By The Rev. Frances Drolet-Smith, Oblate, SSJD
In Matthew’s account of the Epiphany, there are two responses to the arrival of a baby born in a manger: fear and joy. King Herod meets the news with fear, which quickly turns into a murderous rage when all the children in and around Bethlehem aged two and under are slaughtered, simply to eliminate the threat to his power. On the other hand, the Sages who had been watching the skies for a sign and had come to pay this child homage, are overwhelmed with joy. In this one story, Herod’s campaign of terror through violent force meets the unstoppable power of the love of God. Where fear mixes with maniacal power, there will be bloodshed.
The Herods of this world, and their fear-driven campaigns of terror, are ever with us. On January 6th, a day we keep as holy, 2,000 federal agents were deployed to the Minneapolis area in a sweeping crackdown on migrants. The following day, a 37-year-old woman, Renee Nicole Good, was shot and killed by one of those agents.
Sadly, such violence will continue so long as raids are mustered in cities seen to oppose the current US administration. There was a time when such a headline could not be imagined – unthinkable in a modern democracy. And because it is not just a headline, but rather, in fact, well-documented history, it seems imperative to note that there have been at least 24 shootings by these largely untrained immigration agents since January of last year, 6 of which have resulted in deaths.
Meanwhile in Gaza, the State of Israel recently banned over 30 humanitarian organizations working in Gaza — including Doctors Without Borders. In Kyiv, and throughout Ukraine, the bombing of innocents continue. In Greenland people fear the invasion that has already come to Venezuela. You may well wonder: has the world gone mad??
Shane Claibourne writes, “There is no defense of this. Cruelty is the point. Killing children and starving families is evil, no matter what flag you wrap it in. Collective punishment is wrong. Every person is made in the image of God.”
This is not simply a political crisis. It is a spiritual one. Deon Johnson, Episcopal Bishop of Missouri, in a letter to his diocese, writes: “I confess that I do not have easy answers for how to heal what feels like a tearing of the fabric of our common life. But I do know this: silence in the face of injustice is not an option for the Church.” Though addressed to people in his diocese, his exhortation speaks to all of us: “pray fervently, grieve honestly, act non-violently, and advocate persistently for policies and practices that protect life rather than endanger it.” He then urges leaders at every level “to choose restraint over retribution, care over coercion, and justice rooted in mercy rather than vengeance.”
Another Episcopal Bishop, Craig Loya of Minnesota, reminds his beleaguered flock: “As people of the Epiphany, our call is to stand in the midst of a world where Herod continues to flex and posture, not in outrage or with reciprocal violence, but gazing in wonder and expectation for the joyful manifestation of Jesus wherever the poor, the outsider, the weak, and the oppressed are to be found. As people of the Epiphany, in the midst of a world where cruelty tries to pose as power, we continue to rejoice in the assurance that absolute and final power resides in poor and crucified Jesus, who alone is the true king. Our Epiphany joy is not some naive and shallow notion that everything will be ok, when everything is so obviously not ok. Our Epiphany joy is the deep, defiant, revolutionary hope we have in the assurance that love is the most powerful force in the universe. Like the wise ones searching for Bethlehem, we wait, we watch, we follow where love leads, knowing that only God’s action in the world can finally and fully heal all that the lust for a false and hollow power had broken down, world without end.”
Today we remember the Holy Innocents — children whose lives were cut short by fear and violence. This day holds sorrow alongside the Christmas story, reminding us that God enters a world where grief is real and love is urgently needed. We trust that God gathers every child into eternal care and calls us to protect, cherish, and stand with the vulnerable. Even here, the Light shines — not denying the pain or the fear, but holding them with compassion.
Above all else, let us remember that from the manger to the cross, powerful people were bent on destroying Jesus. They all failed. The power of God is beyond us all. And thank God for that. Amen.