Sermon: "Frightened," Epiphany Sunday, January 5, 2025
TBD
Scripture: Isaiah 60:1-6, Matthew 2:1-12
Preacher: Rev. Ryan Slifka
“When King Herod heard this. When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him.”
My guess is that most of us know something about the wisemen, the magi. Thanks to countless nativity scenes, we know all about these exotic eastern astrologers. The ones who spot a special star in the sky, following it all the way to Bethlehem. And the infant Jesus.
My guess is that fewer of us know about the equally important character I just mentioned. King Herod.
The last word we’d probably use for the wise men is “frightened” about Jesus. After all they travel more than a thousand miles to see him, they’re filled with joy when they do. Then they open their treasure chests, gifting gold, frankincense and myrrh. But that’s the word the scripture uses to describe Herod, when the magi arrive in Jerusalem looking for this newborn king. It says the “whole of Jerusalem,” feels that way, in fact. “Frightened.” At the prospect of this newborn king.
Why “frightened”? I mean, he’s just a baby. Well, the thing is that Herod is the King of the Jews. He’s a puppet king, installed by the occupying Romans to crack down on the locals and keep order. But a king nonetheless. So when him and his fellow elites hear not only that another king’s been born, but that there are signs like a giant star giving this king divine sanction, he realizes it’s a significant threat. One that needs to be eradicated.
And Herod tries.
First, after consulting his scholars as to where the Messiah’s going to be born, he sends the wise men and says “tell me when you find him so I can pay homage.” When in reality he just wants to know where Jesus is to kill him. This plan is foiled, of course, when the wise men are warned in a dream not to return with the coordinates and they head home. So then he orders the murder of every child in Bethlehem, two years old or younger. Just like the Egyptian Pharaoh did to the Hebrew slaves. And thanks to their own dream warning, Joseph and Mary and Jesus escape to Egypt just in time.
Herod is frightened at the birth of Jesus. So terrified, he’ll stop at nothing. Because if Jesus is king, then it means Herod isn’t the king. At least not for long. What frightens Herod is that if Jesus is king, it means Herod will lose everything.
Herod stands to lose everything if Jesus is King. That’s why he’s so frightened.
And if we’re honest with ourselves, that’s what frightens us about Jesus, too.
Of course, I don’t mean that we’re afraid of a newborn baby. Or Palestinian puppet rulers on the verge of losing our kingdoms. But something that scares modern people the most, is the idea of an authority—any authority—outside ourselves. It’s a reason a lot of us give for being skeptical about religion. It means having someone or something else define what we should or should not do. Someone or something else define what the good life is, and whether we’re living up to it.
We put a lot of weight on the importance of me—the individual—to decide what’s right or wrong, true or untrue. Life is about self-discovery. It’s about following our bliss, or our passions. Deciding who is right for me, and what is right for me. We might even like the idea of a God who created us, a God who loves us. But the idea that there’s someone or something out there placing demands on us? Especially difficult demands on us? Take up your cross and follow me. Give your possessions to the poor. Love your neighbour as yourself, love your enemy. Maybe only sleep with one person you’re deeply committed to. No thanks. I mean, this can be a total non-starter for a lot of us modern people.
One scholar, Frederick Bruner puts it like this: “If Jesus is Lord, then we are not… Herod, though an extreme case, is not an isolated one. Herod is what I am deep down inside.”[i] We’re like Herod in the sense that bristle at the idea that someone else is in charge of our lives. The idea someone other than us decides what is right or wrong frightens us. It might not elicit in us murderous rage like Herod, but at the least it provokes within us deep resistance. If Jesus is Lord, then it means that I am not the Lord of my life. Or anyone else’s.
Now, at this point you might be thinking this to yourself this: GOOD! Good! After all, religion in general, Christianity in particular, can truly be oppressive. The last thing we want is to live in the shadow of crippling shame, or under the crushing weight of unrealistic expectations. It’s like bowing down to Herod. The last place we wanna be is a community or a society where hypocrisy and judgmentalism lurk around every corner, just waiting to for us to slip up. It’s true. For a lot of us life as it is where we define and decide sure is a lot more pleasant than some of the faith communities we’ve been a part of. Modernity with its emphasis on me and what I want has some real upsides compared to some of the alternatives. To pretend otherwise is simply another version of idolatry. Worshipping the past.
And yet, to pretend that it’s all joy and happiness now would also be untrue. Wouldn’t it?
I mean, on the extreme end, if I am king, and each of us decides what is right and wrong, what do we say in the face of true transgression? Like, how do we say racism is wrong, or homophobia is wrong, if it’s just wrong for me? The great Russian writer Dostoevsky once wrote that “"But what will become of men then? ... without God and immortal life? All things are permitted then, they can do what they like."[ii] He didn’t mean that if there is no God we would suddenly descend into chaos because all atheists are monsters. But he meant that if there is no God, how do we know Herod’s a tyrant? How do we even know that his massacre of innocent people is wrong, unless there is a standard—like God—that says there is? If I am king and you are king, then one of us is going to step on each other’s toes. Other than the one with the best lawyers, the most money, majority of votes. Or the biggest guns? Who’s going to decide who’s right?
