1/7/18 “The Struggle is Real” by Nancy Petty

Text: Matthew 2:1-12

“Behind every villain is a truth, whether it be perceived or actual.”
-Dalton Frey, The Darkest Light

To have a hero, every good story needs a villain. “And in the archives of literary history, there have been some downright scoundrels. No deed is too dark, not action too despicable” for some of our favorites.

• Lord Voldemort in Harry Potter

• Sauron in Lord of the Rings

• The Wicked Witch of the West in The Wonderful Wizard of Oz

• Long John Silver in Treasure Island

• The White Witch in The Chronicles of Narnia

• Simon Legree in Uncle Tom’s Cabin

• Professor Moriarty in Sherlock Holmes

• Darth Vader in Star Wars

• Captain Hook in Peter Pan and Wendy

• Bill Sykes in Oliver Twist

• Cruella de Vil in One Hundred and One Dalmatians

But villains are not confined to the pages of such great literary works as these. Our sacred scriptures offer some of the greatest antagonist, scoundrels if you will, known to humanity.

• Lucifer better known as Satan

• Rameses the Great

• Abimelchk

• Jezebel

• Cain

• Judas Iscariot

• Lot

• Herod the Great

And, of course, the villain of our story today, Herod the Great. Herod was the famous King at the time of Jesus’ birth. He was a Jewish ruler who governed Judea with the support of the Romans. Among his greatest achievements was the building of the Second Temple. He is, however, best known for his massacre of the innocent children.

The story goes like this. When Herod heard of the birth of Jesus, he wanted to prevent a replacement king, so he called for the magi to learn from them the exact time the star had appeared in the sky over the newborn child. He then sent them to Bethlehem to search for the child so that he, in his words, might pay homage to him. But we know the rest of Herod’s story. When the magi returned home by another road—meaning they did not return to Herod—Herod ordered the murder of all newborns in the village of Bethlehem. And it is for this reason that he is remembered as the evil Herod the Great. But, as it is with all of us, Herod is more than this one snapshot.

Herod’s despotic rule has been characterized by many historians as having been aimed at suppressing the contempt his people, especially Jews, had towards him. For instance, it has been suggested that Herod used secret police to monitor and report the feelings of the general populace towards him. The great historian, Josephus, describes how Herod sought to prohibit protests, and had opponents removed by force. How he spent lavish sums on his various building projects. His buildings were very large, ambitious projects. He was responsible for the construction of the Temple Mount, a portion of which remains today as the Western Wall. In addition, Herod also used the latest technology in hydraulic cement and underwater construction to build the harbor at Caesarea. Historians could have lauded his development of Judea as good for the people bringing employment opportunities for the citizens. But instead Herod was remembered by his people for his taxation system which heavily burdened the Judean people. (I’ll let you draw your own conclusions as to how this story is relevant for our times and our elected officials.) While Herod’s zeal for building transformed Judea, his motives were not well intentioned.

So why spend all this time talking about Herod. Here’s why. Herod is a real person known to us from historical documents about his time as King of Judea. But Herod is also an archetype, a representation of the antagonist within us all. Herod the archetype represents our insatiable desire for power and control. He reminds us of the times in our lives when we allow fear to direct our actions; and the times where we use fear to control others. He holds a mirror reflecting back to us our own desire for stability and convention over growth and change. He shows us those places where we fear “the other,” and where we participate in the system of dominance that privileges us. He represents to us all those places where our hearts are closed, shut down, and locked up. It is true that within each of us there is a Herod who reminds us of our need to preserve what has always been. There lies within you and me and us a Herod; and to deny that truth keeps us closed and shut down and locked out of the possibility of following the light.

