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“When Herod realized that he
had been outwitted by the Magi, he was furious, and he gave orders to kill
all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity who were two years old and
under” (Mt. 2:16).
The Bible is
about real people in real places.
You can check the historicity, the reliability of the biblical
record against secular resources, and when you do, you learn the biblical
record is very reliable. There’s
geography in the Bible. Many of the
world’s religions, such as Hinduism, do not have geography. The Book of Mormon mentions a lot of geographical
place names, but none of them have been found. In the Old Testament, 92% of the places
named have been identified. 98% of
the places in the New Testament have been identified. 100% of the locations in Luke have been
identified.
The field of archaeology is
also verifying the reliability of the biblical record. For a long time, scholars were claiming Pontius
Pilate, for example, was a mythical person, no more real than a unicorn or
Zeus. But then, Pilate’s name
started showing up, in the ancient records the Romans kept on their
governors and ancient Jewish records that they kept. His name was even carved into stone, a
building he commissioned.
Christians
often assume that all religious systems have a good degree of
reliability. That’s simply not true.
The events of the Bible happened in
real places in real time to real people; they didn’t happen inside the head
of Buddha or Joseph Smith.
All this, by way of
introduction, is to say we actually know quite a lot about this Herod in
our text, and much of it comes from secular historians. Herod was not a Jew. He represented the occupiers of the land,
the Romans. He was appointed King of
Judea by the Roman Senate. His service
began in 47 B.C. and ended shortly after the birth of Christ. He was known as Herod the Great, and in many
ways he earned the title. He was a
great builder. He constructed the
mammoth harbor in Caesarea. He constructed a number of huge
fortresses. He brought Roman
entertainment to Judea, building theaters,
amphitheaters. He could even be
generous, dramatically cutting taxes to make things easier for the people
during the famine of 25 B.C.
But historians say Herod had a terrible flaw to
his character: he was suspicious, paranoid,
and in his latter years, this paranoia ran the show. He was utterly convinced that others were
after his throne. And he had reason
to think this. Dr. Paul Maier,
professor of ancient history at Western Michigan University, wrote,
“Herod’s 10 wives had borne a wriggling, ambitious brood of sons, who
turned the Jerusalem palace into a human can of worms in their scheming to
succeed him” (Luth. Wit. Jan, ’94).
Herod’s paranoia got the better of him. He suspected family members of treason and
promptly eliminated them, including one of his wives and her mother; his
uncle and three of his sons; Antipater, Alexander and Aristobulus.
The Roman Emperor at the time, Caesar
Augustus, said “it is safer to be Herod’s pig than Herod’s son.”
From his deathbed, Herod ordered the most
distinguished citizens of the country be arrested on trumped up charges and
imprisoned in the great hippodrome of Jericho,
an oval shaped stadium used for horse and chariot races. The moment he died, archers were to
massacre these hundreds. The reason? Herod knew that when he died few would
grieve and many would celebrate. He
would give the country something to cry about.
Historians know Herod as a sick, scheming,
paranoid murderous old man. This is
the man whose life intersects with that of God’s Son, Jesus. We know there’s trouble ahead, when the
magi, the wise men, come in search of Jesus. In Jerusalem,
they start asking around, “Where is the one who has been born king of the
Jews.” Herod hears word of this and
thinks, “I’m the king around here.”
To him, their question sounds like, “Where’s the new born king, you
has been?” or
“Where’s the real king, you fraud?” Matthew
writes, “When King Herod heard this he was disturbed, and all Jerusalem with
him.” They were distressed because
they knew what Herod was capable of.
Herod summons the religious
elite of Jerusalem. That is, he calls for a meeting of the
Sanhedrin. He asks them “where is the
Christ supposed to be born?” They answer,
“In Bethlehem of Judea” showing him chapter and verse from the prophet
Micah. And so Herod hatches a plan
to have the Magi locate the baby for him, so that, quote, “I too may go and
worship him.” Herod sounds so
sincere, doesn’t he, so spiritual, so religious! All he wants to do is bow down and
worship Jesus too. But we know what
the Magi don’t. Herod has no
intentions to worship anyone.
Herod’s paranoia is calling the shots again; he’s stirring up a plan
to destroy Jesus.
