What do we do when we feel threatened?

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches
January 4, 2026
Matthew 2:13-23

At the beginning of worship:

In his devotional, Waiting on a Word, which contains a poem a day along with reflections from Advent through Epiphany, Malcolm Guite ponders the sentimentalization of the Nativity. With houses “deluged in a cascade of cosy Christmas images, glittery frosted cards, and happy holy families who seem to be remarkably comfortable in strangely clean stables, we can lose track of the essential gospel truth: that the world into which God chose to be born for us was then, as now, fraught with danger and menace.”^[1]Our readings this year in the gospel of Matthew serves as an antidote for becoming too sentimental. 

Reflecting on the Holy Family’s fleeing Bethlehem, Guite included one of his own poems, “Refugee.” 

We think of him as safe beneath the steeple,
Or cosy in a crib beside the font,
but he is with a million displaced people
On the long road of weariness and want.
For even as we sing our final carol
His family is up and on that road,
Fleeing the wrath of someone else’s quarrel,
Glancing behind and shouldering their load.
Whilst Herod rages still from his dark tower
Christ clings to Mary, fingers tightly curled,
The lambs are slaughtered by the men of power,
And death squads spread their curse across the world.
But every Herod dies, and comes alone
To stand before the Lamb upon the throne.^[2]

Before reading the Scripture:

As we’ve seen over the past three Sundays, Matthew doesn’t spend much time with Jesus’ birth. Instead, he focuses on the wisemen, Herod’s reaction to the birth of the child, and the holy family’s flight into Egypt. Today, we’ll explore that flight and the horrific massacre of the innocent. 

There are three parts to our story. First, an angel tells Joseph in a dream to take the child and flee to Egypt to escape Herod’s plans. Then we have Herod ordering the killing. In the final section, Herod dies. Joseph is given the “all-clear” signal to move back to Israel. But all is not well, for Herod’s family lives on. Through it all, Matthew reminds his readers this took place to fulfill scripture. Matthew writes to those familiar with the Hebrew scriptures, and he wants them to see how God works so that the world might benefit from the realization of God’s promises. 

Read Matthew 2:13-23

This disturbing passage comes on the heels of the Christmas story. We celebrate the birth of the prince of peace, and then, all a sudden, we’re thrown back into the cruelty of the world. Herod, a pathetic character if ever there was one, feels threatened. A cornered tyrant, he does whatever it takes to maintain power and control, even if it means taking the lives of the innocent. Unfortunately, Herod is not an isolated example. 

A few years ago a political cartoon depicted a nativity scene, we’re all familiar with them. The person setting up the scene placed two toy tanks on each side. When questioned why, he said it through it made the scene look more realistic. 

In 2001, after the twin towers fell, a Palestinian bishop in Jerusalem, and we tend to forget many Palestinians are Christians, wrote in his Christmas message, “Herod the king was eager to protect his power… He thought violence was the only way to security. Our world has many Herod’s, who think they can protect their nations and interest by violence, or change the world using arms, or remain in power by killing others, and achieve security with the Cobra, the Apache, or the F16.”^[3]

Although we shouldn’t justify Herod, we might understand how Herod felt when he discovered through the wisemen a new king was on his way. It troubled Herod. 

A few years ago, there was a commercial for the Wall Street Journal. A woman in a suit, obviously an executive, and a skater dude who worked in the mail room entered an elevator. There were two other men in suits in the back. As they rode up, the woman noticed the skater dude reading the Journal. Impressed, she told him they were hiring a new vice president of a particular operation and gave him her card as she got off the elevator. As the two men continued riding the elevator up, one looked like he’d seen a ghost. The other guy says, “Hey, isn’t that your position.” The news of the wisemen must have made Herod feel like that guy. 

Even though the baby in Bethlehem is a long way from being a threat, Herod’s paranoid gets the best of him. But this wasn’t the first time. He had one of his own sons killed. He also killed a wife and a brother-in-law, whom he considered threats. Emperor Augustus supposedly remarked it was safer to be Herod’s pig than his son. At least a pig stood a chance.^[4]

Compounding Herod’s paranoia was his self-imposed isolation. He boxed himself off. Like Stalin, he killed all who threatened him, whether the threat was real or imagined. Kind of like Stalin who wasn’t Russian, but Georgian, Herod was only nominally Jewish.^[5] Herod, like Stalin and many horrific figures in human history, didn’t have the best interest of his people at heart. They looked out for themselves. 

