Christmas in a Violent Age

It’s the part of the Christmas story that’s usually put to the side. Almost an afterthought — and certainly never included in the kids’ Christmas pageant — is what was often depicted in Renaissance paintings as “the slaughter of the innocents.” Matthew recounts it in his gospel:

“Then Herod, when he saw that he had been tricked by the wise men, became furious, and he sent and killed all the male children in Bethlehem and in all that region who were two years old or under, according to the time that he had ascertained from the wise men. Then was fulfilled what was spoken by the prophet Jeremiah:

‘A voice was heard in Ramah, weeping and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children; she refused to be comforted, because they are no more.’” (Matthew 2:16–18, ESV)

Christmas songs like “Away in a Manger” bring to mind images of a non-crying baby laying down his sweet head, as cattle low nearby. The presence of cattle in the nativity narrative is only artistic speculation, but the presence of a very real and a very near violence is certain.

Over two millennia later, it seems like the violence is only getting worse. Just think about the past year. From the most recent incident of a terrorist driving a car into a crowded Christmas market in Germany, to the assassination attempts on Donald Trump, to the assassination of a CEO, to war in Israel and Ukraine, mass murders at American schools and in elderly communities in Haiti, to a million unborn children in the U.S. alone killed by abortion, to the bodily mutilation of children in the name of trans identity, it all seems like it’s coming toward us at an unparalleled rate.

Yet Herod’s slaughter of the innocents — collateral in an attempt to kill the Messiah — shows us that such violence is nothing new. It’s endemic to human behavior, going all the way back to Cain’s murder of his brother Abel and culminating with the cross, where the enemies of Jesus seemingly finish what Herod started three decades before.

Violence seems to follow humans wherever we go. It’s never convenient, always disruptive, and never fails to hurt more than its initial target. Jesus himself said, “From the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven has suffered violence, and the violent take it by force.” In an attempt to dislodge, derail, and disrupt, the enemies of God level violence against his people, his movement, and his ways.

As his people, followers of Jesus are no less immune to the violence leveled at him. Since the time of Christ, his followers have experienced persecution, and it’s still going on in the world today to various degrees. In the logic of the world, to follow a God who is followed by so much violence makes little sense. And it makes even less sense for him to become incarnate as a person most vulnerable — a baby — to violence. Jesus was laid in a manger, not a fortress. He was born to a young virgin engaged to a carpenter, not to people considered powerful in the eyes of the world.

Herod’s decree was sweeping — with a death sentence for all male children two years old and younger, none could escape. But God’s provision of protection for Jesus prior to Herod’s decree shows us that even a malevolent, violent world cannot thwart the plan of God to put violence to death. The call by an angel to Joseph to move his family to Egypt — where his people escaped from slavery and violence from the armies of Pharoah long before — must have seemed nonsensical. Yet Joseph’s obedience kept his adopted son from Herod’s seemingly foolproof massacre.

Jesus escaped murder by a king as an infant so that he as an adult might be murdered as King of Kings. The second verse of William Chatterton Dix’s 1865 carol, “What Child Is This?” makes this point in especially poignant way:

“Why lies He in such mean estate
Where ox and ass are feeding?
Good Christian, fear: for sinners here
The silent Word is pleading.
Nails, spear shall pierce him through,
The Cross be borne for me, for you;
Hail, hail the Word Made Flesh,
The babe, the son of Mary!”

The peaceful baby lying in a manger means little to us if he doesn’t grow into the man, crucified on the cross for our sins, buried in the grave, and risen from the dead. Only the Jesus who suffered violence for us will save us. “Nails, spear shall pierce him through, the cross be borne for me, for you.” For he himself is our peace. May he save us in this violent age.

AUTHOR

Jared Bridges

Jared Bridges is editor-in-chief of The Washington Stand.

RELATED ARTICLE: Remembering Veterans and the ‘Value of Freedom’ This Christmas

RELATED PODCAST: A Historical Look at the First Christmas with Dr. Craig Evans

RELATED VIDEO: Benjamin Netanyahu: “My dear Christian friends.”

EDITORS NOTE: This Washington Stand column is republished with permission. All rights reserved. ©2024 Family Research Council.

The Washington Stand is Family Research Council’s outlet for news and commentary from a biblical worldview. The Washington Stand is based in Washington, D.C. and is published by FRC, whose mission is to advance faith, family, and freedom in public policy and the culture from a biblical worldview. We invite you to stand with us by partnering with FRC.