Gospel of Matthew

Between Two Kings

Matthew 2:1-12

In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, ‘Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.’ When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. They told him, ‘In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet:

“And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,

are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;

for from you shall come a ruler

who is to shepherd my people Israel.” ’

Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, ‘Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.’

When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage.

Then, opening their treasure-chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.


Today we celebrate Epiphany, the day when the magi find the Christ child by way of a star and offer him gifts. But this day is about much more than gifts. It’s about a choice between two kings. And to understand the choice it puts before us, we have to know a little bit more about King Herod.

We don’t hear much about this Herod in the New Testament. But there is much known about him outside of biblical literature. He ruled for nearly 40 years before Jesus came along, being crowned King of the Jews by Rome in 37 BCE. He was liked by Rome because he did what they said and he kept the Jewish people happy. That was his job: to make the occupation seem not so bad. He was pretty good at this, that’s why he was known as Herod the Great.

He led huge building campaigns throughout the cities in his area, constructing fortresses, building aqueducts, theaters, and most importantly rebuilding the temple in all its glory.

But none of this work was free and the burden to pay for it all fell on the jewish people in the form of taxes.

Yet worse than his taxes was Herod’s own insecurity. He was constantly plagued with paranoia that someone would oust him. It was so bad, that he divorced his first wife and exiled both her and his son. Then by the end of his life, he had killed his mother, another wife and at least three out of his four sons. Now maybe we aren’t so surprised that when three strangers ride into town asking where the new “king of Jews” had been born, he didn’t hesitate to kill all the infants in Bethlehem.

Everyone loved what King Herod could do, but everyone hated what he cost them. Herod appeared to have the people’s interest in mind, yet ultimately his concern was to appease Rome and remain in power and he would do just enough to maintain this image.

We see the true Herod when these wisemen show up from the east, likely from modern day Iran. They arrive in Jerusalem and unknowingly ask a question that could have gotten them killed: “where is the child who has been born king of the Jews”?

The very question frightened Herod and because he was frightened, so too was all of Jerusalem. They knew the damage he could do.

Herod called for the magi and in this meeting we see the paranoia take over because he lies at that meeting. We know the end of the story; Herod did not want the magi to find the baby Jesus so that he could go and pay him homage also. Herod lies to gain trust, loyalty, to get what he wanted.

The magi go on to complete their journey. They find Mary and the baby in a house, not a stable, with Joseph nowhere to be found. Great timing from the new dad. And it’s here that the magi have a choice. They had already met with Herod likely in his palace. He looked like a king, acted like a king, and had the title of a king. But now they stood in the home of a palestinian peasant family, looking at an impoverished young mother with a baby. They could have said, the star must have been wrong, surely this baby is no king. Let’s take our tribute and treasures to Herod, the real king.

But they didn’t. Instead, they knelt as in worship to this baby and offered him their gifts, but not just any gifts. Gifts that say these wisemen from another country, who practiced another religion, really understood who this baby Jesus was: they gave gold as for a king, frankincense to be burned as to a God, and myrrh for the embalming of a mortal. And since no angel visited Mary telling her all about this baby Jesus, just Joseph in Matthew’s gospel (and we all know how well husbands communicate to their wives), these gifts told Mary for the first time who her son truly was.

With gifts given, the magi must decide what to do next: ignore the dream, tell Herod where the baby is, and hope he was authentic? Or disregard and disobey the king and go home by another road, one that was likely longer or more difficult or unknown all together?

Fortunately, they chose to go another way.

We all have a Herod in our lives. It’s that thing, that person, that political party that lies to you in order to gain some sort of power over you. You call it great because for some time now its been around, its made you feel secure, it’s done some good things for you, but at a cost you can’t afford. It is that thing that makes you think you have the same interest at heart, but in reality it’s hurting you more than helping you.

Perhaps your Herod is sports, whether you play them, watch them, or bet on them. The lie being told is that life is only good when you win, that it should be the most important thing in your life, that your identity is intertwined with this game or team, and that your value as a person depends on how many points you score, records you break, or how much money you win. So you put all your gifts toward this, but it comes at cost.

Or perhaps your Herod is your job. It gives you enough to keep you satisfied, you’ve been at a while so it feels secure. But it tells you that you can always earn more, that you’re just a few steps away from that promotion, and that your interests really are the same at heart. They want from you all your gifts; yet, who benefits the most and at what cost?

Or perhaps your Herod is a political party or politician. And in our heightened political times,

especially with it being a presidential election year, there are and will be many Herods pinning for our loyalty. They will lie to you to gain your trust. But in reality they will do whatever it takes to gain or remain in power. And if you feel secure or at home with a party or a politician, that is your Herod. Yet, as followers of Jesus we are politically homeless, constantly working to make God’s will be done on earth as it is in heaven, which means critiquing and challenging always the powers that be and doing all we can to protect the most vulnerable. If we fail to do that, it comes at cost.

