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.
