Genocide, Migration, and Exile—A Christmas Story—Lectionary Reflection for Christmas 1A (Matthew 2)

Matthew 2:13-23 New Revised Standard Version UpdatedEdition

¹³ Now after they had left, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, “Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you, for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him.” ¹⁴ Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother by night, and went to Egypt ¹⁵ and remained there until the death of Herod. This was to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet, “Out of Egypt I have called my son.”

¹⁶ When Herod saw that he had been tricked by the magi, 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 magi. ¹⁷ Then what had been spoken through the prophet Jeremiah was fulfilled:

¹⁸ “A voice was heard in Ramah,

    wailing and loud lamentation,

Rachel weeping for her children;

    she refused to be consoled, because they are no more.”

¹⁹ When Herod died, an angel of the Lord suddenly appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt and said, ²⁰ “Get up, take the child and his mother, and go to the land of Israel, for those who were seeking the child’s life are dead.” ²¹ Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother, and went to the land of Israel. ²² But when he heard that Archelaus was ruling Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there. And after being warned in a dream, he went away to the district of Galilee. ²³ There he made his home in a town called Nazareth, so that what had been spoken through the prophets might be fulfilled, “He will be called a Nazarene.”

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                We prefer our Christmas stories to be gentle and peaceful. It is supposed to be a “Silent Night, Holy Night,” where “away in a manger, no crib for a bed, the little Lord Jesus laid down his sweet head.” That’s the preferred message. The story we read in Scripture, especially in the Gospel of Matthew, offers a different take. Yes, we have the visit of the magi who follow the star to Bethlehem so they can offer gifts to the newborn king (Matt. 2:1-12). However, that joyous moment of reverence is short-lived.

                The story that follows the visit of the magi involves genocide (the massacre of the infants) and exile/migration (the Holy Family’s flight to Egypt). When we think of genocide many of us will have in mind the Nazi-instigated Holocaust (Shoa) that led to the death of millions of Jews, gypsies, the mentally ill, the disabled, along with gays and lesbians. Armenians have another genocide in mind, as well as Native Americans. Genocide is more common than we think. The goal is to purify the land or clear away rivals. In essence, genocide occurs when those who have power feel threatened by those who do not have such power. That is part of the Christmas story, but not the entire story. There is also the story of migration, a story that has current relevance, as thousands gather at the southern border of the United States seeking asylum or a new beginning. Wars in Ukraine, Syria, and elsewhere have created massive people movements. Both of these realities are touched upon by our reading for the first Sunday after Christmas.

                The story begins in Matthew 2:13 with a vision given to Joseph, who is told by an angel to get up and take the family to safety in Egypt. The flight to Egypt has special meaning for Jewish Christian readers of the first centuries of the church, as the Book of Exodus tells the story of the Hebrews’ flight from bondage in Egypt. Now, the Holy Family must reverse that trek and return to what once was a place of bondage so they can find safety.  They must flee to Egypt because Herod is jealous of a potential rival in Jesus, the holy child, born in Bethlehem, whom the magi have visited and provided gifts to honor his birth. That Herod would be afraid of a child born in a small town to a non-descript family makes little sense. After all, Herod might not be a descendant of the House of David, but he had the full backing of the Roman Empire. Nevertheless, the magi’s report about a star pointing to the birth of the king of the Jews spooks him. Therefore, he decides to deal with the problem by having his soldiers murder every child under the age of two.

                Now, this part of the story has a parallel in the Exodus story. In that story, a child is rescued after Pharaoh decides to deal with a population explosion among his Hebrew slaves by having every male child under two killed. That child, to be known to history as Moses, will be rescued after his mother places him in a basket and sets him in the river, and directs him to Pharaoh’s daughter, who adopts him and raises him as her own (Exod. 2:1-10). That parallel is intentional.

                Matthew tells us that when Joseph heard this word from the angel, he got his family up and they fled in the night to Egypt, staying there until Herod died. In the meantime, Herod’s soldiers murdered the innocents of Bethlehem, even as Pharaoh had the innocent Hebrew children murdered. In each case, a child is rescued who will later serve as the savior of his people.  