There is a more practical, personal issue at play, too. Being the king of our own lives can actually be pretty exhausting. We have this incredible freedom to decide for ourselves what we should do with our lives. How do we know what the good life is? How do we know what we want is good? How do we know it will satisfy us? Even if we can decide what the good life is, who’s to say we’ll actually get it? Or can get it? I mean, if you’re a king like Herod, and wealth and power are yours, maybe. But most of us don’t. And more often than not when we do get it, we find we aren’t as happy as we thought we’d be. And almost kill ourselves trying to keep it.
I mean, Herod’s base level of fear is a pretty accurate analogy to all our worries and our anxieties as modern people. We’ve got this freedom, we prize this freedom. Nobody external telling us what to do. And yet, the freedom we’ve got is a two-edged sword. In many ways we feel like the devil in John Milton’s classic poem Paradise Lost, who declares that it is “better to reign in hell, than to serve in heaven.”[iii] Like Herod, we want to be king, will even stop at nothing to be king. But in the end, being king is killing us.
We’re caught between a rock and a hard place. Two unfortunate options with their own significant downsides. So what are we supposed to do?
One thing I’ve discovered in my own journey with the scriptures is that when we’re presented with two bad alternatives, the gospel offers us a third option.
And in this case, the option comes in the form of the Magi. The wise men.
Really, the wise men in this passage are the counter-point to Herod. Whereas Herod is threatened by this new king, is consumed by fear and murderous rage, and resists with every fiber of his being. The Magi are drawn by the beauty of the star to Jesus. When they arrive in Bethlehem they’re “overwhelmed with joy.” Rather than drawing their knives, they kneel and give up their lives. Not only do they open their treasure chests and pour all their wealth out for him, they pour out their hearts for him, too. They do what Herod ought to have done in the first place. They put aside their old kings and their own gods—remember they are probably from Persia—and in their place worship Jesus, the true king. And in doing so they put aside their own selves. Giving everything they have and all they are to Jesus instead. Then there’s that last line, “they left for their own country by a different road.” Or in the old King James Version “they left a different way.” Rather than heading back to Herod and his way, they head home. They’ve converted to the gospel. No baptism yet. But they’re reborn. As new and different people.
Now, clearly, the wise men are doing exactly what we modern people are so skeptical of doing. Kneeling, worshipping. Putting their lives under the judgment and scrutiny of someone else. Giving their whole lives over something outside themselves—the God we meet in Jesus Christ. But notice this:
Somehow it’s not oppressive at all! It’s the opposite! There’s a lure in them. They’re not forced into worship, but drawn like a magnet. And when they get there, there’s joy, rather than fear. They give up their treasures, yes, but gladly as a free gift. And undoubtedly their lives were a bit bumpy when they got back to Persia, land of the old gods. We don’t actually know, though the great poet T.S. Eliot has a great poem The Journey of the Magi that actually imagines that story.[iv] But we do know that they worship Jesus not because they have to. But because they want to. Because they know that before they even headed home, they’d somehow already come home. In the presence of this radiant child.
The wise men present our alternative between self-crushing oppressive religion, and fear-filled Herod-like self-centred freedom and meaninglessness, in that they are drawn by the love and beauty of God. And it’s love and beauty of God that brings them such deep joy, that their only response is to give up their most precious treasures, and their deepest selves to his service. And they find their truest selves in his service.
And this, dear friends, is the first and best argument for faith that we have… that I have for any of you. And that argument is beauty. This God is beautiful. This God is pure love. In the same way the wise men emptied their treasures for him, he emptied himself of all divine glory for us on a cross so we could inherit the greatest treasure of all: his presence now, and into eternity. It’s the kind of love that makes us want to love back. That makes us want to kneel, and give our lives over. Trusting that true life, that JOY is found not in being like Herod, protecting ourselves at any cost. But being like the wise men, and giving ourselves up, over to eachother. Loving God, serving our neighbours. Emptying our deepest treasures for his sake. In spite of the cost.
Bad news is that you and I are not the king of our lives. There is a true king. Not just of me or you or any nation of king of the cosmos. But there is indeed a god, one who determines good and evil. One who judges right and wrong, the quality of our lives. But the good news is the King, the judge, the lawgiver, the power above all powers, has been manifest once and for all is Jesus Christ. This is not a god we must resist or live in fear of. But one who gives himself for us, and for whom we can give over our lives. Kneeling in awe of his beauty. And the wonders of his love. Trusting that the life we’ve always wanted, and longed for, will be found in his service.
Arise, shine; for your light has come! Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good works, and give glory to your Father in heaven.[v]
In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
[i] Frederick Dale Bruner, The Christbook: A Commentary on Matthew 1-12, rev. ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2004), 65-66.
[ii] Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov, Book XI, Chapter 4.
[iii] John Milton, Paradise Lost, Book I, line 263 https://poets.org/poem/paradise-lost-book-i-lines-221-270
[iv] T.S. Eliot, “Journey of the Magi,” https://poetryarchive.org/poem/journey-magi/
[v] Matthew 5:16