Troubling the Powers of Worldliness: Sunday Reflection

This morning’s Gospel reading is Matthew 2:1–12:

When Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, in the days of King Herod, behold, magi from the east arrived in Jerusalem, saying, “Where is the newborn king of the Jews? We saw his star at its rising and have come to do him homage.” When King Herod heard this, he was greatly troubled, and all Jerusalem with him. Assembling all the chief priests and the scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Christ was to be born. They said to him, “In Bethlehem of Judea, for thus it has been written through the prophet:

And you, Bethlehem, land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; since from you shall come a ruler, who is to shepherd my people Israel.”

Then Herod called the magi secretly and ascertained from them the time of the star’s appearance. He sent them to Bethlehem and said, “Go and search diligently for the child. When you have found him, bring me word, that I too may go and do him homage.” After their audience with the king they set out. And behold, the star that they had seen at its rising preceded them, until it came and stopped over the place where the child was. They were overjoyed at seeing the star, and on entering the house they saw the child with Mary his mother. They prostrated themselves and did him homage. Then they opened their treasures and offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they departed for their country by another way.

Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. But sometimes, a false sense of power can become even more destructive — and even more corrupt, in its way.

That wisdom comes through the second chapter of Matthew’s Gospel, in which we find Herod “greatly troubled” by the signs he has seen and of which he’d been informed. Herod’s position was hardly absolute at this time, although he had worked hard to make it so. Herod had risen through the Roman occupation to ever higher positions of power, making his mark by brutally exacting taxes for Rome in Galilee and later in Judea. 

Later, Herod would take advantage of a rift within the Hasmonean monarchy to seize Jerusalem from his competitors under the aegis of Rome. The Senate declared him “King of the Jews,” a title that Herod would defend — brutally. Herod later would murder members of his own family to keep power concentrated in his hands.

Herod had fought his entire life to seize as much worldly power as possible, but as a client of Rome, he could never truly feel secure in that position. In the first place, Herod would only remain king as long as he kept the peace as well as the tax revenues flowing to Rome, and those two goals were in conflict. He managed to alienate the Judeans through both his policies and his dissolute lifestyle, which would eventually cause his excruciating death. His obsession with power and position, not to mention his fatal illness, drove him to madness — but a certain kind of madness with a purpose, as Matthew’s narrative reveals to us.

In this context, the reaction of Herod to the Magi and the prophecies would surprise no one. To the extent that Herod considered a transfer of power, he intended to have his sons succeed him (which the Romans eventually enabled, for a while). The already-restive Judeans looked to the Lord for salvation, which probably troubled Herod not at all until the signs and portents appeared. When the Magi arrived, however, an already paranoid and probably sickened Herod saw it as a potential threat — in the sense of a potential revolt against his toady monarchy. 

Did Herod ever consider that the Lord had truly entered into human history to provide salvation? It seems doubtful that Herod even cared about such matters. He had built the Second Temple for political purposes, which largely didn’t succeed, rather than out of fervor for the Lord. Herod focused on worldly power, not in cooperation with the power of the Lord, and paid the price for that choice in some ugly ways.

And yet, even in that moment, Herod had been given a choice. Having seen the signs and receiving the knowledge of their meaning, Herod could have chosen to put his power into cooperation with the will of the Lord. The Magi presented that opportunity for salvation and for redemption, and perhaps even greatness in service to the Messiah, even after a lifetime of sin, corruption, and evil. As depraved as Herod was, the Lord called to him one more time to repent, atone, and choose salvation over worldly power and ambition. 

This Gospel passage shows us how we often miss the point when confronted by this same decision. Even when we have our own teachers (which is what Magi means) to guide us through these signs, we often disregard them to focus on our own ambitions. Perhaps we too at times feel as though simply offering some signs of fealty is enough; the Temple would be an extreme example of that impulse. But the Second Temple only lasted 70 years, as Herod’s former patrons in Rome would sack and destroy it when the Judeans rebelled in 66 AD, a rebellion that Herod and his sons helped create in their exercise of worldly power. The choice to reject the Lord lasts forever.

It is for this reason that Christ comes to rescue us from our own addiction to sin and worldly ambition. As Isaiah prophesies in our first reading, we walk in darkness, but Christ comes to bring light to all who yearn for it. “See, darkness covers the earth, and thick clouds cover the peoples; but upon you the LORD shines, and over you appears his glory,” Isaiah preaches. “Nations shall walk by your light, and kings by your shining radiance.”

That light first came to us as a sign in the heavens — the Star of Bethlehem, by whose light the Magi found Jesus, and by whose light they also recognized the darkness of Herod. Those who walk in the light can see and grasp the difference, and see how the love of the darkness can warp and corrupt those who gain power through it. That power is just an illusion, however, as Herod and his sons discovered, while the light of the Lord remains true and calls us to true love and real power in eternity. 

This is why the story of the Magi is so compelling even to this day. The wise recognize their insufficiency and seek the Lord through His light, while the powerful see the light as a threat and foolishly rail against it. Which shall we choose for ourselves?

Previous reflections on these readings:

The front page image is “The Magi Before Herod” by Matteo di Giovanni, c. 1490. On display at the Fine Arts Museum in San Francisco. Via Wikimedia Commons.

“Sunday Reflection” is a regular feature, looking at the specific readings used in today’s Mass in Catholic parishes around the world. The reflection represents only my own point of view, intended to help prepare myself for the Lord’s day and perhaps spark a meaningful discussion. Previous Sunday Reflections from the main page can be found here.