Herod didn’t seem to understand the faithful had been waiting for the Messiah for centuries. He hadn’t gone to the synagogue school to learn the prophecies, or if he did, he didn’t pay attention. He couldn’t comprehend the joy in the news of the wisemen. Herod wants to maintain his position of authority and doesn’t feel the need for God or anyone else, although he’d be in a heap of trouble without the Roman military. He’s an isolated man unable to rejoice at anything but his own doing. That’s why he is so troubled. 

With the news of the birth of a king, Herod feels as if a knife has been thrust into his back. And, when we find ourselves in some situations, our survival instincts kick in. If we’re not careful, we’ll make a bad situation even worse. 

The late Rabbi Edwin Friedman, a well-known psychologist and family counselor, wrote about how humans, when threaten, revert to a “reptilian mode of thinking.” He labeled such behavior as “reptilian regression.”^[6]

If you think about it, reptiles are not playful. They don’t have a nurturing relationship. Many even eat their own. Their only concern is survival, and they will do whatever it takes to continue living. This survival instinct has been preprogramed into our brains. Generally, we operate at a higher level, but when really scared, we regress back to the “survival of the fittest” mentality. This happened to Herod. He hears of a new king and is so afraid of being overthrown, he orders the killing of the infants.

It’s hard to have sympathy for Herod, along with Hitler, Pol Pot, Stalin, Putin, and others throughout history who take evil to a new level. Yet, we must realize in our own small ways, we too act out of self-interest. 

Hopefully, none of us would stoop to murder. And when someone in our society stoops so low, they can be quickly stopped because we don’t have the power someone like Herod had in the first century. But we do act in other harmful ways. Sin remains close at hand, especially when we feel threatened. Satan always lurks nearby, ready to offer us a helping hand so we might protect our self-interest. 

Yet, even Herod is not absolute. He’s a pawn in a larger game of chess. He allows himself and his power to be used in a way to attempt the destruction of the one hope the world has to reconcile with God. 

Of course, this passage really isn’t about Herod. He’s just a minor character in a larger drama which takes place. 

The passage is really about God’s providence. It’s about God protecting and guiding his own Son so the world might be reconciled with the creator.  Using angels within dreams, God communicates the urgency for Joseph to take his wife and son and flee to Egypt. There, beyond the tentacles of Herod, Jesus remains safe.  And once Herod dies, Joseph learns it’ssafe to return to his homeland.

In our story this morning, Joseph has no choice but to trust God. He’s a refugee, one without status, with a wife and child to for whom to care. He’s all alone in the world and has only God to trust. Herod, on the other hand, can attempt to control his destiny and so he takes things into his own hands. And we see where that got him. Satan had a field day. 

We should use those times we feel betrayed as opportunities to deepen our trust in God, not as an occasion to strike back. During such times when we are torn in conflict, we should remember that vengeance belongs to God. Whenever we take God’s vengeance into our hands, innocent people get hurt. 

In his book, The Peacemaker A Biblical Guide to Resolving Personal Conflict, Ken Sande reminds his readers that whenever we experience conflict, which often arise from betrayal, we should look at it as an opportunity to glorify God.^[7] We have a choice. We can show our love, respect, and trust in God. 

Through our actions, we can show others how we rest in God’s grace and peace. Or we can be like Herod and take matters into our own hands, and play second fiddle to the devil. 

Both Joseph and Herod felt betrayed. Joseph’s betrayal came from his government, one which did not look out for its people. Yet, he trusted God. Herod felt betrayed because an infant destined to be greater than he and all human kings. Instead of trusting God, Herod took matters into his own hands and became Satan’s pawn. There are many times in our lives in which we feel as if we’ve betrayed. How do we respond? Do we use such opportunities to learn to trust God’s providence, like Joseph? I hope so, for when we think about it, the alternative causes more destruction. Amen. 

Parts of this sermon was taken from a sermon I preached in December 2001.

---

^[1] Malcolm Guite, Waiting on the Word: A Poem a Day for Advent, Christmas and Epiphany (Norwich, UK: Canterbury Press, 2015), 115.

^[2] Guite, 115, “Refugee.” 

^[3] Bishop Munib A. Younan, Christmas Message 2001, from the internet and used in a sermon of mine on December 30, 2001. 

^[4] Kenneth E. Bailey, “Incarnation and the Slaughter of the Innocents,” The Presbyterian Outlook, 24-31 December 2001.

^[5] I was reminded of Stalin’s similarities after reading Simon Sebag Montefiore, Stalin: The Court of the Red Tsar (New York: Knopf, 2004). 

^[6] Edwin H. Friedman, Friedman Fables (New York: Guilford Press, 1990), 155. 

^[7] Ken Sande, The Peacemaker: A Biblical Guide to Resolving Personal Conflict  (1990, Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1997).