Late one December evening I was getting my outdoor plants ready for an expected freeze. I carried some into the storage room off my patio and did a marginal job of wrapping the climbing plants. The last one was a hanging basket with a three year old variegated ivy sort of plant that hangs in front of my kitchen window. Just to say up front that I am not the best tender of plants. Anyway I reached up to lift it off the hook and was surprised when a flurry of feathers came out of the plant and whisked by my head. To say that I was surprised is an understatement. I almost dropped the whole thing. When I came back to my senses I realized that two small birds had settled themselves in what they thought was a safe place to roost. In the center of the basket was a hollowed out little hole just the size for two smalls birds wanting to get out of the wind and rest for the night. My immediate reactions were sadness and guilt that I had gotten in the way of their plans and had dashed their hope for safety. So when I sat down to give body to a reflection on this terror driven story, told by Matthew, - I identified with Herod – For those two little birds I was the despotic ruler destroying the illusion of safety in a hanging basket and forcing the avian interlopers into exile.
Now
we are nearing the end of the Christmas season.
For most Americans at least - the Christmas tree is already at the curb
waiting for pickup and the ornaments are packed away in the attic. Football dominates the TV and around here our
attention is fast shifting to Mardi Gras parades. Matthew does not want us to go there just yet
though. We want to continue with the
warm and fuzzy feelings with shepherds and angels and Mary and Joseph doting
over their baby son. But instead we hear
a hair-raising story of fear, deceit, escape, and murder.
For
today the wise guys are still on the road.
But between now and Epiphany on Tuesday
the royal entourage from the East will divulge the location of the newly
born “king” that Herod fears, shower the baby with gifts and then, warned by an
angel, sneak out of Bethlehem to avoid Herod.
Herod then, in his anger, orders that all recently born male children in
Bethlehem be killed. Joseph, unaware of
Herod’s threat, is again visited by an angel in a dream telling him to run for
his family’s life. So he packs the
donkey and flees to Egypt. The Holy
family remain there until Herod himself dies.
And once again he is visited by an angel who tells him that it is safe
to return home, but now Herod’s son is in power and joseph knows that his son
will not be safe. Matthew tells us that
Joseph, Mary and Jesus make a third journey to Nazareth where tradition has it
that he opened a carpentry shop and raised his family. While the birth in a stable and the angelic
chorus singing to the shepherds in Luke is a lovely story – Matthew 2 makes for a gritty – disturbing tale that, if
nothing else, on this second Sunday in Christmas 2026 is much more realistic,
more believable and relatable to the world in which we live today. Luke makes for a great candlelight service –
but Matthew is as raw as the news on the TV.
I
say it seems more realistic to me because everything I know about the teachings
and works of the grown up Jesus confirm that this birth in a backwater town in
Judah did really did upset the social and religious order of Judah under Roman
rule. Jesus came preaching peace,
justice, love, diversity, equity, sacrificial service, and inclusion. If I had been a Roman puppet governor back
then I would have been frightened for the future of my own power and wealth. Jesus taught love and generosity and faithfulness
to God He gave the oppressed hope.
Herod
didn’t do anything other than that which any other despotic ruler would have
done in first century Roman Empire. And
Joseph did what any parent today would do – he left everything the family owned
behind and set out for a foreign land that seemed to offer relative safety for
his family. In Matthew’s account Joseph had been warned but God’s angel and so
he fled through the desert and over mountains to cross the Nile River and make
a new home for his family.
Today
standing here it occurs to me that this story might very well be at least
equally important as the Christmas story we read on Christmas Eve. Granted that Matthew loves to cherry pick
prophetic visions that “prove” who Jesus was – visions like a ruler coming from
Bethlehem, Rachel weeping for her children, and the Messiah being called a
Nazorean. But this story is so realistic
and so important because it’s happening right now. Not only in far off lands – third world
countries – it’s happening right here in our own country in 2026. And it’s not a new thing.
The
last 2000+ years of history have known millions of people called “illegal”
because they tried to escape starvation or persecution, or oppression with only
the clothes on their backs. Were it not
for Gaza, Tibet, Myanmar, Syria, Afghanistan, South Africa, Honduras, and oh so
many more this story in Matthew might seem far-fetched, but in truth it is
reality for millions today. A quick google search finds that as of mid-2025,
over 117 million people are forcibly displaced globally, marking the
highest global displacement levels on record. Images of boats capsizing in the Mediterranean
or in the Caribbean, refugees being incarcerated and deported, ill equipped
refugee camps and missiles destroying access to food, water, and healthcare –
these are the things that bring sorrow and despair to our world.
I
think that just maybe that is exactly why Matthew tells this story in all it’s
gruesome detail. Matthew wants to let us
know even in the face of all this suffering that in Jesus - God does draw near
to us. This story is so realistic
because Matthew knew better than most of the Gospel writers that because in
Jesus God assumes our mortality, God suffers right along with us. In his lifetime Jesus knew what it meant to
be unhoused, to be poor, to be persecuted, to fear, to be disappointed, to be
violently assaulted and to die at the hands of fear and hate. And Jesus knew what it means to love as God
loves.
You
know this world in which we live is in many ways a beautiful place and there is
often love and kindness peaking through the cracks of our lives bringing joy,
and love and hope to us – and God is at the center of that too. Just as God was with Mary and Joseph and
Jesus as they fled persecution – God was also with them as they settled in
Nazareth and went about the business of reading Torah in the Temple, performing
mitsvahs, sitting shiva, playing with friends, going to weddings. God is with us in all of those things too –
comforting us, bringing us hope and love.
Paul tells us in his letter to the church in Rome that nothing… nothing can separate us from the love of
God. That’s why this story is so
important. No fearful king, no powerful
conqueror, no disease, no earthly calamity – nothing can ever separate us from
God’s love as we know it in Jesus Christ.
So the next time someone steals your hanging basket
that you thought was going to be a safe place to sleep – be like the little
birds in my yard - don’t lose hope. Don’t
be afraid to fly to another tree, because God has provided lots of bushes and
trees in the yard where you can seek refuge.
In the face of all that tries to sap our hope, I ask that you not let
despair or anger poison your hope - for you and for your children. Christ’s Peace that we offer each time we
share the Eucharist is about freedom from the fear, hatred, and oppression that
limits our love and our life. God’s
shalom is bigger than that. God’s Shalom
opens the way for all to be free to love and to live. It opens the way for Peace on Earth and
goodwill for all.
Former Presiding Bishop, Michael Curry, closed one of
his Christmas messages with this:
“It’s not an accident that long ago,
followers of Jesus began to commemorate his birth, his coming into the world.
When the world seemed darkest. When hope seemed to be dashed on the altar of
reality. It is not an accident that we too, commemorate his coming, when things
do not always look right in this world.
But there is a God. And
there is Jesus. And even in the darkest night. That light once shined and will
shine still. His way of love is the way of life. It is the light of the
world. And the light of that love shines in the darkness, and the darkness has
not, cannot, and will not overcome it.”