And the cost of any Herod is always more than we can bear: it’s relationships, it’s our identity, it’s time, it’s the wellbeing of ourselves, our neighbors, and it’s sin.

Jesus comes to liberate us from our herods and give another kingdom for you to offer your gifts.

He might not look like a king or act like a king, but he bears the title Emmanuel, God with Us,

and his only interest is forgiveness, and reconciliation, and salvation for you and all creation.

And he was willing to pay the cost of our sin, all our herods, on a cross, so that you can have all the gifts he offers: grace, love, and life eternal; here and now and forevermore.

So like the magi, we too have a choice between two kings. Choosing to follow Jesus is choosing where to place your loyalty and to whom you offer your gifts. It means frustrating those who are in power. It means taking another road, one that is likely longer, or more difficult for you, or unknown all together. It means bowing down to the one you’d least expect, like a peasant infant from Palestine.

The choice is yours. May the Spirit guide. Amen.

Talents, Treasures, and Truth to Power

Matthew 25:14-30

“For it is as if a man, going on a journey, summoned his slaves and entrusted his property to them; to one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability. Then he went away.

The one who had received the five talents, went off at once and traded with them, and made five more talents. In the same way, the one who had the two talents made two more talents. But the one who had received the one talent went off and dug a hole in the ground and hid his master’s money.

After a long time the master of those slaves came and settled accounts with them. Then the one who had received the five talents came forward, bringing five more talents, saying, ‘Master, you handed over to me five talents; see, I have made five more talents.’ His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.’ And the one with the two talents also came forward, saying, ‘Master, you handed over to me two talents; see, I have made two more talents.’ His master replied, ‘Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.’

Then the one who had received the one talent also came forward saying, ‘Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed; so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours.’ But his master replied, ‘You wicked and lazy slave! You knew, did you, that I reap where I did not sow, and gather where I did not scatter? Then you ought to have invested my money with the bankers, and on my return I would have received what was my own with interest.

So, take the talent from him, and give it to the one with the ten talents. For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away. As for this worthless slave, throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’”


Last week, I talked about how – in that parable about the ten bridesmaids who get locked out of the wedding banquet – it is okay and even faithful to see the bouncer at the door – the one who locks them out of the banquet – as someone other than Jesus. That’s a new, different, surprising take on a familiar teaching for some. This morning, then, is a variation on a theme because today’s parable may not be what we’re used to seeing on its surface, either.

First of all, smarter people than me point out that this isn’t what they call a “kingdom parable,” which just means it’s one of those parables Jesus tells that doesn’t begin with the phrase, “The Kingdom of Heaven is like…” And that’s good news because it is one of those parables that ends with “outer darkness,” “weeping,” and “gnashing of teeth.” So, just like it didn’t fit or feel right last week that Jesus would be the one behind the door, keeping others from entering the feast of God’s kingdom, it NEVER feels quite right to see the God we know in Jesus as the one who throws people into the gnashing teeth of the outer darkness.

So this may invite us to wonder, contrary to the expectations and assumptions of many people – and maybe contrary to the way we’re used to reading this parable – if the slaveholding Master in today’s parable doesn’t have to be a stand-in for the God we know in Jesus, either.

AND, we’re left to wonder then, if Jesus’ parable isn’t painting a picture of God’s kingdom then he must be painting a picture of something else – like the world as he understood it to be and as it was for those who were listening to him. And, by extension, unfortunately, the world as it still is for you and me. Which is to say, as we look to find ourselves in the middle of this one, it means Jesus seems to be railing against the ways of the world, and of our misuse of, reliance on, and love for … money.

See, if the Master in today’s story isn’t meant to be a stand-in for God or Jesus, it means he’s just some guy. And he’s a mean, selfish, abusive, greedy one at that. And it changes everything, once we’re allowed to consider him that way. It means that the slaves who please him aren’t necessarily to be commended, they’re to be questioned, if not pitied, even. Yes, they take his money and make more of it, but it was likely by unfair, unfaithful means – and everyone listening in Jesus’ day would have known or assumed that. And those first two slaves may have acted out of fear as much as anything else, knowing what we know happens to the third slave who let the Master down.

See, the truth about society and the cultural norm in Jesus’ day – especially for the faithful, Jewish peasant – was that people weren’t upwardly mobile capitalists, like you and I are trained to be.

Whereas we are inclined to look at these first two slaves who doubled their master’s money with admiration and a pat on the back, Jesus and his listeners would have looked at them with suspicion and judgment – maybe for defrauding someone or lending money with interest, like some sort of tax collector. (We know how people felt about their local tax collector, right?) The Old Testament scripture of Jesus’ faith, after all, is full of warnings and prohibitions against storing up more than you can use, lending money for interest, and the like, so there would have been questions. Maybe, those listening to Jesus would have simply questioned the motivation of any slave to line the pockets of their enslaver just to make their way into his good pleasure.

