Matthew 2.1-12: Emperor, King, Murderer

No one names their child "Herod" anymore. And not just "anymore." Who would want their child associated with Herod? Herod's character is not one that most parents would want their child to emulate. The Epiphany text (Matthew 2:1-12) here shows Herod as a paranoid, power-hungry...scared...king who will stop at nothing to retain his power and position. He is more than willing to commit murder. The gospel tells of the massacre of the innocents at Bethlehem, but Herod the Great also murdered his second wife, her two sons, her brother, her grandfather, and her mother. If Herod was willing to kill so many of his own family, we have no doubt he could have killed children he never knew or saw.

Does that evil, cruel part of his personality show on his face as artists depicted him? Which of the faces below is the face of Herod the Great?

Did the artist give you a clue? Is there something in one or more of these faces that is an external clue to the internal corruption and immorality of the person seated on that throne?

Modern depictions of the visit of the Magi to Herod's court may be more likely to show Herod in some kind of aggressive body posture with an angry expression on his face. Scripture describes him as sneaky and manipulative, trying to deceive the magi with promises of plans to worship the newborn king. It was only the warning of the angel that sent the magi home by another way. They seemingly would have had no clue otherwise.

That's often the way it is, I think. The external appearance is pleasing, reliable, amiable, and sympathetic when the truth of the person is unethical, self-centered, even evil. Herod is definitely the villain of this story, but his ability to present a deceitful appearance to the world is much more common and close to home than we'd like to admit. There may be a little Herod in us.

Above far left:  Edward II Receives the Crown (detail). c. 1307-1327. British Library: Royal MS 20 A II, fol 10. Above center left: Magi Questioned by Herod (detail). 14th century. Venice: San Marco. Above center right: Three Kings Before Herod (detail). St. Alban's Psalter. 1121-1146. Hildesheim: Dombibliothek. Above far right: Portrait of Charles the Bald (detail). Bible of San Paolo fuori le Mura. c. 870. Rome: San Paolo fuori le Mura.

For additional thoughts on Epiphany, click here.

Matthew 2.13-23: Rachel Continues to Weep

The story of the massacre of the innocents (Matthew 2:13-23...Christmas 1A) is a believable story. It is believable because what human beings are capable of doing (and are willing to do) to one another continues to mystify us as well as make us sad. Matthew's gospel quotes Jeremiah, which remembers Rachel, wife of Jacob (later called Israel), weeping for her children.

How many times is that idea re-enacted in the world? German artist Kathe Kollwitz not only saw her countrywomen offering their laments, she herself lamented. Kollwitz, who was the first female professor at the Prussian Academy, was forced to resign her faculty position when the Nazis rose to power. She was also forbidden to exhibit her art. The artist's son was killed in World War I, and a grandson was killed in World War II. She understood the heartache of both individual and collective Rachels.

Kollwitz created a print that captures the gutwrenching grief of every woman who weeps for their/her children. The print (below) is titled "Mother with Dead Child." Kollwitz created the work in 1903, long before the advent of WWI, so it is not specifically autobiographical nor is it only a truth in war. Whatever has happened, and it really doesn't matter what that is, the mother's desperate grief and continued focus on her child is clearly communicated in the composition. The mother's arms encircle her child, drawing the viewer to the place where the two faces meet. There is no pleasant landscape or other background distractions. We are forced to acknowledge this mother's loss.

 Kathe Kollwitz. Frau mit Totem Kind (Woman with dead child) 1903, 7th state, soft-ground etching and engraving with green and gold wash. 

http://www.britishmuseum.org/research/collection_online/collection_object_details/collection_image_gallery.aspx?assetId=291822001&objectId=684802&partId=1

It would be nice if each time this story cycles through the lectionary, it is the case that fewer people know the story or can identify with its feelings. Unfortunately we see more and more women (and men!) mourning for their children. We see raw emotion as mothers call for justice for their children. This is not the overly sentimental mother and child that we often see in the Christmas season. This is real. And all too believable.

For additional thoughts on Matthew 2:13-23, click here.

Luke 13.31-35: Get the Picture?

Jesus makes, well, not a joke because there's nothing funny about it. But Jesus, speaking two thousand years ago reminds us that some things never change. In the gospel reading for Lent 2C (Luke 13:31-35) Jesus uses symbols in a way that rings familiarly in ears today. He puts a fox in the hen house.

"You tell that fox for me..." Jesus says. Herod (Herod Antipas to be specific) is the fox. Jesus continues that he has long wanted to gather the people of Jerusalem together "as a hen gathers her brood under her wings." Fox. Hen.

The pictures tell the story. Neither of the first two works here are "religious" works and yet when we see them through the lens of the gospel reading, it is clear that Jesus fully understood his animal symbols as individuals and in relation to one another.

In the top picture a fox sneaks into the picture space in the lower left corner, biting down on the hindquarters of an unsuspecting hen in its jaws. [Christian Luycks. Farmyard Scene with Fox Attaching Bantams. c. 1645. Private collection.]

The bottom picture is more graphic. Jean-Baptiste Huet's Fox in a Chicken Yard [1766. San Francisco: deYoung/Legion of Honor Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco. http://art.famsf.org/jean-baptiste-marie-huet-elder/fox-chicken-yard-50558] shows a fox that is the center of the carnage, not sneaking in from the side. The fox devours one of the chickens and bares its teeth at a bird attempting to distract the fox and perhaps save the chicken. Young chicks scurry out from under the chicken's wings, trying to get away. At the right are three eggs, cracked open with both the yolks and whites leaking onto the ground.

Herod Antipas fits the caricature very well. The son of Herod I (the Great), Antipas is the ruler reproached by John the Baptist for his marriage to his sister-in-law. Antipas built the city of Tiberias on the shore of the Sea of Galilee and was the official to whom Jesus was sent in the course of his arrest, interrogation and crucifixion.

It is this same Herod who ordered the children of Bethlehem killed after the visit of the magi to his court. Frightened at the prospect of a King of the Jews being born, he resolved that it should not happen. As the fox does in Huet's picture, Herod, too, made sure to destroy future generations. Euan Uglow's rendition of the Massacre of the Innocents is modeled on an earlier work by Poussin [1979-1981. Private collection, UK].

Jesus had it right. Herod was a fox in the henhouse.

For thoughts on Genesis 15:1-18, click here.