Matthew 2:1-18; Revelation 14:1-5; Jeremiah 31:15-17
In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.
There will be wars and rumors of wars in the Last Days. That has been true in every age. Wars are not only waged by emperors and kings, presidents and dictators. There are drug wars and gang wars. There are cultural conflicts, political battles, and personal wars waged in hearts, homes, and hospital rooms. And in all these conflicts, there are always casualties beyond the battlefield: children, the elderly, the poor, the unborn, and many simply caught in the crossfire.
But Scripture teaches that these are not many separate wars. There is, finally, one war: the ancient war between God and Satan. And because of our sin, we are not merely caught in it, we are often complicit. For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. There are no holy innocents by nature. And yet, there are those who suffer and die having done no actual sin of their own, who nevertheless die on account of Christ.
The story of the Holy Innocents still sounds like breaking news. Every day brings images of violence: schools on lockdown, communities shaken, families shattered. The line between collateral damage and direct attack grows thin. There is truly a war going on, one that began before the creation of mankind. Our present conflicts are only its skirmishes. If we do not lift our eyes to see this, we will be left with only fear and hand-wringing as the headlines keep coming. But God would lift our eyes.
Herod was evil, paranoid, murderous. But that is not ultimately why the boys of Bethlehem died. They died because Satan wanted the Christ dead, and he would kill anyone necessary to stop Him. Whatever their age, those children were sons of Adam, as are we. They bore the stain of original sin. The wages of sin is death, period.
And yet, in Herod we see the face of the true enemy. It is overkill. Satan sees every human being as expendable. To him, you are not even collateral. Collateral implies value. Satan sees you only as fuel for his hatred, hatred of God, and therefore hatred of you. He does not want your worship. He wants you ruined, because he is ruined. He wants you in the outer darkness with him, where Jesus says there is only weeping and gnashing of teeth.
Today we remember those little ones of Bethlehem, and we also remember that the world has not changed as much as we wish it had. Even here in Iowa, where fields stretch wide and neighborhoods seem peaceful, the spiritual war still rages. We may not hear air raid sirens, but we know tears. We see lives unravel through addiction, abuse, and despair. We see broken homes, children caught between warring parents, young people losing hope, and funerals that come too often and too soon. In a town like ours, grief often comes quietly. Meals are dropped off. Neighbors whisper. We put on brave faces in the grocery store aisle. And still Rachel weeps for her children.
We mourn the loss of unborn children in our own state and nation, not by decree of a king, but by decisions made in fear, pressure, confusion, and heartbreak. We lament for them, and for their mothers and fathers. We ask God to make His Church a refuge and not a courtroom. A place where the frightened find courage, the ashamed find grace, the repentant find forgiveness, and where families are supported before and after birth. Christ does not despise the brokenhearted. He gathers them.
And the voice of Rachel is heard here in other ways: in hospital waiting rooms, in mental health crises, in the silence after a chair is suddenly empty at the table. The world may not notice, but God does. And the Church must, too. The serpent still lies here in our midst. He whispers to the lonely, the anxious, the ashamed: “You are alone. You are abandoned.” But that is a lie.
Yes, the war is brutal. Yes, it is bloody. Yes, it appears we are losing. But take heart: we are not as those who have no hope. The victory is already won by our Lord. What we endure now are the last, desperate skirmishes of a defeated enemy. At the cross, Christ crushed the serpent’s head. His resurrection and ascension rang out across heaven, earth, and under the earth: The war is over. The Christ has conquered.
Satan now fights like a retreating tyrant. He burns and destroys because he hates. His weapons are lies and despair aimed at your faith. When tragedy strikes or headlines horrify, he whispers, “See? God has lost. You are alone.” But he lies because he knows the truth: his time is short.
Jesus lives. The victory’s won. Nothing can snatch you from His hand. Nothing can separate you from the love of God in Christ Jesus. He works all things, even the wicked things, for good for those who love Him.
Herod’s rage drove the Holy Family to Egypt, but Scripture was fulfilled. They returned to Galilee, but Scripture was fulfilled. The Son of God was handed over to death, but Scripture was fulfilled. Satan meant it for evil. God meant it for good.
Jesus is the one true Holy Innocent. In His death, He destroyed sin, death, and hell. In His resurrection, He opened the way of life. What Satan meant for evil, God means for salvation.
So, hear the promise: “Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on.” “These are the ones coming out of the great tribulation; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.”
In Holy Baptism, that is already you. You have died and been raised with Christ. Your life is hidden with Him. When your body dies, your soul will be with the Lord, awaiting the resurrection of the body. And on that day, Jeremiah says it, “there is hope for your future.” Every eye will see. Every tongue will confess. And God the Father will be glorified: Jesus Christ is Lord.
Until that day, the Church and the Spirit pray, “Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly.” And the Lord answers: “Do not be afraid. Watch. I am coming soon.”
In the + Name of Jesus. Amen.
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