Finding safety in a hanging basket

         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.”