The Babies of Bethlehem

Matthew 2:13-23

December 30, 2007

Rochelle A. Stackhouse

For us this story of Herod and the slaughter of the children of Bethlehem (experts guess it may have been up to 20 children given the population of Bethlehem in those days), is a horrible story, like the story of Pharaoh slaughtering the Hebrew children in Egypt in the days of Moses. We look at the infants and toddlers among us and we can’t imagine it, we think only a monster could do this.

For many people in other parts of the world, however, this sort of thing becomes, sadly, business as usual. Talk to the mothers and fathers of the small villages of Darfur. Remember the stories in Rwanda of the civil war between Hutus and Tutsis. Read the accounts of the Killing Fields in Cambodia in the 70’s, when the Khmer Rouge killed or enslaved hundreds of children. Remember the concentration camps in Germany, Austria and Poland in the 30’s and 40’s when the Nazis gassed thousands of children and burned their bodies.

Or consider other ways children are killed every day. Children die of hunger in the slums of Rio de Janeiro; children die of AIDS they got from their mothers in southern Africa; children die from abuse at the hands of parents or other relatives or as intended or unintended victims of drug and gun violence in the cities, towns and rural areas of the United States every day, including a 15 year old shot in New Haven on Christmas Eve.

In too many places, wailing and loud lamentation are heard; Rachels and Josephs weeping for their children, refusing to be consoled because they are no more.

This is such a hard story to hear right after Christmas, an amazingly child-centered holiday in North America. We saw our children and grandchildren, nieces and nephews, neighbors and friends open their gifts on Christmas, and we contributed gifts here at Redeemer or through Toys for Tots or other organizations so that even the poorest child could open a present. And we want to believe, even if just for a few days, that our children can remain innocent of the kind of pain Herod inflicted on Bethlehem in a desperate attempt to defeat God, innocent of the kind of pain that lingers often all too close to us even here in East Rock, let alone in far flung corners of the world. I think we all want to think that for Christmas, death and bad news might take a holiday.

They do not. Many of us in the clergy business shy away from even reading this text on the Sunday after Christmas, let alone preaching on it. I have done so in the past. But I am glad it is here. There are some in this congregation for whom Christmas was painful this year because of death or difficulty in their lives. There are many more in the world for whom that is the case. If the Christmas story stopped with the words, “And they all lived happily ever after,” then it would have no more significance to us than a Disney-fied fairy tale.

But it doesn’t say that anywhere in Matthew or Luke’s versions of these events. In fact, of course, we know what happened to Jesus after he grew up, and there is no happily ever after there, either.

There is, however, also not an ending either here in the birth narratives or the later stories of Jesus which would indicate that death and evil are the last word. Yes, Herod wreaked havoc on the lives of many in the little town of Bethlehem. But then, we are told, Herod died. This king who was so worried about his throne that he killed to keep it, was, after all, human, not divine. He died. The power of evil is, really, limited. Tragedy is temporal, not eternal, even the worst of tragedies.

This time of year, I often turn in prayer and thought to Jerusalem and Bethlehem, to Israel, the West Bank and Gaza. If there was ever a tragedy that seemed endless, it is the endless fighting, for thousands of years, over this small strip of land that seems to have nothing people would want to fight over; no oil, not much water, no mineral resources, not even a really strategic geographical position. As we remember Herod in Bethlehem today, I want to bring to you part of a message that was sent out by the Lutheran Bishop of Jerusalem, The Rev. Munib Younan. If someone living in the midst of the continuing tragedy of the Holy Land can find hope in the midst of terror, then all of us can.

“Today is no different than the world into which Jesus was born. Many leaders of that day followed voices and values that made the blessings of life only for the wealthy and the powerful.

Then, like now, there are the Herods, whose voices of power, might and the sword leave innocent children dead and cities devastated.

Then, like now, there are the Caesars, whose voices will command anything to keep their empire in place and on top.

They, like many leaders today, would create a "peace" by the sword, built on submission to power, military might, exclusion and injustice.

This season we remember that we follow a different voice. It is the voice of one crying in the wilderness, the voice of the Babe in a manger testifying to the way, the truth and the life.

This voice creates a peace that passes all understanding based on inviting all to share in the warm glow of the manger and God's blessings of life abundant. Here there are no swords, but a young woman who bears eternal Light into a dark, Bethlehem night. Only poor shepherds who were once afraid and are now at peace. Only wise men who journeyed long to kneel at the feet of a child.

Do you hear what I hear?

The voice of life and love that calls us to kneel to a child, to prepare the way for a better future for all of our children, for salvation, peace, justice and hope. The voice of the ones who don't have a place at the inn. The voice that today calls Palestinians, Israelis and our whole world toward justice and non-violence and away from war and extremism. The voice that calls our leaders to take up their power and lead in a different direction: Preparing the way of justice, for justice is the only way that will lead to a comprehensive peace, security and freedom for all.

Muslim, Christian and Jewish faith leaders in Jerusalem have [come together] to make religion part of the solution and not part of the problem, to break down the barriers that stand in the way of justice and peace by seeing God in the other and accepting the right of the existence of the other. We are committed to education for our children that teaches tolerance and mutual respect, preparing fertile ground for the healing and future of our children. We are committed together to liberate ourselves from fear and conflict to live in freedom, security and justice. Please pray for us.

Do you hear what I hear? The Word has become flesh and lived among us, and it is possible that justice and forgiveness can become flesh among Palestinians and Israelis. This voice calls us to join the symphony of peace and justice which cries out with the angels:

"Glory to God in the highest heaven,

and peace among all human beings."

Jesus fled to Egypt, but he came back to Nazareth. Let us hope that in Nazareth and New Haven we, too, can still hear his voice. Amen.