2^nd February 2011

Rev Dr Max Champion at St John's UCA Mt Waverley Sunday 26 December 2010

Lessons -- Isaiah 63:7-9; Matthew 2:13-23

The reading from Matthew's Gospel seems out of place in our Christmas celebrations. Instead of peace, harmony and goodwill at the 'festive season', it reports a bloodbath in and around the place of Jesus' birth.
We may wonder what happened to the serenity of silent night! Even the compilers of the lectionary are uneasy, omitting references to Herod's unspeakable brutality in vv 16-18.

Perhaps a recent news report from Bethlehem will help us put Christmas in context. Once more an unholy row has erupted over control of the church supposedly built over the place where Jesus was born. Christians of Orthodox, Franciscan and Armenian descent are in furious disagreement, the battle for control being fought on the streets and in the courts. There are also frequent clashes between Palestinians and Jews. Tourists often experience conflicting emotions in Bethlehem: being inspired at the Church of the Nativity and frightened at riots in the streets outside.

Matthew's very confronting nativity story stops us becoming sentimental about 'baby Jesus'. Unlike Luke's story, there is little to be glad about.
Apart from the wise men who were 'overwhelmed with joy' and 'paid him homage', the mood is sombre and menacing. Herod, sensing a threat to his power, pretends to be interested in the birth of the 'newborn king'. He is foiled when the wise men are alerted to his evil plans (2:1-12).

It is not for nothing that this barbaric episode -- which is central to Matthew's Christmas story -- is known as the 'Massacre of the Innocents'.

The reliability of the story is uncertain. There is no specific record of a massacre of children. But it fits Herod's megalomaniacal behaviour, murdering three of his sons and random citizens in order to terrify the population and hang on to power. And it has the ring of authenticity when matched against the profile of tyrants in the 20th and 21st centuries.

Matthew, however, is not interested in giving a precise historical report, as we would expect today. Unlike his account of the passion and crucifixion of Jesus, which is grounded in solid historical events, he reflects on Jesus' whole ministry -- from baptism to resurrection -- in order to compile a profound theological account of Jesus' significance out of the sketchy events surrounding his birth and early childhood.

Therefore he intricately weaves strands of Old Testament tradition, birth legends and key moments in Jesus' controversial life to form a story that fits with what the Church had already experienced of Jesus in his adult ministry. In doing this, Matthew has captured the essence of the Gospel in miniature.

Drawing on ancient Jewish traditions dating from around 600BC, he links events surrounding the birth of Jesus with events surrounding the birth of Moses (Exodus 1:15-22) and the death of Rachel (Genesis 35:16ff). Herod is cast as the new Pharaoh. Jesus is the new Moses who, having been saved as a child from a brutal death, later saves his people from oppression and sin. Like Moses' family, Jesus' family only return to the place of bloodshed when they are assured that the tyrant is dead (Exodus 4:19).

Bethlehem is portrayed by Matthew, not as a place of peace and goodwill (as in Luke) but as a place of 'wailing and loud lamentation' (2:18; Jeremiah 31:15). In this way, he connects the suffering that accompanies the birth of Jesus with two poignant moments in Israel's history: their suffering in Egypt (c1250BC) and their grief as they gathered at Ramah before being forcibly removed to Babylon (c600BC).

The sad case of Rachel that was previously mentioned by Jeremiah in relation to Jewish deportation to Babylon is now used by Matthew in relation to the sorrow which accompanies Jesus' birth. Rachel died giving birth to Benjamin while on the way to Bethlehem (Genesis 35:16ff).

Matthew's point is clear: the place of Messiah's birth, the One who is Emmanuel 'God with us', is a place marked by conflict, brutality and sorrow!

This is hardly the stuff of Christmas cheer! But it does provide a necessary strong dose of realism when sentimentality threatens to swamp the Christmas message. We cannot truly celebrate Christmas until we hear this discordant note. As Clive Skewes has written, 'For all its brutal violence, it is what Christmas is all about: our Saviour's invasion and confrontation with the forces of evil. ... Matthew insists that the birth of Jesus fulfilled scripture when things were at their darkest.' (Clive Skewes, 'The cradle and the cross' in Feeding Together February 2005.)

