Thursday, 27 February Seeking the Messiah. Matthew 2:1–23
This is a very dispiriting chapter to read! How do you feel after reading it? Everyone except the religious leaders of the people were actively seeking, but they were asleep at the wheel – and totally careless about it.
The Magi (wise men) from the east came to Jerusalem asking where the Messiah, the king of the Jews was to be born. Their enquiries came to the attention of Herod, and were known by all Jerusalem with him! Everyone seemed to be aware of, and interested in the quest of these strange visitors – except the religious leaders.
When King Herod demanded to know the answers, he called in the religious leaders, the chief priests and teachers of the law, and asked them. They didn’t say: ‘Oh, that’s a good question! We’ve never thought about it.’ They knew the answer off by heart! All the scholars agree that there was a general expectation that this was the Messiah’s expected time. Wouldn’t you think they would have opened a Bethlehem office? But they were so busy being religious that they neglected to be faithful.
The Magi believed it, so they went looking – to worship. Herod believed it, so he went searching – to destroy. The theologians may or may not have believed it – but they had more pressing matters to attend to. Perhaps they needed to organise a function for the Temple Roof-Repair Fund; or perhaps they had to attend an important symposium on the topic of ‘Aligning Queer Theology with the Theological Imperative for Eco-Sustainability’.
Given this careless-for-truth beginning, it is hardly surprising that when Jesus rose from the dead (O res mirabilis!), this same group of religious leaders was indignant that their religious traditions should be disturbed.
I have to ask myself: I have been told the truth that the King of the World has been born, lived, died and rose again. How much disturbance to my life does this knowledge really make? When the Magi saw the Christ-child they were overwhelmed with joy (v10). Am I? Or is the news just a little bit ho-hum? Am I just a bit church-weary, like the Jewish leaders, unable to be ‘surprised by joy’, as C. S. Lewis entitled his autobiography?
The rest of this chapter is marked by supernatural events – angelic visitors, dreams… Perhaps we need to be careful not to read these as being merely a normal expectation for Christian living. This Advent of the Christ-child was the intervention of God into the territory controlled by the Bent One. The Bible never denies that the world was under a much greater authority of Satan before the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
This birth was an invasion, a secret ops mission into enemy territory. With the Messiah just a vulnerable child, his parents just ordinary people, just Mary and Joe from next-door, the mission was vulnerable to attack and failure before it got properly underway. God is active, nurturing, protecting, preparing underground escape routes for his baby Secret Agent.
And now we see the darkest truth of all. Even the demonic forces of evil were seeking the Messiah to destroy him. Take a deep breath, now. We have to address the Slaughter of the Innocents at Bethlehem. We cannot just ignore it.
I have meditated on this for a very long time. There is a dark horror about it. Accusations come, unbidden, to the mind. Accusations against God’s goodness. But careful, here! The First Principle of scripture is that God is always holy, just and good. We are not. Who am I to challenge God? His justice and goodness must always be conceded, never criticised. But… I can't help but ask… If God could warn Mary and Joe to escape with little Josh, why not Anna and Simon, Sam and Bec and the other families with little boy toddlers, who lived just down the road?
And what did Mary’s Playgroup mums think when their boys were savagely killed, and they discovered that Mary had left town because an angel had warned her husband? Didn’t God have enough angels – enough love and mercy – to warn us, too!?! My Simon was my only little boy, and I loved him so! He had such a cheeky smile and was just learning to walk and talk.
As I read this passage, over and over, I weep real tears and am overcome with grief for these mums and dads and sisters and brothers. And grandparents. I feel their apparent abandonment by a God who cared for Mary and Joe, but not for them?! They lived with this darkness, this secret agony, for more than 30 years, before they finally learned who Mary and Joe’s baby really was. But still… couldn’t he have cared a little bit more for them?
I've sat with these questions for hours. Tears, deep sobs racking my chest as I imagined their pain. I'm a dad. I'm a grandfather. I'm a human being. I've heard other people prate on about their little miracles and how God has been good to them, giving them carparks and cures from colds and shopping bargains while other families suffered.
Why does someone’s child die from cancer, or under the wheels of a truck, or struggling for air all alone in the swimming pool, or destroyed by a terrorist’s attack, while someone else’s child is blessed to win a soccer trophy because their parents prayed for her? Who is this bloody God who cares so well for some and not for others?
This is a perennial human question. A topic for a philosophy class. But here in Bethlehem, it wears a human face and weeps human tears.
I have thought of some answers – but none is really satisfactory. If God had warned the Bethlehem mothers to disperse into other villages, then Herod would probably have ordered a slaughter of every male toddler in Judah. At least it was kept local this way. But this is an excuse, not an answer.
Suddenly, we must realise the truth! It’s morally wrong to blame God for what Herod did. The problem lies not with God, but with the Herods of the world whose fear and insecurity are not mitigated by the depths of horror that they inflict on ordinary people. Hitler, Mao, Stalin, Pol Pot – and hundreds of others – they kill their own people with deliberate and careful method. They always have, and they always will.
I am convinced that the apparently absent God in Bethlehem was not absent at all. He was there, because he knew well what would happen. He wept, too, as the soldiers came and did their terrible work. If I cannot help but weep, 2000 years later, surely he did, too! The only reason that I know compassion at all, is because he has placed it in my heart.
I dare not claim to be more godly than God! We live in a world where God allows human suffering, even though he could thwart it every time. The price of thwarting it would be to remove our freedom, and he will not do that. Blessed be the name of the Lord! The heart of faith is with the suffering faithful, not the religious leaders who are just acting out a drama. Sit with the suffering; this is our calling. When I was in prison, when I was sick, you visited me…
Prayer: Forgive me, O God, when I think thoughts of you that are unworthy. You are always good, and your love is always certain and sure. Help me to know your grace, not to accuse you of evil. That is what Satan does. Let me not be his servant, but yours. Amen.