Advent: Living in the Time of Herod

After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi from the east came to Jerusalem…

Herod sent the Magi to Bethlehem and said, “Go and search carefully for the child. As soon as you find him, report to me, so that I too may go and worship him.”…

Having been warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, the Magi returned to their country by another route…

When Herod realized that he had been outwitted by the Magi, he was furious, and he gave orders to kill all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity who were two years old and under.

Matthew 2: 1, 8, 12, 16

Last week at our Thursday night gathering, our discussion about the Magi focused quite a bit on Herod. People’s Nativity scenes and church Christmas pageants don’t often incorporate the king’s horrific slaughter of the young boys of Bethlehem—but it may be one of the most timeless and important aspects of the entire Christmas narrative.

Why? Because all these centuries later, we are still living in the time of Herod.

Understanding Herod

Theologian, ethicist, and political philosopher Stanley Hauerwas (in his commentary on Matthew’s gospel) provides four important words to explain Herod’s actions in this passage: he is a fragile leader who feels insecure about his power, so he stokes fear and wields violence to assert his rule.

Leaders with fragile egos and feelings of insecurity start to panic when it seems that their influence, prestige, position, and reputation are in jeopardy. Their insecurity will not allow them to rest or trust, so they must act to preserve and reassert their control. But what sort of action can amass more power, when the legitimate means of authority are not doing enough to assuage the leader’s ego? Action that causes fear—and it doesn’t really even matter what or whom the people fear. Ideally, it will be a common enemy that can be demonized. If the people are scared enough of the Enemy/Other, they will put more and more trust (and power) in the leader who will protect them.

How can we see insecurity, fragility, fear, and violence at work in the story of Herod and the Magi?

Well, when the king hears about the Messiah’s birth, he immediately hatches a scheme to kill the baby boy. This is clear evidence of deep-seated insecurity: Herod views this baby as an imminent threat to his own right to rule. When that murder plot is foiled, Herod becomes “furious.” The mass murder at Bethlehem seems like less of a strategic element of his plan and more of a lashing out in rage—this man’s emotions are incredibly fragile.

To observe Herod’s fear tactics, we need to do a little reading between the lines. In verse 3 (not quoted above), Matthew tells us that “when King Herod heard [about the Messiah’s birth], he was disturbed, and all Jerusalem with him.” Why was all Jerusalem upset about something that was long-awaited good news? It would seem that Herod—the one threatened by this birth—was causing the city to respond negatively. Perhaps in his public discourse (when he wasn’t privately giving lip service to the Magi), he was spinning the birth as the arrival of a false Messiah who would bring unrest. Hauerwas points out that in general, apart from this episode, it is very likely that Herod controlled his subjects through their fear of the Roman empire (“if you do not like my rule, if you do not obey me, you will like the direct rule of the Romans even less”).

And clearly, Herod’s use of violence in this story does not need explanation.

The Time of Herod

It is worth reflecting, especially during Advent, on the ways in which we still live in the time of Herod. Thankfully, societies have evolved in the last 2000 years. In our context, we would in theory not abide a leader who wantonly kills droves of their own citizens for political purposes.

And yet.

Are we still harmed by presidents, legislators, and judges who are fragile and insecure? Do our politicians stoke fears in order to amass more control? Is State-sanctioned violence inflicted on some people who might be threats to the status quo of power and privilege?

Those questions are framed around civil leadership, but we might just as easily reflect on the Herods within our religious institutions. Given the nature of this blog, we can stick to the Christian tradition and consider how we are harmed by priests, bishops, pastors, and missionaries who are fragile and insecure. How our preachers stoke fears in order to amass more control. How Church-sanctioned violence is inflicted on some people who might be threats to the status quo of power and privilege.

Why carry out these Advent reflections? What do we gain when we better understand the harmful leadership around us? I think that our new understanding might serve as an invitation to join in two Advent activities: lament and resistance. We mourn with those who mourn, just as in the days of the prophet Jeremiah, and again in the days of Jesus’ birth:

A voice is heard in Ramah,
weeping and great mourning,
Rachel weeping for her children
and refusing to be comforted,
because they are no more.

As our hearts lament, our bodies resist. It’s not always clear how best to resist corruption, injustice, fear-mongering, or violence. But once we understand the harms, we can discern which forms of protest, confrontation, reform, schism, or activism are needed.

In addition, understanding Herod’s leadership might help us instead embrace the way of Jesus. We can choose to pursue a way of influence that is not driven by insecurity or fragility, that does not stoke fears or inflict violence—but instead listens, loves, humanizes, and stands in solidarity with those who suffer.

If you’d like to pursue the way of Jesus in community with others who are done with traditional church, you can sign up here to check out Harbor.