Matthew 2:1-5a (The Message)
After Jesus was born in Bethlehem village, Judah territory—this was during Herod’s kingship—a band of scholars arrived in Jerusalem from the East. They asked around, “Where can we find and pay homage to the newborn King of the Jews? We observed a star in the eastern sky that signaled his birth. We’re on pilgrimage to worship him.”
When word of their inquiry got to Herod, he was terrified—and not Herod alone, but most of Jerusalem as well. Herod lost no time. He gathered all the high priests and religion scholars in the city together and asked, “Where is the Messiah supposed to be born?”
They told him, “Bethlehem, Judah territory.
Such men read the stars for revelations from the universe and found there the news of the birth of a new king to be born among the Jewish people – one who would bless the whole world with his birth. And so they set out and followed the stars across the desert lands to Bethlehem. Upon their arrival, they found, not a royal prince, but a child of the poor.
Along the way they encountered Herod, current king of the Jews, courtesy of his Roman masters, who was, understandably, greatly put off by the magi’s news of a new-born king. He tried to trick the magi into returning to tell him where he, too, could “honor” this child, but being wise men after all, they tricked him instead, and made their way home again, after seeing Jesus, by another route – by-passing Herod entirely.
Upon discovering he had been outwitted, Herod embarked on a search of his own, which was foiled by an angel sent to Joseph to tell him to flee the area with Mary and Jesus to escape Herod’s plan.
Herod, finding he had been tricked yet again, went on a murderous rampage and ordered all male children in the area who were under the age of two, to be slaughtered. This was unlikely to have been more than a handful of children, given how small Bethlehem was, but the death of even one child in such a manner is a horror.
With all this going on we still find no word that – beyond providing the first information about Bethlehem to Herod -- the Temple priests and scholars ever even bothered about any of this again. You would think they would have been interested in finding answers themselves, but I don’t think there is any word in scripture about them being involved in any follow through or showing any further interest in the birth of such a child.
Theologian/storyteller John Shea explains this puzzling behavior this way. He says,
- The story of the Magi, as told by Matthew, is built on a massive, many-layered irony. The Magi Gentiles, through their own calculations, knew about the birth of the king of the Jews. The Jewish leaders, who have the prophecy of the birth in their own scriptures, are ignorant of it.
There were two fairly brief posts on-line this week that caught my attention. Each alluded to, and each, I think, illuminated the Epiphany story. The first is from Nadia Bolz-Weber, Lutheran pastor/teacher:
- "Epiphany tells a story of two masculinities: Herod, who is a ruler on a throne of power, and Joseph who is a peasant in an unconventional marriage. One man is powerful and one man is not. And yet the text only describes one of these men as being afraid ... And it wasn’t the peasant."
Herod was a king with a king’s power but only through his Roman masters. He had a very tenuous claim to the throne of David through his lineage, but was never seen as a legitimate occupier of David’s throne by the people he ruled. He was a carpetbagger, at best, a puppet of the hated Romans – kept in power by the Romans just as long as he maintained peace in the country.
He was a man terrified of any rumor that might lead to rebellion –such as a rumor of the birth of a new, legitimate king of the Jews. He was terrified and willing to do anything to stop it – including slaughtering babies.
Joseph, on the other hand, having been assured by God’s own messenger angel that everything was as God wanted it, quietly packed up his family and moved to Egypt – away from Herod – away from the might of the Roman empire – secure in God’s protection and guidance.
Power backed by armies lends only one kind of strength, the kind associated with violence. Herod had that kind, but Joseph had the kind of strength that comes from knowing that one is in the right.
The second of the two postings I saw this week was posted by a man named Carlos A. Rodriguez who, according to his facebook page is a preacher, pastor, teacher, and activist. What he posted moved me.
- It’s an unwed woman who carries God. It’s the pagan astrologers from the East who recognize God. It’s the workers in the field who hear from God. It’s the marginalized neighborhood who welcomes God. It’s God who chooses the lowly and the broken to rise.
Bolz-Weber's posting has more to do with our understanding of the particular Epiphany story – offering us a different way to view just what happened there,
This posting leads us to consider that, perhaps, we have been considering the entire Christmas/Epiphany story from the wrong angle all along.
Nothing in the whole birth saga has to do with the powerful or the important people. With the exception of the three magi (who clearly had both status and connections to finance such a journey as they undertook, not to mention the calm courage to simply flout a king’s direct demands) – except for them the “important” people are almost entirely missing from this story. Herod is here briefly but he is made to look a fool. Not a good image for a tyrant.
Instead, we have an unwed mother plus her still likely somewhat confused-by-it-all husband/partner (were they even married yet?) – both from among the lower classes. We have three so-called priests who aren’t even Jewish for Pete’s sake (and how did they get into this story?).
We have shepherds who are among the lowest-of-the-low, class-wise. Shepherds were actually considered ritually “unclean” and shouldn’t have been allowed around “decent” people). And a baby born in a stable which was most likely just a lean-to thrown up against the side of the main building – the bare minimum definition of shelter.
And yet, these are the people who matter here -- the story makes that abundantly clear. The ones invited into this greatest of all stories. Maybe those of us today – any of us, anywhere – need to consider this cast of characters and question whether we would have been among those invited in or would we have been left on the outside with those of power and influence?
If this story is being enacted anywhere today, are we part of it or are we among the blissfully unaware, like the priests and the scribes? Are we too secure in our own positions to be part of a story like this one?
By grace, we are invited in – we’re all invited in. Who do we include in our versions of this story? Do we recognize the grace that invites us in and, in our turn, help to lift all those others that God loves so much?
Thank you, Jesus, for being here for us all – the expectant and the oblivious. Live and walk and act among and through, always.
Amen.