On the fourth day of Christmas, we remember the consequence of the incarnation.

When we gather to sing praise that the Christ child is born, the usurper king on the throne hears the angelic voices as a threat to his reign.

Our joy is Herod’s fear.

The one with power fears losing it.

We hear the rest of the Christmas story in the weeks ahead. Sort of. But never fully. Or honestly. We avoid the dark side of Christmas.

In the gospel of Matthew, the baby is born, some wanderers from the East see signs in the sky, and they decide to find out about it.

They assume a new king being born would be a big deal to the people in Jerusalem. Like the current king. This must be something he’d be excited about.

So they visit Herod—who knows nothing about the Messiah. But now he does. So he sends them to get him intel. But when they figure out the ruse, they peace out and head home.

But Herod’s fear doesn’t leave with them. It grows.

So what does he do?

Genocide.

He murders every child in Bethlehem.

The Holy Family seek asylum in Egypt.

An angel’s warning sends the Holy Family to flee persecution in Egypt. The land to which the Hebrew people were told to never return.

They seek asylum in the forbidden land and it is where they stay until Herod dies. And the crown is passed to Herod’s son.

The thing Herod feared and murdered hundreds of children for was nothing. A phantom fear. What should be his joy. His safety and freedom. The thing every Hebrew would celebrate.

But no. He chose mass murder. Devastation. Utter destruction.

Blind and indiscriminate violence with the mere hope of protecting his precious power. Not to ensure safety. Because it can’t be 100% guaranteed. But in hopes that his safety could be maintained.

Kill to save.

And everyone’s suffering would be maintained, too.

This is part of the Christmas story.

Because it is the reason we need freeing. From oppression. Violence. Fear. Hatred.

The thing Herod feared was the people’s freedom. Was safety for the Hebrew people. A Messiah who could make God’s dream come true.

That’s exactly who he wanted dead. The baby we celebrate and call the King of Peace and Child of Humanity.

The one we worship and adore.

Dead.

Like the hundreds or thousands. Millions more, if he could. To slaughter every child to protect his power. His sense of safety through control.

This is the consequence of messiahs and saviors.

Slaveowners kill to protect control over slaves.

As do monarchs and kings, prime ministers and presidents.

Kill to protect control.

We sing alleluia! And they curse the dark.

Today, they join us.

In singing alleluia! While ensuring we need saving.

The powerful join us in welcoming the newborn king. Knowing that he isn’t the threat Herod feared. Because we turn our own blind eyes to genocide, starvation, persecution, and oppression.

Our own protection—from salvation.

We cheer the coming of a savior while preserving the chains that bind us. Preserving our own economic fortunes and a modicum of safety.

Modern safety through murder, mortar shells and poison gas, rockets and drones. Thousands dead in the region around Bethlehem. Hundreds of children. Slaughtered in the name of safety.

Safety from freedom.