HEROD THE GREAT

HEROD THE GREAT Matthew 2 With grateful acknowledgement of these sources of direction and inspiration: the Holy Spirit; the Word of God; A.B. du Toit, The New Testament Milieu; Albert Edersheim, The Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah; The New Bible Atlas, Inter-Varsity Press; The New Bible Dictionary, Inter-Varsity Press; Haddon Robinson, Herod December 12, 2004 Given by: Pastor Rich Bersett [Index of Past Messages] Greetings! My name is Herod—Herod the Great—King of Judea, servant of his Excellency, Caesar of Rome. I am happy to be here with you. Actually I’m happy to be anywhere, considering “that place” where I am now forced to live forever. I served in the territory of Judea as did my father before me, and my son after me. I was king in the days just before the common calendar. In my opinion I was a good king—pleasing both Rome and my constituents—even though the Jews of my territory didn’t like me and I got very little respect from them. I never did understand their collective attitude, with all that I did for them. After all, I rebuilt their Temple for them. It shouldn’t have bothered them that I insisted it be called Herod’s Temple. All I wanted was a little recognition, and a place of honor in the history books. Those people were such ingrates! Why, I even married a Jewish lady, so I could identify with them. Yes, she was my tenth wife, and I did eventually have to have her and her parents killed, but I made an effort! It’s not my fault her brother got all tangled up in that political rebellion. I told Mariamme it was just a coincidence he was found dead two days after I heard about it. Hey, anybody can drown in his bathtub! So she gets all steamed up, starts making accusations, and her parents get involved—well, you can only put up with so much when you’re the king. Besides, she wasn’t the only wife I had to snuff out. Where I live now it’s all part of the sentence. In “that place” we have to view all that we did in life, both good and bad. It eats at me night and day. I always wanted to make a name for myself—to be remembered. And now, I only have the dubious honor of being remembered as “the king who tried to kill Jesus.” Every year about this time, all over the world, snot-nosed little kids dress up in their father’s old bathrobe and play the part of “mean old King Herod.” And by the way, it’s Herod the Great, not Harold the Grape! Fame isn’t what I thought it would be. I was always trying to strike the balance between Rome and the Jews, squashing rebellions, holding off the army from coming in a overrunning Palestine. And they’re all so funny about whose land it is—I understand things haven’t changed much in two millennia. {Incidentally, I met Yasser Arafat the other day when he arrived at “that place.” Now there’s a king—he knew how to keep things good on the surface, but he wasn’t afraid to waste a few lives in the process. He’s the kind of guy I could really get to like.} Well, it was stressful business. In fact, it was the stress that killed me—at much too young an age, too. That brings me to why I’m here. I’ve come to try to set the record straight—you know, tell my side of the story. Yes, I did some unpleasant things, but being the king is rough business, and sometimes a king’s got to do what a king’s got to do! I learned the art of being king from my father, Antipater. Now there was a ruthless guy. But you have to try to understand, in the cut-throat business of Roman politics, if you’re not loved, you had better be feared. Life is tough. And you know it, too. All of you have your little spheres of influence, your little kingdoms you are responsible for. You try to please everyone, but it just doesn’t always work. And you can’t let the other guys take advantage of you. You have to protect yourself, take care of yourself—no one else will! So you manipulate circumstances, people—you know, do what you have to. So don’t be so sure you wouldn’t have done some of the things I did. When we’re threatened, cornered, we use the power at our disposal. You do things you never thought you would do. Someone sticks the cold knife of slander into your reputation. So you come up with a little gossip of your own, just to sort of get even. The anger mounts on both sides, and soon you hate each other. Hey, your own leader, Jesus, said to hate is the same as murder. So we’re not so different, you and me. As most of you know I had a brief encounter with some wise men from the orient one day. I was busy with the affairs of state when my aide came to me. Squirrelly little guy, smelled like he needed a bath. He was almost bald, with a really bad comb-over. Slobbered a lot. He says some big shots from out east wanted to see me. He drooled on my papers from Rome, so I pushed him away from my desk and was just about to tell him where those oriental wise guys could take their camels, when they walked right in to my chambers and stood there with their silk robes and their slanted eyes. But I noticed they were obviously very rich, so I settled down, faked a diplomatic greeting. And then they lay this zinger on me: WHERE