Sermon for First Sunday of Christmas – Matthew 2:13-23

Merry Christmas! You know, a lot of folks are surprised to find out that Christmas isn’t just a one day thing. Then again, Christmas is full of surprises. We surprise each other with gifts. We like being surprised by them, unless it’s another ugly sweater. Kids love to open a Nintendo box filled with socks and underwear. Distant friends sometimes drop in for a surprise visit. We get a surprise card from someone we haven’t heard from in years. Surprises can bring a lot of joy. But, the pendulum swings both ways. Surprises can disappoint us or even be very tragic.

Well, how surprising is our gospel for today? I mean, we just celebrated Christmas Eve. Our sanctuary was packed. We listened to Luke’s nativity story in the manger. We gave thanks for the birth of the holy child. We sang Silent Night by candlelight. It was glorious. Sure, the reality wasn’t so glorious. A dirty, smelly manger, noisy animals, childbirth. Mary and Joseph wondering what folks were going to ask when they went back home with a baby. It’s complicated. But it’s still a story that gives us peace, and you’d think that should be enough.

Luke thinks so. He moves on to Joseph and Mary presenting Jesus in the temple. But Matthew doesn’t do that. He barely says anything about the birth, and then escalates into high drama. Men from the east all of a sudden show up in Jerusalem and start asking, “where is this child born king of the Jews?” Word spreads, King Herod hears about it, and freaks out. Now, we know a few things about Herod. He’s power-hungry, he’s vain, he’s a murderer just like the rest of his family. He’s every bit a villain and Roman history confirms it. Now, his actual Roman title is King of Judea, so do you think he’s surprised to hear that the “king of the Jews” has been born? That’s a threat. So he sends the men to Bethlehem, but tells them, “oh, when you find the child, bring me word so I can pay homage.” Surprising that he sends strangers instead of folks he trusts, but we’re not evil despots, so what do we know? Anyway, the men go and find Mary and the baby, they kneel and pay homage, then they leave. But being warned in a dream about Herod, they sneak away. This is the same moment when the Lord surprises Joseph in a dream and tells him to flee to Egypt with Mary and the baby Jesus, “for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him.” So they flee for their lives.

Now, how long do you think it took for Herod to realize he’s been tricked? Enter this story of the Holy Innocents, Herod’s bloody massacre in retaliation. As Jeremiah prophesied, “wailing and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children. She refused to be consoled, because they are no more.” Well, eventually Herod dies, and by an excruciating disease by the way, so now Joseph still in Egypt has another dream. Return with Mary and the child, “for those who were seeking the child’s life are dead.” So they return, but they don’t just go home, because Herod’s son Archilaus is king and you know he’s compensating for dad’s weaknesses. Joseph heeds yet another dream, and they end up in this nowhere little village called Nazareth. But can anything good ever come from Nazareth? End scene.

So, we rejoice that God protects the holy family, but how do we reconcile this mass tragedy? Well, you might be surprised that for all we know about Herod, we don’t have any records of this. But we do know that he killed his wife and 2 of his sons, and we think he actually died just before Jesus was born. Did Joseph really have such dreams? Maybe. Matthew says this is to “fulfill what was spoken by the Lord through the prophet,” Hosea in this case. But you don’t need these murders to show prophecy fulfilled. So why would Matthew turn exceeding joy into surprising tragedy? Just to tie up loose ends?

Maybe because it’s not such a surprise. It’s believable. Because that’s exactly the kind of guy Herod was. When everyone’s an enemy, people become disposable, and that’s how you get genocide. We’ve seen it. How many other world leaders does this remind us of right now? Maybe this is what Matthew desperately wants us to remember – that Jesus isn’t born in peace, but in brokenness. Except, it’s not just genocide. It’s wars and school shootings. It’s the surprise of daily violence and tragedy. We pray these might be left in the past, yet ghosts haunt us and the threat of another tragedy always lies on the horizon. Where is God when we shake our fists and cry out with Rachel in wailing and loud lamentation?

But we can’t afford to wait for an answer, even from God – we have to act now. No more surprises. We’ll put police in our schools, metal detectors and cameras everywhere. The deadline for Real IDs approaches. An entire security industry exists and profits from our very fears. Of course, we’ll pass more laws because it’s easy to think this will stop history from repeating. But will it? Here’s the thing, there’s a nagging truth that gnaws at the back of our minds, and we always come face to face with it in the end. For all our toil to make the world safer, we still fail to protect those who are vulnerable and who need us the most. So maybe we turn to God, but how can we trust a God who doesn’t seem to show up? Where was God when Jesus hung from the cross, crying out “My God, why have you forsaken me?” In the end, didn’t Herod really get his wish?

But, friends, none of this is the last word, because this really is the God of surprises. This God has always done what what we least expect. God comes to us in this forsaken wilderness, in Jesus Christ, born a helpless baby in a manger. Defying Herod’s fury and anger, in the midst of death and terror, God leads the holy family to Egypt for safety. We remember Egypt and another Joseph, Jacob’s son, betrayed and sold into slavery by his brothers. Yet God abided with him and delivered him to rescue his betrayers from famine and death. Egypt, where the Israelites were tormented by Pharoah until God parted the sea and delivered them to freedom. And yet we go back to Egypt again with the holy family for sanctuary. Of course Jesus will still go to the cross to die. But even from the cross, He asks his Father to “forgive them, for they know not what they do”. The same word Jesus gives to you and to me, forgiving us all our sins. But then the greatest surprise of all, his resurrection when the stone is rolled away. Over and over this God surprises us with what we least expect.

So why should we be surprised that in the afterglow of the nativity we would come face to face with this story of Herod’s reign of terror? Because it’s real. And because this is where we most desperately need God to show up. Jesus born as an infant, not to the rich or privileged, but to an unmarried couple threatened by every worst suspicion, risking rejection, and sitting beneath the feet of power. Jesus born not in times of peace or prosperity but in the danger and uncertainty we face. And in the height of our own disbelief and fear, we will hear the Lord promise us again – resurrection, for you and for me. This is what we need to keep hearing, because it’s the only thing that finally breaks the grip of tragedy and even death.

This is the surprise of faith, to see tragedy and death defeated. Defeated when we see brothers and sisters in Christ pouring care and compassion upon those who grieve or suffer. Defeated when we see strangers traveling to bear up those struck by unexpected tragedy. Defeated when we grieve with folks we may never meet. Defeated because no one is ever alone in their affliction. All because we dare to trust this God who meets us in the wilderness and surprises us with a banquet table. A life-giving meal of bread and wine, body broken and blood poured out, for forgiveness, for resurrection, for a new story at the beginning of a new year. This is the surprising feast of victory for our God, given for you and for me. So, let us gather at the table. Amen.