The magi start for Bethlehem, the star
leading the way. Eventually, they find Jesus; he’s in a house now, no
longer in the manger. Apparently Joseph
found better accommodations for his family. They worship Jesus. Then they present their gifts of gold,
frankincense, and myrrh, the kind of gifts one gives to kings, the kind of
gifts that were most valuable, transportable and marketable in that day,
ideal for sustaining Mary and Joseph in another country. Later, the magi are warned in a dream not
to return to Herod. Joseph is also
warned in a dream, “Get up now and escape to Egypt.”
Herod eventually figures out
he’s been duped and he is furious. When
ever Herod gets mad, people die.
Herod orders that all males, two years old and younger in Bethlehem be
slaughtered, assuming Jesus will be among them. Based on the evidence, it
is believed there could hardly have been more than a thousand inhabitants
in Bethlehem at the time, which means about
20-25 children of that age in Bethlehem,
half of which are the wrong sex. So
about twelve little boys are murdered that day by Roman soldiers. We must not exaggerate the number, as has
been done in the past, but a smaller number makes the act no less wicked.
They are the first to be killed because of Jesus, the first of many martyrs. We don’t even know their names.
This is the world into which
Jesus is born, and Matthew will not allow us to forget it or ignore it. There is evil in this world. Not just people who do evil things; not
just soldiers who follow orders. There
is raw evil in the world, and a prince of evil who inspires wicked acts
great and small within each of us.
And there is good in the world, not just people who do good things,
but a God who is good. And the two
are at war.
This is the world into which Jesus was born. It’s a world where there is senseless
death, a world where innocent children lose their lives because even
well-dressed, polished and respectable people are capable of wicked acts. It’s a world where civilians, including
women and children, are considered “soft targets,” a world where any idiot
who manages to detonate a bomb is given the title of “mastermind” in our
newspapers. It’s a world where the
tongue is capable of praise one minute and of malicious slander the
next. We would prefer to hide this
behind the soft candlelight glow of Christmas Eve, yet Matthew insists we
remember the man capable of good, but also great evil, and the little
children he murdered.
There’s really only one more thing I want to say
of Herod. He’s still on the loose. The
world still thinks of Jesus as a threat. Even we, who so recently
celebrated the birth of Jesus, even we have a
little Herod within our hearts. We usually call it the old Adam, but today
it may help to think of him as Herod.
The Herod who sits on the throne of our hearts
sees in Jesus one who would interfere with our lives, our choices, our
ambitions. We don’t want to
recognize another king in our own little kingdom. We don’t want to have answer to him. We don’t want to have to follow this
Jesus. By nature, we don’t even want
him to get too close. He might turn our
priorities upside down. He might find
there are better things we can do with our time, our money, our skills. He
might find some of our behaviors unacceptable. He might tell us to change some things
about us, things we don’t want to change.
I had a professor who said once, “Let the camel’s nose in the tent,
and pretty soon the whole beast will be forcing his way in.” So it is with Jesus. Best keep him outside.
Herod was hostile toward
God, but so is the sinful mind. That
is to say, there is still lurking within us a sinister Old Man who has the urge
to banish God from our hearts, the malicious desire to send God off into
exile again, all the way to Egypt
if necessary.
We would prefer not to
remember this part of the Christmas story, at least not so close to
Christmas, but Matthew believes it’s important that we do, because Jesus
was born into a real Bethlehem,
an inhospitable and dangerous place.
The Scriptures teach that our hearts are just as inhospitable and
dangerous to Jesus as was old Bethlehem. We should be giving him the finest room
in the house, together with the first fruits of our offerings. As it is, he’ll have to make do with the shed
out back, and perhaps some scraps from our table. (Too often we treat the Lord God Almighty
as if he were a common barn cat!)
The Good News is Jesus will
take what he can get. He’s not picky
in that way.
He
was born in and for the real world and real people. Jesus was born into
this world not in spite of the Herods and their
wickedness, but precisely because of them.
And he doesn’t have in mind to take over the kingdoms of this
world. He has in mind the salvation
of this world. This one bound so
tightly by swaddling cloths will loosen the grip of sin and death on us,
and in turn, bind the strong man. So
the old Christmas carol says,
“This
little Babe so few days old,
Is
come to rifle Satan’s fold;
All
hell doth at His presence quake,
Though
He Himself for cold do shake.”
“Herod, why this senseless
fear?” another hymn asks. He’s not
after your throne; he’s after, your heart. And though Jesus will be spared the Roman
sword in Bethlehem, he will not be spared
the Roman cross outside Jerusalem. We praise God for that. That’s why he was born. That’s love in a real world. Amen.
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