. Historical accounts of the period depict
Herod as mentally unstable and brutally violent, and so his actions are very
much in character for him. He had three of his own sons – all potential heirs
to his throne - executed, so he certainly would not have held back from
slaughtering other peoples’ children as well.
And so, three days after Christmas Each year, December 28, is the Feast
of the Holy Innocents, when we remember all those children – and scholars say that,
based on the population of Bethlehem at that period and the birthrate of the
period, the number may have come to around 20 or so - who were killed under the
power of the Roman Empire as it was used by Herod. Jesus is at the heart of the Christmas story,
but unfortunately Herod is part of the story as well.
Indeed,
today’s Gospel reading is very much about the use of power. We see contrasts between the ways in which
human beings use power, and the way in which God uses power. When human beings want to control or
dominate, we use force; we punish; at worst, we send armies; we kill and
destroy. When God wants to create
change; God sends new life; God sends a baby……as God sent a baby to Abraham and
Sarah, as God sent a baby to Moses’ parents, as God sent babies to Hannah, to
Zechariah and Elizabeth, and to Mary.
And to us. As Isaiah wrote, “Unto
us a Child is born; unto us a Son is given.”
Unto us! What will we do with the
Christ Child?
And
what will we do with all the other children who are created in God’s
image. You see, while the Feast of the
Holy Innocents was yesterday and won’t come around for another year, the killing
of other holy innocents, of other children created in God’s image, is with us
today, and will be with us tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after
that. Children die in school
shootings. Children die of preventable
diseases – die of the flu! - in detention camps along our southern border. Children die when they get caught in the crossfire
of gunshots on our city streets. Children
die in drone strikes overseas. And, yes,
children, mostly Palestinian children, still die in Bethlehem, pawns in the
conflict between Israel and Palestine. All of these children are created in
God’s image. Who knows what dreams God had for each of
those children, now dead. Who will
remember them?
I
think we all want to do what’s best for our own children, even if sometimes
it’s hard to know what “best” looks like.
The challenge of the Gospel is to be as concerned for the children of
others as for our own, not by lessening in any way our concern for our own
children, but by stepping up our game for the children of others. Put another way, we are in an extremely
dangerous spiritual place when we believe that some people – and their children
– matter less than others, that the country would be so much better off if we
could just get rid of this group and that group. Those attitudes – that some people matter
less than others, that some people are expendable, that some people are a
burden dragging the rest of the country down – have us walking in the ways of
Herod, not Jesus. They are the first
steps that the followers of Hitler and Mussolini took in supporting their
murderous policies. Eighty years ago,
we entered and won a world war in opposition to such thinking. But now these politics are resurgent all
around the world, as authoritarian leaders are exalted and racial and religious
minorities are persecuted and marked for elimination. Such leaders are the Herods of our time. There
are supporters of this thinking in our country as well. In the name of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, we
must resist such thinking and such policies at every turn.
John’s
gospel begins with the words, “In the beginning was the Word,
and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in
the beginning with God. 3 All things came into being through
him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being 4 in
him was life, and the life was the light of all people. 5 The
light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” The darkness does try though, does try to
extinguish the light. Herod tried to
extinguish the light at Christ’s birth, and Pilate was pressured into trying to
extinguish it at the end of Christ’s earthly ministry. The modern-day Herods and Pilates in our
midst continue to try to overcome the light – but the darkness does not, and
will not, overcome it.
Remember
Jesus’ words that “Whatsoever you have done to the least of these my sisters
and brothers, you have done unto me.”
Despite what we tell ourselves, what we do or don’t do for children says
a lot about what we do or don’t do for Jesus.
Now, I know that some of us are
more kid-friendly than others – and as a non-parent, I firmly count myself in
the “not so kid friendly” club. I’m
about as cuddly-wuddly as a porcupine. But
all of us, whether we have children or not, whether we enjoy being around
children or not, can work to make our world safer for children, so that our
children, made in God’s image, can grow up to be the men and women God
intended. For example, I don’t ever want
to be in a school classroom in front of children – it’s just not my gift – but
I do want to be sure our schools are safe and equipped to provide a strong
education. And beyond it just being the right thing to
do, there’s an element of self-interest:
our lives are all connected, and well-educated children growing up into
well-educated adults will make my future better. Or at the very least, ignorant children
growing up into ignorant adults will make my future more difficult. And it goes without saying that Emanuel
Church needs to continue to be a safe and welcoming place for children, and to
work to be even more so in the future.
When
we see the level of need, we may feel helpless, overwhelmed. But the good news of the passage is that when
God wants to create change, God sends a baby.
God sent Jesus. And as
Christians, as members of the Body of Christ, Jesus sent us. I’m reminded of these words from the
African-American pastor and writer Howard Thurman – I read this on Christmas
Eve, but it’s worth another hearing:
When the song of the angels is stilled,
when the star in the sky is
gone,
when the kings and princes
are home,
when the shepherds are back
with their flocks,
the work of Christmas
begins:
to find the lost,
to heal the broken,
to feed the hungry,
to release the prisoner,
to rebuild the nations,
to bring peace among the
people,
to make music in the heart.
As
we prepare to begin a new year, may we at Emanuel Church be about the work of Christmas,
and may we bring the joy of Christmas to all whose lives touch ours. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment