I got the idea for this sermon from something I read called “Keeping Herod in Christmas,” (in McLaren, We Make the Road by Walking) which is a catchy title because it begs the question, “who would want to do that?” Who would want to keep Herod in Christmas? Herod is the bad guy in the story. Upon meeting him one time, the wise men are quickly convinced that they want nothing to do with him; they return to their homes by another road in order to avoid him; by the end of this morning’s reading, he has ordered the slaughter of innocent children in order to find and destroy the Christ Child. There is no exaggeration in saying that Herod’s presence in the Bible’s Christmas story is as-if all of your holiday celebrations were suddenly upset by a natural disaster or a mass shooting or the church being burned to the ground. Why would anyone want to keep Herod in Christmas?
In order to understand, we need to spend some time paying attention to who Herod was, and what purpose he serves in the story that is being told. King Herod, or Herod the Great, ruled over Jerusalem in the years surrounding the birth of Jesus. If you’re wondering why anyone would call him great, it is because there is some ambiguity in evaluating his leadership. He is “great” insofar as he is associated with the rebuilding of the Temple in Jerusalem—a sign of his Jewish identity and a big deal for his people. The same was true of several other major building projects for which he is remembered. However, Herod often used ruthless means to accomplish his ends. The Temple, and his other building projects, were accomplished by slave labor. He was a tyrant who held onto power by putting to death anyone who he thought threatened his power, including his wife and two of his sons. It also helps, as context, to know that while Herod was king in Jerusalem, he was actually a puppet of the Roman Empire; Herod held onto his own power only by appeasing the Romans. So here we have a tyrannical and deeply insecure leader who will do anything to stay in power. You can probably think of modern equivalents.
Stepping back to the Christmas story most of you know better: the wise men (or magi, or kings, according to your tradition), have been watching the heavens for a sign of a Messiah, and have followed a star to Jerusalem, asking around to find out if anyone knows where the child is to be born. News of these foreign visitors reaches Herod, the local king, who calls together his advisors, and they decide together that the wise men should be sent to Bethlehem in search for the child. Herod instructs them to report back. The wise men proceed to follow the star and find the child—you know that story. And as the story goes, having been warned in a dream (and probably having learned a thing or two about Herod’s ways), the wise men return to their home by another road. When Herod discovers that he has been tricked, he needs a “plan b” to find and destroy this new rival king, so he sends out his henchmen to kill all children under the age of two, and because Joseph is warned in yet another dream, he, with Mary and the child, escape death by fleeing to Egypt.
It’s hard to tell if this massacre ever really took place—in a town the size of Bethlehem, it might have only effected 20-30 families (not that that’s any less tragic); or the massacre might have been craftily covered up by Herod; but in any case, it’s never mentioned in any historical source outside of this Bible story. However, the story does serve an obvious biblical and theological purpose: It is almost exactly the same story as another story from the Book of Exodus. In that story, Pharaoh kills innocent children in order to prevent the enslaved Hebrews from becoming too numerous and rising up against him—and one child, Moses, escapes. The Gospel of Matthew is telling us: Jesus is the new Moses. Pay attention. Follow him. He will be your deliverer. And Herod—Herod is the new Pharaoh.
Pharaoh, like Herod, was a tyrant, and his tyranny was driven by the fact that he was insecure. Go back and read the Books of Genesis and Exodus. These are not just cute stories about burning bushes and parting waters, they are stories about what happens when a king leads out of a place of insecurity and anxiety. Pharaoh is a rich king who can never amass enough wealth to feel safe and secure. He dreams at night of corn that doesn’t grow as high as someone else’s and cattle that are thinner than the next guy’s; he stores up grain in barns for seven years, and when a famine comes, he trades that grain to starving people in exchange for their freedom; and yes, when the slaves become too numerous, he fears revolt and kills their children. It is a story of insecurity and anxiety that leads to tyranny. And again, you can imagine the modern day equivalents.
So, back to Herod, and the original question: why keep Herod in Christmas? Herod symbolizes all of the worst impulses in human leadership. He is entirely self-interested and obsessed with his own power; he is abusive and violent, even toward those who are closest to him; and even though he is profoundly rich and powerful, he can only see what he does not have, and so is consumed by the anxiety that there will never be enough.
In these things, Herod is the perfect foil, the perfect dramatic contrast, to Jesus, the true king: the whole purpose of Jesus’ coming into the world is to be for others, for the healing, teaching, and upbuilding not of himself, but of everyone else; he demonstrates this quality in the leadership that everyone sees, those who come to meet him from a great distance, like the wise men, and those like his disciples who will experience his grace and love most closely. And he is so secure and at peace in his leadership that, even when it means losing his life, he gives himself away.
Herod, as we have said, is a puppet king, subject to the oppression of the Romans. So when the news comes that the Messiah, the liberator of the people, the new Moses who will once again lead them to freedom; when news comes that he has been born in Bethlehem, well, “a pious man would have greeted this news with hope and joy,” (McLaren, ibid) but Herod only sees it as a threat, and he responds with violence. But when the wise men follow the star and reach the manger, they find the opposite of violence; they find a harmless, vulnerable child, whose embrace of a different way of living, free from any anxiety or insecurity, will change history.
Besides those broad strokes, there are more specific things to notice about this story, things that make it powerful in our own time. In this story, we learn that from the moment of his birth, Jesus was a refugee. Our own world is full of refugees, this has always been true and certainly is today. The Herods of the world have always committed the violence that leads people to flee from their homes and become strangers in a strange land, longing for peace and freedom. The modern evidence is there every time we turn on the tv or read the newsfeed or hear a report from our church’s mission committee. At Christmastime, we must not miss the theological connection, stated so plainly in Matthew 25 where Jesus says “I was a stranger and you welcomed me…” From the time of his birth, Jesus was a refugee; and we worship him by offering kindness and relief to the refugees of the world.
Another thing this story tells us is a bit more personally challenging. As much as we hope to compare ourselves to the innocent, vulnerable love of the Christ Child, the fact is that there is a little Herod in all of us. Of course, we’re not sending out edicts to slaughter innocent children—but just about all of us have been guilty of worrying that there we don’t have enough, or feeling threatened by the power of someone else, or trying to control things that are really God’s business. We are selfish at the expense of those who suffer, we commit small acts of violence to insulate ourselves from harm, we feed our anxieties with addictions that help us temporarily feel in control. The stories of Pharaoh and Herod are meant to show us that these qualities that reside in all of us, and they are why we need a Savior. So the Christmas story gives us a wake up call: If Pharaohs and Kings—who have more power than anyone—if they worry about such things, how much more susceptible might be regular folks like you and me?
But the story we read this morning also has a hopeful ending. For as pervasive as the violence and anxiety of the world may be, there is also a thread of wisdom that is woven through this morning’s story, wisdom that offers us a way out. The other kings in this story—the magi or “Wise men” if you will: they are asked to join in Herod’s life of selfishness and anxiety; but once they have met the Christ Child, they choose not to listen to Herod, but to go home by another road. There is no evidence that the wise men were any more holy, divine, or flawless than any other human being; but in this story, at least on that day, they had an experience of meeting Jesus, and it was powerful enough to shape their lives. They turned away from the anxiety and violence that are so damaging to human souls. They go home by another road, and because they are not Jesus, but merely have known him, they keep inviting us to go home by another road too.
We keep Herod in Christmas because he shows us that God understands the ways of this world and sends a Savior who can help us. Our Savior shows us solidarity with refugees and others who suffer; our Savior helps us look in a mirror at our own fears and anxieties; our Savior helps us to take another road that leads to a richer life. This is the one we must follow the star to find. The Wonderful Counselor; the Prince of Peace; the God of love, come down from heaven. Amen.