Then Herod, when he saw that he had been tricked by the wise men, became furious, and he sent and killed all the male children in Bethlehem and in all that region who were two years old or under, according to the time that he had ascertained from the wise men. [Matthew 2:16 (ESV)]
Ruthless and paranoid about possible usurpers to his throne, King Herod the Great killed three of his sons, several uncles and cousins, and one each of his wives, mothers-in-law, and brothers-in-law to protect his regime and keep his crown. Having been crowned “King of the Jews” in 40 BC by the Roman Senate, it’s not likely a man like that would be willing to share his title with an infant the Magi described as “the king of the Jews!” When Herod realized he was duped by the Magi and had no way to identify the infant king, the merciless man safeguarded his reign by ordering the wholesale slaughter of all Bethlehem’s boys two and under.
While there is no historical evidence of this slaughter, the story is plausible. It’s easy to believe that Herod, the Kim Jung-un/Joseph Stalin/Mao Zedong of the ancient world, would order the death of innocent children. When he was dying, the heartless king hatched a diabolical plan to gather all of the Jewish leaders and execute them upon his death. By doing this, he guaranteed that, instead of people rejoicing at his death, the entire nation would mourn. Massacring innocent children was right up his alley!
Perhaps, because the early church grossly inflated the number killed by Herod’s men to between 14,000 and 144,000, historians question its historicity. Bethlehem’s population at the time was somewhere between 300 and 1,500 so there probably would have been no more than two dozen children under the age of two (about half being girls). While the death of even one child is a tragedy, the deaths of 12 to 15 baby boys in a time of high infant mortality probably wasn’t newsworthy. Those innocent children may have gone unnoticed by ancient historians but they had names and mothers and their loss was noticed by all who knew them.
The first Christian martyr wasn’t Jesus on Calvary or even the sainted Stephen; it was a nameless baby boy in Bethlehem. St. Augustine called these murdered children the “flowers of the martyrs” and “the first buds of the Church killed by the frost of persecution,” while pointing out that “they died not only for Christ but in His stead.” They died for the one who would die for all!
Around 485 AD, Herod’s massacre of these innocent children was commemorated in a feast day called Holy Innocents or Childermas. For the Western church, yesterday was this often-overlooked feast day. Just three days after singing “All is calm, all is bright,” we’re singing of Herod slaying children. Instead of picturing Mary peacefully holding Jesus in her arms, we picture Herod’s soldiers tearing babies out of their mother’s arms. This day is the dark side of Christmas. It serves as a poignant reminder of the vulnerability of the innocent and the depths of human cruelty; it is a day to reflect on the sanctity of all human life.
As we recall Herod’s victims, we thank God for the children with which we have been blessed. May we also remember the holy innocents of the twenty-first century. Not just children, but all who are trafficked or abused, refugees or homeless, hungry or disenfranchised. Today’s holy innocents are all who are victimized, poverty-stricken, vulnerable, or casualties of war. Both young and old, all are God’s precious children. How can we protect them from the Herods of today?
We remember today, O God, the slaughter of the holy innocents of Bethlehem by King Herod. Receive, we pray, into the arms of your mercy all innocent victims; and by your great might frustrate the designs of evil tyrants and establish your rule of justice, love, and peace; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen [Collect for Holy Innocents from the Book of Common Prayer]
Then was fulfilled what was spoken by the prophet Jeremiah: “A voice was heard in Ramah, weeping and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children; she refused to be comforted, because they are no more.” [Matthew 2:17-18 (ESV)]
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When writing about nitroglycerin recently, I realized there’s something else in our lives much like this strange chemical that is both helpful and harmful. Like nitroglycerin, man’s capabilities are a dichotomy between good and evil, constructive and destructive, and beneficial or detrimental. The same mind capable of creating a vaccine that saves thousands of lives is capable of creating a nuclear bomb that can take those lives. James speaks of this incongruity when writing about the way we use our words, “We use our tongues to praise our Lord and Father, but then we curse people, whom God made like himself. Praises and curses come from the same mouth! My brothers and sisters, this should not happen.” [3:9-10]
“Chocolate comes from cacao beans. Beans are vegetables. Salads are made of vegetables. Therefore, chocolate is a salad!” said the sign in the bakery. “I like their logic!” I thought. If you’ve ever tried to lose weight you probably know the loopholes used by dieters. Broken cookies have no calories because they fell out when the cookies broke, anything eaten with a diet soda is calorie-free, and food eaten off someone else’s plate doesn’t count because the original calories belong to them! Technically, anything licked off a spoon while preparing food isn’t eating; it’s cooking! Furthermore, if you’re eating with someone else, you’ve kept to your diet if the other person consumes more than you! As a once struggling dieter, I know all the excuses to justify over indulging. The worst lies are the ones we tell ourselves and, unfortunately, most of them aren’t as silly as these.
After being asked, “How different would the world look if everyone got what they deserved?” I started wondering. Even as a child, I knew people didn’t get what they deserved. When I was ten, I watched on television as nine black students tried to enroll in an all-white school in Little Rock, Arkansas; they were blocked by the National Guard and an angry mob of 400 angry whites. Two years earlier, on a bus in Montgomery, Alabama, Rosa Parks was arrested for refusing to give up her seat to a white woman. I grew up in Detroit and, while discrimination and segregation were more subtle than in the South, it existed. I lived in a large home with a big yard on a tree-lined street but any bus trip “downtown” told me that the people of color didn’t live in neighborhoods like mine. There may not have been “colored” drinking fountains or “white only” bathrooms but there was a six-foot high, one-foot wide, and half-mile long wall segregating one black community from a neighboring white one. Many other invisible and more impenetrable walls existed within our divided city.
The two were seated next to us on the patio; the frail elderly woman was the mother and the younger woman her daughter. After pondering the menu, the mother had all sorts of questions about it. In no rush to order, she dithered over her entrée choice and, once food was served, she lingered over it. As I observed the two women, I could see and hear the daughter’s growing frustration and impatience with her mother. They reminded me of the times I took my mother-in-law out to lunch. Having “been there and done that,” I wanted to tell the daughter to be patient. One day, mom would be gone and she’d wish they had more days together.
Devotions of the Heart 