Witnesses At the Manger Part II – Herod

 

Rev. Moira Finley

Trinity United Church of Christ and St. John’s United Church of Christ

5 December 2004

Second Sunday of Advent

 

 

When Augustus, our beloved Emperor, ordered the census my first reaction was fear.  It would mean hundreds and thousands of people traveling, going from town to village to be registered.  There would be plenty of opportunities for robbery, for bandits to lie in wait along the roads.  The villages would be filled with people.  They might share the same family line, but that doesn’t mean they’re friendly.  Fights could break out, maybe even riots.  The census was going to be a nightmare.  I had to try and keep the peace, to make sure that no one got hurt, that word didn’t get back to Rome that I had lost control of Judea.

 

As the days went on, my feelings turned from fear to opportunity.  All those hundreds and thousands of people would be coming to the region.  I realized that they would be spending money on lodging and meals and other things.  That meant I would be making money, collecting taxes on all they spent.  But it wasn’t just about the money.  This would be an opportunity for me in other ways too.  You see, I’m keenly interested in talking with people who have traveled.  I’ve never been farther south than Masada in the desert, and no further north than Caesarea, on the Mediterranean.  I realized that some of the people who would come would have traveled vast distances, would have seen more of the world than I could ever imagine.

 

In the weeks leading up to the census, I had my court officials develop a plan, find a way to get these world travelers to the palace so that I could hear from them of their adventures.  We would entertain them with lavish feasts, and I could revel in the stories of their journeys.  And come they did.  We had people come from all over  to Judea to register in the towns their ancestors had come from.  I heard tales of what it was like in Athens, the luxuries of their buildings and temples.  One man had been to Rome and told me that he had, himself, stood in the courts of the Emperor.  A man came from Alexandria in Egypt and spoke of crossing over the sea just as Moses had done those many years ago.

 

But, during the third week of the census, the most intriguing of my visitors came.  They were three wise and obviously quite rich men from far off in the East.  They were kings and astronomers, scientists, in their own lands.  They spoke of the wealth of the Persian empire and the hospitality they had received there.  They had traveled through the perils of Babylon, seeing the place where our people had lived in exile.  They had crossed the great desert, finding it a vast and empty wasteland where only the truly brave or utterly eccentric dared to live.

 

They hadn’t come for the census.  It was only coincidence that they should arrive at the same time as everyone else.  They had been at home and had seen a star rise.  It was, they said, the brightest and biggest star they had ever seen.  As they traveled the star got bigger and bigger, seeming to fill the entire sky.  They said it seemed as if they were following the star to the place where it had its origins.  I had seen the star myself and they were right, it was enormous.

 

But then they spoke of what they believed the star meant.  At home, comfortable in their own kingdoms, they had each been visited by angels, messengers of God.  These angels had told them to pack up, to leave the comfort of their native lands and follow the star, traveling to the place where it had its beginnings.  They said that when they arrived at the end of their journey, they would be in Bethlehem.  They said that at the star’s source they would find the promised one, the one who would shepherd and lead the people of Israel.  They said they would find the Messiah.

 

I couldn’t believe my ears.  They had come to find the Messiah?  They had traveled all this way to find the promise of the prophets, the one who would rule over the restored kingdom of God.  Everything I had prayed for, all I had been waiting for, was going to come true.  God hadn’t abandoned us.  The promise was real.  I was filled with hope, with joy and anticipation.  It would be glorious, the coming of God’s own king.  There would be peace.  All people would live in abundance.  There would be no more war or conflict, no more hunger or want.  Instead there would be peace and unity, plenty and prosperity.  If what they had said was true, if the king had indeed been born under that star, then it would be amazing.

 

I urged them to go.  I wanted them to find this baby, to worship him, to celebrate his birth.  I gave them provisions for their journey, packed their bags with food.  And then, when they had finished adoring and revering him, I begged them to return to my palace, to tell me everything they knew of the baby.  I wanted to know where I could find him, where I could go that I might stand in the presence of the living God, the one chosen to complete God’s work in the world.  They assured me that they would return, after visiting with the child, and tell me all that they had seen and done.  Early the next morning I was up with them as they set out on their way.  I made sure they had everything they needed.  After they had ridden out of sight, I went back into the palace to wait, in not so patient expectation, for their return.

 

The day after they had gone I started to have doubts.  My joy and anticipation at the king’s birth were replaced by fear.  What would it mean for my kingdom if this new king had truly been born?  My sons, what would become of them?  What would they inherit if I wasn’t king anymore?  What would happen to me if I was replaced by this baby?  I didn’t have any other skills and I couldn’t even imagine going from king to regular, ordinary laborer even if I had had skills to use.  I was afraid of losing everything my father, and his father before him, had worked to ensure, the hereditary monarchy of our family.

 

Then days passed, and the days turned into weeks.  The visitors from the east hadn’t returned.  I sent messengers out to find out if they had indeed gone to Bethlehem.  They came back with word that they had, without doubt, arrived, but no one seemed to know where they had gone.  No one could tell my messengers which houses they had visited, where they had stayed, or anything about their trip.

 

Finally I realized that they had tricked me, had lied to me when they promised they would return with news of the baby’s whereabouts.  I flew into a rage.  I threw anything I could get my hands on.  I couldn’t believe they would lie to me, that they could deceive like that.  I didn’t know what to do.  Now I was convinced that this baby, this king they said that had been born, was surely going to replace me, take away my kingdom, threaten my family’s future, destroy everything.  It wasn’t going to be a realm of peace for me, but one of devastation.

 

I couldn’t figure out what to do.  I had to find the baby.  Now I realize I acted rashly, but in the moment it seemed the only option.  I had to secure my family’s place, our status.  I had to know that there wasn’t going to be another king, that no one could take my place, or my son’s.  The night after I gave the order, for all the young boys of Bethlehem to be killed, I felt peace for the first time in months.  I figured I had solved the problem, protected my future.

 

The peace didn’t last long, though.  Within days I was haunted by images of what I had done.  I felt as if I had violated all of God’s laws.  I knew that even my anger, my actions of hatred and fear weren’t enough to stop God’s promises from coming true.  So I went to Bethlehem.  I walked around the streets.  I looked at the inns, the houses, the barns and stables and tried to imagine where the baby had been.

 

That’s when I realized that even though I had tried my hardest to keep that baby, God’s own true Messiah, from claiming his throne it would never be enough.  God’s will would triumph.  The realm of peace and justice, compassion and plenty would come, with or without me.  That child born in Bethlehem would live.  The baby would grow and would do all the things the prophets had claimed.  He would deliver the people from their sins, would restore them to honest and healthy relationship with God, would show them the power of forgiveness and mercy.  There, in Bethlehem, I realized that the future of the world had begun in the life of that tiny baby boy.  Amen.