                Matthew is keen on connecting the story of Jesus with biblical testimony. We see this in the allusions to the Exodus as well as in a direct reference to a prophetic promise. According to Matthew the family’s exile in Egypt will eventually lead to their return to their homeland so that the promise of Hosea might be fulfilled, that “out of Egypt I have called my son” (Hos. 11:1).  As for Herod’s murder of the children of Bethlehem, that also has prophetic relevance. Matthew suggests that the murder of the children hearkens back to Jeremiah’s word about Rachel weeping for her children, as she cannot be consoled because her children are no more (Jeremiah 31:15). This chapter, of course, is important to early Christian writers, including Matthew, because later in the chapter we have the word about the new covenant God makes with Israel, a covenant that for Christians is created with Jesus in the Lord’s Supper. As for the stories of Moses and Jesus, the efforts of Pharaoh and Herod to thwart God’s purposes are foiled. The two children escape death so that they might fulfill their callings. Moses will hide out in Pharaoh’s household, while Jesus will hide out first in Egypt and then in the Galilean village of Nazareth. His movement to Nazareth leads to the fulfillment of another promise, that “he will be called a Nazorean.”  The reference here is uncertain, though Nazorean sounds a bit like Nazirite, as in Samson’s calling to be dedicated to God from birth (Judges 13:2-7). Whatever Matthew has in mind, he doesn’t quote from Scripture, but the allusion to Judges is possible. Whatever Matthew has in mind, Jesus is not a Nazirite, but he is from Nazareth and his followers were known in some corners as Nazarenes. Ultimately, we simply don’t know what Matthew has in mind here!

                Because this part of the Christmas story is challenging it is easy to set it aside, though in recent years connections have been made between it and the immigration debate. It’s a passage that likely doesn’t get heard by many as the Sunday after Christmas is often lightly attended (especially when it falls on New Year’s Day). It’s also a Sunday when either an associate or guest preacher will fill the pulpit, so it might be safer to skip to the Epiphany texts and focus on the Magi’s visit. Nevertheless, there is much here to ponder, especially when it raises questions about the connection between Jesus’ birth/childhood and both migration and genocide. It provides an opportunity for us to ask the question of where God is present in moments like this. After all, Matthew speaks of Jesus in terms of the title/name Emmanuel, which means “God is with us.” Like Moses, Jesus is a survivor, but why does he survive? What results from his escape from Herod’s henchmen? Could it be that he, like Moses, is called by God to inaugurate a new era, a new covenant vision where justice and peace rooted in love might be experienced?

                Perhaps these two interconnected stories—genocide and migration—coming as they do during this supposedly joyous Christmas season, can serve as a wake-up call to the realities facing us as a species. It opens up conversations about inconvenient issues like why people are lining up at the border, having traveled far to escape violence and poverty in their homelands. It might even call on us to reflect on ways we might participate in unjust actions that put others in danger. Ruthanna Hooke reminds us that there are many forms that pernicious acts of injustice may take.  It needn’t be genocide, but it might entail the uncomfortable truth that children in our country suffer from violence, hunger, and impoverishment. These children may find themselves facing the prospect of not having access to sufficient healthy food or clean drinking water. In many urban centers, children attend schools where lead is an ever-present issue, such that ingesting lead-contaminated water and food can cause learning difficulties and disabilities. Much of this is systemic (though some would suggest that it is being “woke” to suggest such a thing). She writes:

If we are appalled by Herod’s murder of children, we need to change our own priorities and actions so that we protect the children in our midst from suffering and death. The first action we can take is that of Rachel, who “weeps for her children . . . because they are no more” (Matt. 2:18).  In situations of injustice, lament is the first act of awakening our consciences and spurring our wills to action. To join Rachel’s lament over injustice, violence, and murder is to take the first step toward rectifying these situations.  (Preaching God's Transforming Justice: A Lectionary Commentary, Year A,  p. 37). 

                Matthew’s story begins with lament and yet it also includes a call to action. As we ponder this story along with that of Moses’s birth, we should remember that Moses didn’t end up just basking in the glory of Pharaoh’s household, and Jesus didn’t just finish out his life working as a carpenter in Nazareth. When the time was right, both men answered the call to redeem their people. We might not be Moses or Jesus, but might we respond to God’s call to participate in God’s redeeming work? Perhaps the hymn for today is not Joy to the World, but “Here I Am, Lord.” Yes, we can sing with Daniel Schutte’s hymn, in answer to the question posed by the “Lord of sea and sky” who has heard the cry of the people, that is, “all who dwell in deepest sin, “whom shall I send?”

Here I am Lord. Is it I Lord?

I have heard you calling in the night.

I will go, Lord, if you lead me.

I will hold your people in my heart. (Chalice Hymnal, #452).

 

Image Attribution:  Swanson, John August. Flight into Egypt, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56547 [retrieved December 23, 2022]. Original source: Estate of John August Swanson, https://www.johnaugustswanson.com/.