Which brings me to the magi in our narrative—a religious caste that paid special attention to the stars, which at the time was highly regarded as a science. In short, these magi were astrologers. The biblical magi were, in the gospel of Matthew, a group of distinguished foreigners who visited Jesus after his birth, bearing gifts. The gospel of Matthew is the only one of the four canonical gospels that mentions the magi. Matthew reports they came from the east to worship the king of the Jews. The gospel never actually mentions the number of magi, but tradition assumed them to have been three in number, based on the statement that they brought three gifts. In Eastern Christianity, the magi often number twelve.

After the visit, the magi leave the narrative by “returning another way home” so as to avoid Herod, and they do not reappear. There are many traditional stories about what happened to the magi after this, with one having them baptized by St. Thomas on his way to India. Another had their remains found by Saint Helena and brought to Constantinople, and eventually making their way to Germany and the Shrine of the Three Kings at Cologne Cathedral.

As was Herod, these wise ones, were real historical figures. And, like Herod, they also serve as an archetype. If Herod represents the antagonist—the villain—then the magi represent the good guys and gals—the heroes of the story: the Robin Hoods and Huck Fins; the Harry Potters and the Nancy Drews; the Matildas and the Elphabas; and the Charlottes as in Charlotte’s Webb. They represent a spirit of seeking and learning. They take risks. They follow their dreams for the sake of justice love. They travel by the way of compassion.

During a Mass celebrating the Epiphany, Pope Francis called the faithful to be like the Magi. Here is what he said about the magi:

If we want to find Jesus, we have to overcome our fear of taking risks, our self-satisfaction and our indolent refusal to ask anything more of life. We need to take risks simply to meet a Child. Those risks are immensely worth the effort since in finding that Child, in discovering his tenderness and love, we rediscover ourselves.”

Francis goes on to say that the Magi were the only ones who saw the star because they were among the few people who raised their eyes to the heavens. He said:

“We often make do with looking at the ground: it’s enough to have our health, a little money and a bit of entertainment. I wonder if we still know how to look up at the sky. Do we know how to dream, to long for God, to expect the newness he brings, or do we let ourselves be swept along by life, like dry branches before the wind? The Magi were not satisfied with “just getting by, with keeping afloat” and continued instead to look up and follow the path.

Jesus’ star does not dazzle or overwhelm, but gently invites, calling faithful to beware of the “meteors” and “shooting stars” that promise success, wealth and fortune only to quickly fade away and “mislead rather than lead.”

“Another quality the pope encouraged mass goers to borrow from the [magi] is to “set out” in order to find Jesus. In order to do this, faithful must also free themselves from unnecessary burdens and push through life’s obstacles. “Jesus allows himself to be found by those who seek him, but to find him we need to get up and go, not sit around but take risks, not stand still, but set out,” Francis said…“Following Jesus is not a polite etiquette to be observed, but a journey to be undertaken.” (Claire Giangravè, Crux, Jan. 6, 2018)

And so we have these two archetypes: Herod and the Magi. Within each of us lies a Herod, wanting to stay locked in our palaces of safety and privilege and control, willing to do harm to others to protect our power. And within each of us there is a magi, longing to step out of comfort zones, to set out on the journey to rediscover ourselves as God’s sees us, to take the risk of encountering something holy and sacred that will cause us to change directions and lead us to abundant living.

The struggle between the Herod within us and the Magi within us is real. We are human and our desires for control and power and comfort and privilege are real. But within our humanity lies our divinity—our longing for truth, to follow our dreams, to take a risk for finding a deeper meaning and purpose in life—and these desires are just as real. The struggle is real. But each time we choose to follow the Magi within us rather than the Herod within us we find life and love and hope; and we discover the true meaning of God with us.

On this Epiphany Sunday we are invited to follow the light as did the magi. I end this meditation with the words of Sally Buckner, who in her poem In A Dark Season, reminds us to sing the presence of the light.

In A Dark Season

Though fog has shrouded sky and hill,
I dare to dream this Christmastime
that you may tread a steady trail
with hands to hold you as you climb.

May candles fling their bravest flame
against the claim of bleakest night,
and great bells sound their silver chime
to sing the presence of the light.