IS HE WHO IS BORN KING OF THE JEWS (right away, I’m thinking, “Hey, Genghis Kahn, I’m the king of the Jews!”) WE’VE SEEN HIS STAR IN THE EAST AND HAVE COME TO WORSHIP HIM. What got my attention is the title of king. It sounded like they believed there was a very real king who has been born in our land. This could be a real problem—a rival king! I told them I didn’t know anything about it, but I would check it out and let them know in the morning. We got them rooms at the Howard Johnson’s, and I went to work. My staff said there was something about the Jewish Messiah who was supposed to be a king and it was foretold that he would be born somewhere near Jerusalem. I called together a few of the Jewish priests and scribes, and they confirmed that, yes, the long-awaited Messiah, who was to be king of the Jews, was prophesied to be born in Bethlehem, according to Micah 5:2. I could feel the stress level rising and I was getting a headache. I didn’t sleep well that night—had nightmares of a baby coming into my palace and stealing my crown. The next day, I called a meeting with the magi and told them a white lie. I said, if there really was a king, would they please let me know so I could come and worship him, too. They agreed to go to Bethlehem, then to stop back in Jerusalem before heading east, and let me know exactly where the king was. I admit it—I was threatened by this little boy! In the uneasy world of political intrigue I was in, you had to watch out for everything. I know that sounds a little paranoid, but if you were in my sandals, you’d know exactly what I mean. So I made preliminary plans for the murder of this boy king. When I didn’t hear from them in a few days, I knew I’d been tricked. I wanted to chase them down and make them pay, but there was more important business at hand. Here’s the picture: I suspect there is a rival king, still a boy, by my calculations, under two years old. He’s living somewhere in the vicinity of Bethlehem, about 5 miles away. What would I do? What could I do? What would you do? Sometimes a king’s got to do what a king’s got to do! Have you ever felt threatened? Fear makes you do things. I mean, you do what you have to do. Don’t be so self-righteous. Looking at me like that because I have to kill maybe 20 or 30 toddlers. I’ve heard about your “godly country”—you sacrifice 4,000 babies every day to the god of convenience! (They love that stuff back in “that place”.) So don’t you get so judgmental! Sometimes a king’s got to do what a king’s got to do. Do you ever feel threatened, cornered? Do you ever feel like you’re about to lose control over your life, your future—like someone or something is going to bring you down? Where I come from—“that place”—we are sentenced to see the truth constantly, even though it is too late for us to love it or obey it. We are condemned to stare at everything good and righteous and fulfilling, without any access to it. He was king. He is the King of kings. And He is very threatening. Make no mistake about it. You have realms of power where you are your own boss, where you are in charge and in control. And you’re quite satisfied to keep God out of your life. But King Jesus wants your allegiance. He wants to have lordship over all the areas of your life. I’ve noticed you twenty-first century people make such sentimental mush out of Christmas. But Christmas has a dangerous message. A new king has been born who threatens our kingdoms of self-rule. Each of you has a choice—to embrace that King and to come under His reign, or to do like I did—march right out and do whatever you can to rid yourself of Him. But I found out, you can’t kill Him. All I was able to accomplish was some devastating collateral damage. If you drive Him out of your life, believe me, you lose for eternity. If you accept Him and honor Him as your Lord and King, you win—both now and for eternity. I had my chance; I made my choice. Now I am sentenced to face the truth for eternity. Your choice will save you or condemn you. There is no pain and agony so deep as the regret that I experience continually. What a fool I was to try to make a fortune and a name for myself. These things mean nothing now! Nothing! Forced to look at the truth has even made me see the awful things I did in my life in a new way. And it hurts so bad. To think, I took the lives of so many innocent people, trying to salvage the vestiges of my broken life. What a waste. What might it have been like if I had truly agreed to worship the baby king? To have had an attitude that wasn’t so self-seeking, self-promoting? To bow my knee, and my life, before the Lord of all. Sometimes I weep for weeks on end. I hope you understand. I have to go back to “that place” now. But I plead with you. Think about it today—the fact that you will someday die, and you will live for eternity in either a place of torment or a place of complete satisfaction. You know, no one deserves heaven. But the child king has paid the price to bring you there—if you will acknowledge Him and trust Him. Sometimes, you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do!   [Back to Top]