God Is With Us

Matthew 2:13-23

“God Is with Us”

A few years ago after I delivered my Christmas Eve sermon, a nice guy who happened to be skeptical about God, faith and Christianity came up to me, all smiles.

“I’ve finally figured out why people like Christmas,” he said.

“Really?” I answered.

“Please tell me.”

“A baby threatens no one,” he said, “so the whole thing is a happy event that means nothing at all!”

“I hear you,” I said, “but if you come back this Sunday you will hear how, at the heart of the Christmas story there is a baby who poses such a threat to the most powerful people around that the King kills an entire village full of other babies in order to try to get rid of him.”

If we had had more time, I would have continued by sharing how the shadow of the cross falls over the story of Jesus Christ from this moment on.

Jesus was born with a price on his head.

Plots are hatched; angels have to warn Joseph, and they barely escape Bethlehem in time.

Herod the Great, who thought nothing of killing members of his own family, including his own wife and son, when he suspected them of scheming against him, gave orders when he was dying that the leading citizens of Jericho should be slaughtered so that people would have a reason to weep at his funeral.

This Herod wouldn’t bat an eye at the thought of killing lots of young children in case one of them would be Jesus, the “real” King of the Jews.

As Herod’s power increased, so had his paranoia—not unsimilar to dictators around the world from that day all the way to today.

Jesus was born in a land of trouble and tension, violence and fear.

Before Jesus could walk and talk he was a homeless refugee on the run from a paranoid King.

This reminds me about the reality of our world today and how for many of us, the Christmas peace, love, joy and hope we celebrated three days ago feels, now, like it was some kind of cosmic commercial break from the evil and the ugliness of life in the real world.

But this story about Herod’s evil ways—like so many similar stories being told on the news all over the world today—really is another call to remind us about why Jesus was born in the first place.

I mean, if Jesus is going to be Emmanuel, God-with-us, he’s going to have to be where the pain is.

Because there is A LOT of pain.

We would be kidding ourselves if we were to deny that the same kind of horrors that existed 2,000 years ago don’t exist now.

The horrific slaughter in Australia, the mass murder at Brown University.

As of the end of November, a total of 390 people had been killed, and 1,778 wounded in 398 mass shootings this year in the United States alone.

Something like 2 million children were exploited this year in a sinister, global slave trade.

Currently, there are around 9,000 foster children in Tennessee and only about 4,000 available homes.

All this on top of the refugees who have no where to go, cities being bombed to oblivion in the Middle East and the Ukraine and the terror and misery of the millions of people facing starvation around the world.

My point is that children—too many of God’s children—are on the run and displaced and in danger and dying from injustice and persecution and abusive power, like the modern-day version of what had Jesus, Mary and Joseph running for their lives back in the day.

So, let’s read this morning’s Gospel Lesson—that holds evil up to our face in ways we wish it wouldn’t—and let’s see a God who longs to lead and to love us in spite of it all.

Let’s read this story—as part of the Christmas story—and let’s see a God who doesn’t stay swaddled in that manger for long…

…a God who didn’t show up just to hear angels sing…

…a God who didn’t come to be coddled and cared for only when nights are silent, only when all is calm and all is bright, only when the world is full of joy and peace and good-will.

Let’s hear this story—as hard as it may be—and let’s see a God who isn’t afraid to get into the ugly, scary, death-dealing mess of our lives in this world.

To do anything else—to skip over this part of the story—is like leaving the plastic on the sofa; it’s like never using the fine china; it would be like leaving the greatest gift of Christmas—God’s presence and hope for healing, forgiveness, mercy, and new life in Jesus Christ—wrapped up and underneath the Christmas tree untouched, unopened and unshared with the world.