A growing modern fear goes by the words “range anxiety.” According to the 2026 Oxford Dictionary, range anxiety is defined as worry on the part of a person driving an electric car that the battery will run out of power before the destination or a suitable charging point is reached. As a fairly new EV – electric vehicle – driver, I am learning with time to gauge my mileage and find charging with more and more confidence. And learning to remember to plug in and charge my car each night.
Fears and anxiety come in our brains and bodies in many ways we don’t always realize. If we are honest, we all have real fears that may or may not be rational. Some have a fear of heights, fears of flying or driving, fears about health, food, shelter, money, or the future. How do we understand our fears, their power over us, and how do we handle or process them?
Even the fear within us cause us stress, paranoia, or pain. The Magi faced peril as they were warned in a dream to steer clear of Herod on their way home. Mary and Joseph faced peril immediately after our scripture today, when Herod’s fear of losing his power fueled his rage, and he murdered all of the children under two years old in and around Bethlehem. Perhaps even our fears have a face in Herod’s fears.
It makes sense, that the Magi as advisors to Eastern kings, would consult with King Herod to continue searching for the King of the Jews. Herod is so frightened by the Magi’s news that Jerusalem is frightened with him. Perhaps even Jerusalem was frightened knowing that Herod was afraid, because a fearful king is a terrifying king. Fearful kings do violent things as their fear turns to anger.
King Herod here in the Gospel lesson refers to Herod the Great, who ruled from 37–4 B.C.E.—which was terrifying time of chaos and trauma for the Jewish people. Herod’s wealth funded numerous beautiful building projects, including multiple palatial fortresses as well as the reconstruction and expansion of the Jerusalem temple.
But Herod was also a ruthless tyrant with brutal displays of dominance. He was perfectly willing to torture and kill his perceived opponents, even his own wife and sons. He reflects the reality that tyrants will too often do whatever it takes to protect their rule, even if it means destroying innocent lives.
In Herod’s view, could there be a greater threat to his rule than one who is prophesied in ancient texts and declared a king by people from far away?
The verb expressing Herod’s fear means to be confused, troubled, or stirred up, even terrified, which is how the translation reads today describes Herod’s state, but other major translations use the words that Herod was disturbed (NIV) or troubled (KJV, NASB)
Mindy Misener of Yale Divinity School notes: “We lose something when we go from troubled to frightened. … Frightened narrows the emotional register to a single feeling, instead of capturing the range of emotions that might be stirred up in Herod when he hears the news. Herod might be afraid. But maybe also irritated. And curious. Or furious. Maybe he feels, too, somewhere in the seat of his soul, a sense that his life is profoundly entangled with that which extends far beyond his sight, beyond the reach of his powers. Maybe, for a second or two, he feels something like an invitation, both vast and personal, to participate somehow in what is unfolding. And maybe it is this very confusion of reactions that he hates.”
Herod is terrified of losing power and facing vulnerabilities or even being defeated, and Matthew says the people of Jerusalem are terrified as well—no doubt aware of the crushing blows they will suffer under any conflict between Herod and anyone he opposes. Their fears prove to be justified when Herod later orders the murder of young children in an attempt to destroy the child Jesus.
History and current events are filled with examples of earthly powers that are manifested through violence, killing innocent victims along the way. Indeed, this child, whose birth is marked by a rising star, will die by such violence in the crucifixion.
Fear, in a spiritual context, means a deep reverence, awe, and respect for divine power leading to obedience, rather than terror. And worship is the expression of devotion through adoration, praise, and service, which recognizes God as the source of goodness. Reverence and awe are a profound respect and sense of wonder for God’s holiness, power, and character. Martin Luther, in his explanation of the Ten Commandments, calls us to “fear and love God”.
There is a call hear to examine the God or god which capture our fear and worship because that worship will transform us.
Both Herod and the Magi want to pay homage, which is what the Gospel lesson describes, which means to show worship, respect, honor, or tribute by imitating, referencing, or celebrating their work and spirit in your own actions. To pay homage is to show the significance and influence of that which you are honoring.
Saint Teresa’s “Bookmark Prayer” on fear offers these words: “Let nothing disturb you, let nothing frighten you, all things are passing away. God never changes. Patience obtains all things. Whoever has God lacks nothing; God alone suffices.”
These Magi were star gazers noticed changes in the night sky. The sky this Christmas season has not escaped me of various lightning, thunder, clouds, claps of light, but also noticing a bright rainbow in the clouds this week, and bright early morning moonlight and brilliant stars. And I can’t help but read today’s gospel reading with the reality of the current state of our world. As we hear about a moment in time where the Magi encounter the grace of God in Christ and deliver him gifts fit for a king while the United States is delivered air strikes to South America and captured Venezuela’s President.
We long for the day that the words of Paul were to come true, that “through the church the wisdom of God in its rich variety might now be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly places.”
The birth of God’s Messiah is a sign to the world for healing and life, not for terror and death. The baby born in Bethlehem as the Prince of Peace will lead the way of a shepherd (Matthew 2:6; see also Micah 5:2–5). He will preach and enact blessings upon the humble, the grieving, the meek, and even the peacemakers and those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake (Matthew 5:1 and following).
Is the birth of Christ powerful enough to orient our worship, our tribute, our offerings, our honor, and our homage in God’s grace, love, and peace in this Christ child?
I would like say yes, yet we set our gaze on the false light of other stars — stars that promise power, protection, security, and prosperity. We set up altars of things we worship that numb our deep fears and pains. These are lights we are drawn to that, like a moth to a flame, only bring death: the material, our addictions, our self-absorptions. When rulers and authorities who are drawn to these lights plot death, we, like the Magi, can find new roads to travel home led by a compass of God’s majestic and wondrous grace.
To follow Christ is to be part of a community that negotiates the sheer wonder and mystery of life and, more than that, the challenge of living in and through the Word made flesh. Christ is the one who invites us into the story to worship the awe and majesty of the incarnate God with us, whose grace never stops transforming us to journey in faith.
