I think today’s gospel (Matthew 2:13-15, 19-23) should have come with a spoiler alert. So here it is. Are you ready? 

Spoiler Alert: Christmas happens in the real world; not in the candlelight of a silent night, and not away in a manger. 

Here’s why I say that:

• “The little Lord Jesus [can’t risk being] asleep on the hay.” “Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him.” 
• “Get up,” the angel warns Joseph in a dream, “take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt.” “The little Lord Jesus [will have no place to lay] down his sweet head.” 
• And I can’t image that in this nightmare “little Lord Jesus no crying he makes.” I can, however, imagine Mary and Joseph scared and desperate, and Jesus crying. That’s real.

Today’s gospel spoils whatever sentimental or romantic notions we might have about Christmas. It connects us to the tears of children, the moans of adults, and the pain of the world. I’m not trying to ruin Christmas for you but to make it more real, relevant, and imperative.

Most of us know the Christmas story primarily through Luke’s account of the gospel. As I mentioned last Sunday, he tells us who is there and what is happening. John takes us a bit deeper and describes what it all means. Matthew, however, is describing the world, the context, in which all of this is taking place. It’s the world of King Herod.

Today’s gospel is the part of the Christmas story we often forget, turn away from, and don’t talk about. Have you ever seen a Christmas card depicting King Herod? Me either. And who would want their child or grandchild to play King Herod in the children’s Christmas pageant?

It’s the part of the story that describes the tyranny, abuse of power, cruelty, and violence of the world into which Jesus is born. And it’s personified by King Herod.

This Christmas Child is a threat to Herod’s power, security, and authority. His kingdom is at risk and he is scared, angry, and violent. So much so that he “is about to search for the child, to destroy him.” Other children will be acceptable collateral damage, as they often are today.

It’s the part of the story in which Joseph says, “Mary, wake up. We have to get out of here to save our baby.” The Holy Family is now a refugee family. Unfortunately, not much has changed since that first Christmas. The Herods of this world are still displacing people and destroying lives. And some parents are still risking everything for the life of their child. 

A few years ago a woman told me she had received a Christmas card with the usual greetings and wishes but the sender also included a wish that the New Year would be “migrant free.” I thought to myself, Wasn’t Jesus a border crossing migrant baby? What if that first Christmas had been migrant free? What if Herod had succeeded? Where would we be now?

Today, I wonder why the sender didn’t wish for a New Year that is Herod free. But once again it’s not. Domestic terrorism in New Orleans on the eighth day of Christmas proved that. 

Herod and all he represents are as much a part of Christmas as are Mary and Joseph, singing angels, adoring shepherds, gift-bearing wise men, light shining in the darkness, grace upon grace, and the Word becoming flesh and living among us. 

Christmas happens in the world of Herod. Thank God for that. It’s where we most need the Child to be born. 

Do you see now why I said that today’s gospel should have come with a spoiler alert? It fact checks our Christmas illusions. It’s painful. And that pain is as real and present today as it was in Jesus’ day. 

I’d much rather sing about the “Silent Night” when “all is calm, all is bright.” But is it really? Maybe we should be singing “We shall overcome” as a Christmas hymn instead. Isn’t that really “the good new of great joy” the angel proclaims to the shepherds? And isn’t that really why this Child is such a threat to Herod? 

Herod gets it. He’s right to be afraid. This Child’s birth is the start of a revolution. But it’s not a revolution won by money, political influence, military might, or any of our usual understandings of power. It is a revolution won by a change of heart. 

So let me ask you this. What is it we need to overcome? What is this Child asking you to overcome? What is he asking Uvalde and the United States to overcome? 

I need you to stick with me on this next part. I’m going to list a number of things and maybe one or two of them will speak to you about your own overcoming. So here we go. 

Is it fear of others, those who are different, that needs overcoming? Is it anger or resentment? Guilt or shame? The need to be right or in control? Revenge? Conflict? Is it estrangement from another? Is it despair, indifference, or self-centeredness? Is it cruelty and meanness? Is it violence against ourselves, another, the environment. A lack of compassion? Maybe it’s privilege, power, and position. Maybe it’s our refusal to “strive for justice and peace among all people.”

Do we need to overcome pride, partisanship, nationalism, triumphalism? Maybe it’s certainty or close mindedness. Maybe we need to overcome the exclusion and oppression of others. Surely prejudice, bias, and racism should be on the to overcome list. What about poverty and economic exploitation? How about judging and blaming? Maybe it’s all the ways we “horribilize” others and fail to “respect the dignity of every human being.”

These and a thousand other things like them describe Herod’s world and, perhaps, yours and mine. Herod is real in each of our lives, our city, our country. Every time we deny, ignore, excuse, or are complicit with Herod, we are saying that we have no need of or room in our lives for this Child who overcomes. That’s not who I want to be or how I want to live. What about you? 

This hasn’t been an easy sermon to preach. I suppose it hasn’t been an easy one to hear. And if it’s disturbing you; good. It’s also disturbing me. It should. We should all be disturbed by and uncomfortable with the ways of Herod.

I know this is a different take on Christmas and probably not what you are used to. And maybe you don’t want to hear it. I’m really not trying to provoke or upset anyone. But we need a Christmas as real as Herod. I no longer want to settle for just a Merry Christmas and I hope you don’t either.   

We need something more than and beyond a Merry Christmas. We need an Overcoming Christmas. That’s my wish and prayer for you, myself, and the world – that we would celebrate, live, support, and participate in an Overcoming Christmas. 

I wonder what an Overcoming Christmas looks like and means in your life today. What is it asking of you? What needs overcoming in this new year?

“O come all ye faithful,” but do more than just adore. Overcome.

___________________
Image Credit: By Henry Ossawa Tanner – https://nmaahc.si.edu/object/nmaahc_2015.2.3, Public Domain, Wikimedia Commons.
* This sermon was inspired by McCaulley, E. (2024, December 25). What ‘Silent Night’ Misunderstands About Christmas. The Atlantic. https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2024/12/not-so-silent-night-christmas-jesus/681106.