THE OTHER SIDE OF CHRISTMAS
(Preached on Sunday, December 26, 2004)
When Herod saw that he had been tricked by the wise men, he was infuriated, and he sent and killed all the children in and around Bethlehem who were two years old or under, according to the time that he had learned from the wise men. -Matthew 2:16
This is an extremely upsetting story.
It is a piece of “R” rated storytelling thrown into the midst of our “G” rated Christmas season.
In fact, you are probably wondering what I am doing choosing this passage for our worship here on this day after Christmas. “Leave it to good old Pastor Steve to but a real damper on things and bring everybody down.”
The truth is, I did not choose this passage so much as THE CHURCH, as in the wider church universal, through the lectionary, the chosen readings for each Sunday of the year, has chosen this passage.
And the church is just following Matthew’s lead, for this is still part of the story of the birth of Jesus as Matthew tells it.
In fact, when you read how the gospels present Christmas, isn’t it odd how we sentimentalize and sugarcoat it?
It is almost as if the gospels bend over backward to keep us from sentimentalizing and sugarcoating the incarnation of God in Christ. Still, we try.
But here Matthew describes the birth of Jesus with clear, unblinking realism.
Matthew’s annunciation is not to Mary, but to Joseph who bolts up in bed, awakened by an angel of God with the news that Mary is pregnant.
And then, just in case we try to get sentimental about the birth, this (for Joseph) disrupting, embarrassing birth, Matthew include the horrible account of the slaughter of the Jewish babies by Herod and the flight of the family into Egypt.
Some years ago, I remember watching a Christmas TV special that featured a then-popular singer who spent an hour singing Christmas songs in snow-covered winter wonderland sets, backed up by his smiling wife and grinning children. “Christmas is about family,” he said as the choir hummed “O Little Town of Bethlehem.” “Christmas is about peace and joy, an dyes, love,” he continued. Not a month after Christmas we were told that he and his wife were fighting through a divorce. Not much peace, joy, and love of Christmas!
Christmas is NOT about idealized, sugarcoated images of family that bear little relationship to the reality of our true family life. Christmas is not even really about love and peace. Christmas is about God almighty making a home with us, coming to us, as we really are, rather than who we wish we were.
Christmas is not a universally happy time for everyone.
Most of us (Dianne and I included) have a hole in our hearts which hurts ever Christmas season.
And while the crowds come out to church on Christmas Eve to hear the ancient story of the birth of a baby in a manger stall, we who have gathered here on the day after Christmas, undoubtedly have come for a realistic, honest word of hope.
After all, the day after Christmas is often a let-down.
We didn’t get what we wanted, or if we did, it didn’t measure up to our expectations.
The children have already left the toys lying around, some never to be played with again, to judge from previous years.
A few are broken, or the batteries already dead.
Not to mention the strain of having all those family and relatives at home.
Alternatively, this is for some people the first Christmas without a significant relative or friend.
For others, Christmas is always spent alone.
For many, the holidays are a time of depression, sadness, and disappointment.
This Christmas in our church family, I know of a husband who had to bury his wife right before the holiday; of a young couple who had anticipated celebrating in joy with a newborn child, only to have complications keep the baby in the hospital over the holiday; of another young couple going through a divorce after only two years of marriage; of people dealing with failing health, with the loss of jobs, with damaged friendships.
So it is fitting that on this day after Christmas we learn that Joseph, Mary and Jesus become refugees, and that the coming of the Christ is as much about pain and injustice, as it is about joy and hope.
Every celebration, especially Christmas, has two sides to it.
And this, today, is the other side of Christmas.
This is the day when we remember that in Jesus, God came in the real world, our world.
Make no mistake about it; the baby Jesus was vulnerable to the sword of Herod’s soldiers.
The presence of Herod in our Christmas story is an important reminder that Jesus shares with us the danger and suffering of this world.
And because Jesus does share this risk and danger with us, we can be sure that God, through Jesus, continues to know our struggles and our suffering.
King Herod is a jolt of reality so soon after our celebration of Christmas Day.
He is a dose of reality that helps us hear the good news even more clearly.
That good news is that God, through Jesus, meets us where we are, no matter where we are.
In Jesus, God has joined us where we are in our imperfect and dangerous world.
In Jesus, God meets us in the depths of depression as well as in the heights of elation.
In Jesus, God meets us in disappointment as well as exhilaration.
In Jesus, God has been where we are,, and God has conquered.
No longer a baby, this full-grown Messiah suffered as we do, yet was able to bring his work to a completion.
God was watching over Jesus, even when Jesus could not watch over himself.
And God will watch over us, even at those times when we cannot bring ourselves to believe or behave.
God continues to care for us with steadfast love.
So, now then, how are we to live?
One message we can take from our gospel reading is that we Christians live as realists, faithful realists.
We know that we live in an imperfect world.
Sin, evil and death are with us.
Our own faith in God is no guarantee that we will be spared struggle and suffering — Jesus, himself, was not spared these realities.
But our faith helps us see beyond this suffering to God’s saving work in our lives and our world through Jesus.
No matter what hardships come, we know that God keeps us in Christ and will lead us through life and even through death.
The company was “laying off” again, and a woman who had worked there for ten years was losing her job. Feeling rather down, she complained that other people received God’s blessings, but she never did. A co-worker who was also losing her job said, “Being blessed doesn’t mean that we get everything we’ve always wanted. Being blessed doesn’t mean that nothing ever goes wrong in our lives, or that other people are better than us. Being blessed simply means, having God’s favor. It’s like being married — only better, because God remains faithful and loves us no matter what.”
That is the realistic assurance we can live with.
The other thing we do is live in hope.
We listen for God and then we move.
Joseph had a dream and then acted in faith.
Undoubtedly Joseph, and probably Mary, had a profound sense of God’s presence as they escaped into Egypt.
Surely there are times when we have had this feeling in our own lives. Surely there are times when we experience God’s presence in real and powerful ways.
We live in hope when we listen for these experiences and claim them as real, overcoming our cynicism and despair, with faith and trust.
We have God’s word in Jesus, and we have God’s grace in Baptism and Holy Communion.
We don’t have to be paralyzed by sin and suffering.
God is at work, and we are called to follow and serve.
Here at the end of the story of the birth of Jesus, after the angels, shepherds, wise men, and the baby Jesus, we hear the screams of mothers, weeping for Jewish babies, our nose gets rubbed in politics and pain, blood and sorrow, before leaving Bethlehem.
And even though it’s not the Christmas story we want, it is precisely the Christmas story we need.
For Matthew’s story of the birth of Jesus, with Herod and all, reminds each of us this Sunday after Christmas: Into the world, the real world where we live, and work, and struggle, and work, has come a Savior who is Christ the Lord.
He does not remain above the human fray.
Rather, he enters into the fray that he might bring us to God.
In this world torn with strife, in our lives not always what we would have them to be, that assurance of the presence of a loving God is truly reason to hope, and strength enough to keep going.