In his intricate and imaginative way, Matthew shows us that the coming of the Christ-child is a re-enactment of hope which, like the eventual exodus from Egypt and the return from exile in Babylon, came through great suffering, persecution and sorrow. Though Moses did not see the Promised Land and Rachel died before reaching Bethlehem, God's purposes have been fulfilled in the One who is a threat to those intent on doing evil.

Matthew's nativity story is very unsettling! Indeed it is very bad form to mention evil among decent folk. Isn't Christmas about peace and goodwill?

Yes -- and No! No, if we think that, in the Christ-child, God simply turns a blind eye to inhumane actions which mock the dignity for which we have been born. Yes, if we think that, in the Christ-child, God names evil for what it is, is himself rejected by those who do what is evil and still thwarts their evil plans.

Christmas time is not a time to set bad things aside. Consider the horror that Herod unleashes on Bethlehem -- infanticide on a grand scale -- the Massacre of the Innocents. If, like Bishop Spong, we think Matthew's account is unduly exaggerated and can therefore be dismissed as having any relevance to us, we should think again.

Today in many places, like China, infanticide is still practised. In the supposedly enlightened 'Christian West' abortion on demand up to the point of birth is regarded as a woman's right and the right to life of the unborn is denied by barbaric medical procedures carried out in the name of compassion. Current Victorian legislation provides no protection for the unborn. Child sex- trafficking, recruitment of child soldiers and suicide bombers, and child-abuse by parents, relatives, carers, teachers and priests is widespread around the globe.

No! Herod isn't alone in doing unspeakable evil against the innocent.
Matthew is absolutely correct to craft his nativity story by weaving ancient traditions, birth legends and incidents from Jesus' unsettling
life-and- ministry to draw attention to the hostility that accompanies the incarnation of Jesus. He shows us that the crucifixion is already present in the crib. God is with us (Emmanuel) in the midst, not of an idyllic world of peace and goodwill, but of terrible, terrible barbarity!

Persecuted Christians too have always been drawn to Matthew's nativity story. Because of their faith in Christ, they have experienced brutal oppression, torture and murder at first hand. Often, fearing death at the hands of militants or the State, they know what it is -- like Joseph, Mary and Jesus -- to become refugees in a foreign land.

Today many refugees are Christians fleeing brutal persecution in places like Egypt, Sudan, Iraq and Iran. They understand the massacre of the innocents! They understand the flight into Egypt! They understand the need to be cunning in evading capture and the risks of seeking sanctuary!

In the Church we rightly plead their cause -- as we should also plead the cause of abused children in our midst. So many adults and children have suffered unspeakable evil at the hands of callous brutes. Why is it then that, apart from a few very unpopular voices, the Churches are silent on the brutal treatment meted out to the unborn in our midst? It is not God's goodwill that the innocent should be killed. But it is a sad fact, as Matthew points out so starkly, that hostility to the coming of Christ can be brutal and terrifying.

What is foreshadowed in the events around his birth is realised in his ministry and death. The One who, unlike others babies at Bethlehem, was saved from death later dies on a barbaric cross in solidarity with all who have been brutalised, persecuted, killed or forced to seek refuge. 'God with us' in the Christ-child is the God who takes upon himself the dread power of evil and, being raised from the dead, strips it of the power to ultimately decide our destiny.

In the context of Jesus' whole life, death and resurrection it is no wonder that the story of the massacre of the innocents is such a strong encouragement to people who are abused, persecuted or must seek refuge.

Nor is it surprising that the 1301 sculpture by Giovanni Pisano is so appropriately placed on one of the panels of the pulpit in St Andreas Church, Pistoia Italy -- beside panels of Jesus' birth, the adoration of the wise men, the crucifixion and the Last Judgement. It is a reminder to preachers and congregations alike that the birth of Jesus is a deeply unsettling event which should nevertheless 'overwhelm us with joy' (2:10).
Despite the actions of evil people who demean human dignity, God's goodwill for humanity -- Jew and Gentile alike -- has not been ultimately thwarted.

And for those who grieve over what they have done to the innocent, there is joy at knowing God's forgiveness in the One who has suffered for all.

This is the Good News proclaimed by Matthew in his profound and intricate account of Jesus' nativity. May it stir us to joyous adoration and costly social action.

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Rev Dr Max Champion is minister in the St John's Uniting Church, Mt Waverley, Victoria, Australia. Dr Champion is Chair of the Assembly of Confessing Congregations within the UCA.