The Second Sunday after Christmas - January 4, 2026

I think today’s gospel should have come with a spoiler alert. So here it is. Are you ready? 

Spoiler Alert: Christmas happens in the real world; not in the candlelight of a silent night, and not away in a manger. 

Here’s why I say that:

• The little Lord Jesus [can’t risk being] asleep on the hay. Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him. 

• Get up, the angel warns Joseph in a dream, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt. The little Lord Jesus [will have no place to lay] down his sweet head.

• And I can’t image that in this nightmare little Lord Jesus no crying he makes. I can, however, imagine Mary and Joseph scared and desperate, and Jesus crying. That’s real.

Murder of the Bethlehem children. That’s how my Bible, the Common English Bible, labels this Sunday’s gospel lesson. Hardly a subject for a Christmas card. Only about a week after our heart-felt celebration of Jesus birth, Matthew gives us quite a jolt. Our sweet, sometimes sentimental celebration of the Nativity is brought to a grinding halt this Sunday by the gospel. The events narrated by Matthew on this Sunday, the Second Sunday of Christmas, are a long way from the angel songs, the babe and his adoring parents at the manger.

Today’s gospel spoils whatever sentimental or romantic notions we might have about Christmas. It connects us to the tears of children, the moans of adults, and the pain of the world. I’m not trying to ruin Christmas for you but to make it more real, relevant, and imperative.

Most of us know the Christmas story primarily through Luke’s account of the gospel. As I mentioned last Sunday, he tells us who is there and what is happening. John takes us a bit deeper and describes what it all means. Matthew, however, is describing the world, the context, in which all of this is taking place. It’s the world of King Herod.

In our celebrations of Christmas, as we sang beloved Christmas carols, I don’t recall that we sang a single song that found a way to say what Matthew says to us today: From the very first, but after his birth, Jesus caused political trouble and he was, from the first, resisted by the powerful. How do those in power keep their power? Violence. How does a liberation group attempt to get power from an established nation? Violence. How does an established nation protect itself from the attacks of a liberation group? Violence.

Today’s gospel is the part of the Christmas story we often forget, turn away from, and don’t talk about. Have you ever seen a Christmas card depicting King Herod? Me either. And who would want their child or grandchild to play King Herod in the children’s Christmas pageant?

It’s the part of the story that describes the tyranny, abuse of power, cruelty, and violence of the world into which Jesus is born. And it’s personified by King Herod.

This Christmas Child is a threat to Herod’s power, security, and authority. His kingdom is at risk and he is scared, angry, and violent. So much so that he is about to search for the child, to destroy him. Other children will be acceptable collateral damage, as they often are today.

The baby Jesus is taken by his parents to Egypt for safekeeping. Can you imagine bundling up a newborn and making the trek all the way from Judea into a foreign country, where people speak strange languages, and have different customs and different ways? You can if you have been a refugee like Mary, Joseph, and the babe.

Unfortunately, not much has changed since that first Christmas. The Herods of this world are still displacing people and destroying lives. And some parents are still risking everything for the life of their child. 

A few years ago a woman told me she had received a Christmas card with the usual greetings and wishes but the sender also included a wish that the New Year would be migrant free. I thought to myself, Wasn’t Jesus a border crossing migrant baby? What if that first Christmas had been migrant free? What if Herod had succeeded? Where would we be now?

Today, I wonder why the sender didn’t wish for a New Year that is Herod free. But once again it’s not. Terrorism, violence and war  in Australia, Brown University, Gaza, Ukraine just before Christmas proved that. 

Herod and all he represents are as much a part of Christmas as are Mary and Joseph, singing angels, adoring shepherds, gift-bearing wise men, light shining in the darkness, grace upon grace, and the Word becoming flesh and living among us. 

Now we’re post-Christmas. We’re headed back to the office next week. School is not far behind. And the news headlines will not be about singers of carols, gone to entertain the folks at the nursing home or the toy collection for the kids who are economically disadvantaged. The news will be about refuges, people fleeing the wrath of contemporary Herods. There’ll be pictures on the news with trigger warnings: Warning, we are about to show you some disturbing images of children killed in the collapse of a bombed school in Ukraine.

And Matthew is saying, that’s the world Christ was born into, the world he came to save.

Do you see now why I said that today’s gospel should have come with a spoiler alert? It fact checks our Christmas illusions. It’s painful. And that pain is as real and present today as it was in Jesus’ day. 

I’d much rather sing about the Silent Night when all is calm, all is bright. But is it really? Maybe we should be singing We shall overcome as a Christmas hymn instead. Isn’t that really the good news of great joy the angel proclaims to the shepherds? And isn’t that really why this Child is such a threat to Herod? 

Herod gets it. He’s right to be afraid. This Child’s birth is the start of a revolution. But it’s not a revolution won by money, political influence, military might, or any of our usual understandings of power. It is a revolution won by a change of heart. 

So let me ask you this. What is it we need to overcome? What is this Child asking you to overcome? What is he asking the Big Bend and the United States to overcome? 

Is it fear of others, those who are different, that needs overcoming? Is it anger or resentment? Guilt or shame? The need to be right or in control? Revenge? Conflict? Is it estrangement from another? Is it despair, indifference, or self-centeredness? Is it cruelty and meanness? Is it violence against ourselves, another, the environment. A lack of compassion? Maybe it’s privilege, power, and position. Maybe it’s our refusal to “strive for justice and peace among all people.”

Do we need to overcome pride, partisanship, Christian nationalism, triumphalism? Maybe it’s certainty or close mindedness. Maybe we need to overcome the exclusion and oppression of others. Surely prejudice, bias, and racism should be on the to overcome list. What about poverty and economic exploitation? How about judging and blaming? Maybe it’s all the ways we horribilize  others and fail to respect the dignity of every human being.

These and a thousand other things like them describe Herod’s world and, perhaps, yours and mine. Herod is real in each of our lives, our city, our country. Every time we deny, ignore, excuse, or are complicit with Herod, we are saying that we have no need of or room in our lives for this Child who overcomes. That’s not who I want to be or how I want to live. What about you? 

This hasn’t been an easy sermon to preach. I suppose it hasn’t been an easy one to hear. And if it’s disturbing you; good. It’s also disturbing me. It needs to be.  We need to all be disturbed by and uncomfortable with the ways of Herod.

I know this is a different take on Christmas and probably not what you are used to. And maybe you don’t want to hear it. I’m really not trying to provoke or upset anyone. But we need a Christmas as real as Herod. I no longer want to settle for just a Merry Christmas and I hope you don’t either.   

We need something more than and beyond a Merry Christmas. We need an Overcoming Christmas. That’s my wish and prayer for you, myself, and the world – that we would celebrate, live, support, and participate in an Overcoming Christmas. 

I wonder what an Overcoming Christmas looks like and means in your life today. What is it asking of you? What needs overcoming in this new year?

O come all ye faithful, but do more than just adore. Overcome.