Because if this isn’t a “kingdom parable,” these slaves who “enter into the joy of their master” weren’t entering into the joy of the God, made known in Jesus. They were entering into the joy of someone more like Don Corleone, or Tony Soprano, or Omar Navarro. The Master in Jesus’ story might have been seen as a money-grubbing swindler who sends others to do his dirty work; this enslaver who reaps where he doesn’t sow and who gathers where he doesn’t scatter seed. And, remember, for their work in the end, these first two slaves were still slaves, after all, being put in charge of more dealings and dirty work that would have made their fellow slaves and the average, law-abiding Jewish peasant cringe.

And all of this means that the poor sap who buried the money… the one who didn’t invest wisely… who didn’t make more of what he’d been given… who didn’t do his Master’s bidding… who ends up cast into the outer darkness with all of that weeping and gnashing of teeth… is actually the hero of Jesus’ story.

This slave bucks the system, as it were. He’s a revolutionary rebel. We can imagine him standing up to the Master, with some measure of fear and trembling, and refusing to play the mob-boss’ game. He buries his money in the ground rather than try to make more of it by cheating others, by charging interest, or by otherwise growing that kind of wealth just for the sake of growing wealth, or adding to his Master’s capacity to continue enslaving and oppressing his subjects. And he returns to the Master the same, singular, measly, dust-and-dirt-covered talent he was given, perhaps balanced or spinning on the tip of his middle finger, if you know what I mean.

So, what does this have to do with you and me and Cross of Grace and with our lives as followers of Jesus in the world as we know it?

If we understand the parable this way, we see Jesus – not as painting a picture of God’s kingdom where dirty deeds, done dirt cheap are praised and rewarded in heaven. But we see this parable as an indictment of the way too much of the world was and is for so many. In that last slave – the one who gets thrown into the outer darkness? – Jesus may even be painting a picture of just what’s about to happen to him soon enough, when he refuses to play the game of the religious and political masters; when he, himself, is handed over to the outer darkness of the cross and crucified.

And here, then, is our hope and invitation. We are called, as always, to live more like Jesus. When we talk and pray and invite one another to use our money for the good of God’s church in the world, for the sake of the kingdom among us, we are doing nothing more and nothing less than challenging the ways of the world as we know it. We are standing up for generosity in the face of greed. We are choosing to be faithful instead of fearful with our resources.

Wednesday night, many of us heard from Charla Yearwood at the first event, put together by our newly-minted “Racial Justice Team.” As part of that, Charla talked about the inescapable, “normal” of whiteness in our world. She talked about how those in power generations ago began to set the standard for the way the rest of the world operates, still. This is true when it comes to everything from fashion, to academia, to politics, to church, even, as we understand and experience it. And it’s also true where the economics of capitalism are concerned.

A few of us were talking after Charla’s presentation, about how inescapable the ways of capitalism are in our lives and work in the world – especially in this country. How, in order to succeed, by the world’s standards, we have to abide by the rules and follow the ways and live up to the expectations of the capitalist culture in which we live. That’s impossible to deny and I’m such a product of it, I’m not sure it’s always bad. And I can see that it’s so deep and wide and woven into the fabric of our lives and culture and economy that it’s inescapable, even if we wanted to get away from it.

…except for here, in our life together as Christians in the Church and in this place … as believers … as followers of The Way and the ways of Jesus …

And I think that’s something like what we learn from the third enslaved person in Jesus’ parable. That we don’t have to follow all of the rules all of the time. That we don’t have to play the game at every turn. That we can buck the system – refuse to do “The Master’s” bidding – in the name of grace and mercy and equity; generosity, sacrifice, justice and love.

When we give our money away for the work of God’s Church in the world, it is counter-cultural. When we give to others with no strings attached – not expecting a return on our investment or an increase in principle – we rebel against the greed that surrounds us. When we do the math and decide to give a significant portion of our income to the work of God in the world – through church and charity; for the sake of philanthropy and fun, even – we bring the Kingdom to life, like Jesus did.

This is hard, holy work, for sure. But it’s why faithful stewardship, being mindful about our money, and using it as a tool for spiritual growth, are one of the greatest gifts of the church in the world and one of our greatest blessings as disciples. Our offerings are nothing more and nothing less than a spiritual practice that speaks truth to power – if/when we use it that way.

I hope we see the use of our money – especially the ways we are called to give it away – as a way of being freed from the Master that money and greed want to be in our lives. And I believe that when we give – with gratitude for what is already ours – we will be filled with the joy of a different Master – that we’ll be filled with the joy of the Master of grace and mercy and peace and new life – that really is Jesus Christ, our Lord.

Amen