Commentary - Matthew 2:16-18

Bird's-eye view

In this brief but potent passage, Matthew brings us face to face with the collision of two kingdoms. On the one hand, you have the kingdom of God, arriving in the form of a helpless infant, the Lord Jesus Christ. On the other, you have the kingdom of man, embodied by the paranoid and bloodthirsty tyrant, Herod. This is not a gentle nativity scene suitable for a sentimental Christmas card. This is spiritual warfare, raw and ugly. Herod, representing all the impotent rage of worldly power, seeks to destroy the infant King. His failure is foreordained, but the collateral damage is heartbreaking. The slaughter of the innocents in Bethlehem is a stark reminder that the entrance of our salvation into this world was not without immense cost and sorrow. Matthew connects this historical atrocity to Old Testament prophecy, showing us that God is weaving all events, even the most horrific, into His sovereign and redemptive plan. The weeping of Rachel is the weeping of a fallen world, but it is a weeping that will, in Christ, be turned to joy.

Outline

• 1. The Tyrant's Rage (Matt 2:16)
  • a. Herod's Deception and Fury (v. 16a)
  • b. The Calculated Slaughter (v. 16b)
• 2. The Prophet's Lament (Matt 2:17-18)
  • a. Prophecy Fulfilled (v. 17)
  • b. Rachel's Inconsolable Grief (v. 18)

Commentary

Matthew 2:16

16 Then when Herod saw that he had been tricked by the magi, he became very enraged, and sent and slew all the male children who were in Bethlehem and all its vicinity, from two years old and under, according to the time which he had carefully determined from the magi.

Then when Herod saw that he had been tricked by the magi, he became very enraged... Here we see the true nature of worldly power when it is confronted by the authority of God. Herod is not just a historical figure; he is a type. He is the archetypal tyrant, consumed with self-preservation. He had put on a pious front for the magi, saying, "Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word, that I too may come and worship him" (Matt. 2:8). But this was a lie from the pit of hell. His intent was never worship, but murder. When the magi, warned by God in a dream, went home by another route, Herod's mask slips. The word for "tricked" here could be rendered "mocked" or "made a fool of." Worldly power cannot stand to be mocked. It takes itself with deadly seriousness. And so, his response is not disappointment, but rage. This is the fury of a man who believes he is god, and who has just been reminded that he is not.

...and sent and slew all the male children who were in Bethlehem and all its vicinity... This is what godless power does. It sheds innocent blood to maintain its position. Herod becomes a new Pharaoh, slaughtering the male children in an attempt to eliminate a perceived threat to his throne. Pharaoh tried to kill Moses, and Herod tries to kill Christ. The pattern is the same because the spiritual conflict is the same. The seed of the serpent is always trying to crush the seed of the woman. Bethlehem was a small town, so the number of children killed was likely not in the thousands, perhaps a few dozen. But the scale of the atrocity does not diminish its wickedness. This was a calculated, political act of mass murder, designed to secure his own pathetic little kingdom against the King of kings.

...from two years old and under, according to the time which he had carefully determined from the magi. Herod is nothing if not thorough in his wickedness. This detail shows the cold, calculating nature of his evil. He had "diligently inquired" of the wise men about the star's appearance (Matt. 2:7), and now he uses that information to set the parameters for his slaughter. The two-year timeframe suggests the star had appeared some time before the magi arrived in Jerusalem, and Herod, in his paranoia, creates a wide margin of error to ensure he gets his target. This is the kind of realpolitik that men congratulate themselves for, the hard decisions necessary to maintain order. But God calls it murder. And in this, we see the utter necessity of Christmas. The world is not a basically good place that just needs a little moral tune-up. It is a dark and bloody place, governed by men like Herod, and it is into this darkness that the Light of the World has come. The presence of such sin is not a refutation of the Christmas message; it is the reason Christmas was necessary.

Matthew 2:17-18

17 Then what had been spoken through Jeremiah the prophet was fulfilled, saying, 18 “A VOICE WAS HEARD IN RAMAH, WEEPING AND GREAT MOURNING, RACHEL WEEPING FOR HER CHILDREN; AND SHE WAS REFUSING TO BE COMFORTED, BECAUSE THEY WERE NO MORE.”

Then what had been spoken through Jeremiah the prophet was fulfilled... Matthew is insistent that we understand these events within the framework of God's revealed plan. This is not random, meaningless violence. It is horrific, yes, but it is not outside the sovereign decree of God. The word "fulfilled" here is crucial. Matthew is not simply saying that Jeremiah predicted this specific event. The fulfillment of prophecy in the New Testament is often typological. An event or pattern in the Old Testament serves as a "type" that finds its ultimate meaning and fulfillment in the life of Christ. What happened in Jeremiah's day is now happening again, and in a deeper, more profound way, because the stakes are infinitely higher. God is the great playwright, and He uses the same themes and patterns throughout His redemptive drama.

“A VOICE WAS HEARD IN RAMAH, WEEPING AND GREAT MOURNING, RACHEL WEEPING FOR HER CHILDREN... The original prophecy is from Jeremiah 31:15. Jeremiah was speaking about the Babylonian exile. Ramah was a town north of Jerusalem where the exiles were gathered before being marched off to Babylon. Rachel, the mother of Benjamin and Joseph, was buried near Bethlehem (Gen. 35:19), and she is personified here as the mother of Israel, weeping for her children who are being carried away into captivity, as good as dead. Now, Matthew applies this image to the slaughter in Bethlehem. The grief is the same. The loss is the same. Rachel, the matriarch buried nearby, is once again weeping for her children. This is the sound of a fallen world. It is the sound of sin and death. It is the sound of inconsolable grief.

...AND SHE WAS REFUSING TO BE COMFORTED, BECAUSE THEY WERE NO MORE.” This is the depth of the sorrow. There is no comfort to be had because the children are gone. But here is the glorious twist of the gospel. In Jeremiah's original context, the very next verses offer a stunning promise from God: "Thus says the LORD: 'Keep your voice from weeping, and your eyes from tears, for there is a reward for your work, declares the LORD, and they shall come back from the land of the enemy. There is hope for your future, declares the LORD, and your children shall come back to their own country'" (Jer. 31:16-17). Matthew doesn't quote these verses, but his readers would have known them. The weeping is not the final word. The slaughter is not the end of the story. Herod did not win. In fact, in this very act, the kingdom of darkness was overplaying its hand. The child they sought to destroy would grow up to destroy the works of the devil. He would go to the cross to conquer sin and death, and He would rise again, guaranteeing the resurrection of all who are His. Those children of Bethlehem were the first martyrs for Christ, and their weeping mother, Rachel, will be comforted. There is hope for her future, because her children will come back from the land of the enemy, the enemy called Death. The inconsolable grief of Matthew 2 gives way to the unshakeable hope of the empty tomb.