This sermon was preached to Grace Church Guildford on 6 March 2022. The full video recording of the service can be found below along with the transcript.
‘I believe everything happens for a reason.’ I’m sure you have heard someone say that before. Maybe you yourself have said it. While many who make such a comment are not Christians, it is a thoroughly Christian conclusion to come to. Again and again, the Bible both declares and displays the doctrine of God’s providence, that is the truth of God’s purposeful sovereignty, his intentional control of all things. Christianity teaches us that everything happens for a reason. ‘Everything’ – that includes both good things and bad things. Our happiest moments and our darkest experiences.
Of course, knowing that everything happens for a reason and knowing the reason why something has happened, are two very different things. When tragedies or disasters occur, we can always affirm that such events are not random. And yet, rarely can we answer the ‘why’ question, identify specific reasons behind individual events. The book of God’s providence is seldom shown to anyone but himself.
And yet, in our passage this evening, that is exactly what we are given a glimpse into. Our passage not only tells us what happened but also why it happened. We have both the plot and the purpose behind it. It’s like watching a movie with the director, someone who can stop the film and explain exactly why it all is happening this way. Everything happens for a reason, and in Matthew 2 God reveals the reasons why these particular events are happening.
Perhaps as you heard our passage tonight, it felt less like a movie and more like a recent news broadcast: here we read of refugees fleeing for safety and innocent children caught up in the crossfire. From this it is clear the events in Ukraine, which dominate our TV screens, are but the latest instalment of a longer story, the recurrence of a tragic theme that haunts the whole history of humanity. These are dark scenes, three snapshots of intense, immense, suffering: (1) The Flight to Egypt (2:13-15); (2) The Fury in Bethlehem (2:16-18); and (3) The Family at Nazareth (2:19-23). They are three of the darkest scenes in the whole of the book of Matthew. And yet, we are not left wondering why this all takes places. For at the end of each scene, Matthew reveals the reasons for each tragedy. You see that in 2:15, 2:17-18 and in 2:23. This is the movie director stopping the film to explain what is happening. Here God is giving us a glimpse into his great book of providence.
These three explanations act as shafts of light in what are otherwise desperately dark scenes. They remind us that God is sovereign even over all this. And as we shall see, although this passage does not reveal the specific reasons behind our own experiences of suffering, it does reveal three realities that we can cling onto even during the darkest days.
1. THE FLIGHT TO EGYPT (2:13-15) – You have a loving Father
From the highpoint of last week, our story quickly takes a turn for the worst. In 2:11 the Magi were worshipping Jesus in Bethlehem. Now, just two verses later, an angel is warning Joseph to flee the town for their lives. And yet, do you see the trajectory of this tragedy was set earlier in the chapter? In 2:8 Herod tries to trick the wise men into handing this newborn king over to him, but that plot was thwarted, for in 2:12 God intervened, instructing the wise men through a dream to avoid Herod on their way home. And yet, in the end, all that did was buy some time, for Herod will not give up easily. And so, our passage begins, by God again intervening in a dream, this time instructing Joseph to take the child and escape to Egypt. Which he immediately does in 2:14, leaving that very night.
Escaping to Egypt made perfect sense: Egypt had the largest Jewish community outside Israel, with over a million Jews there at this time. It was a safe shelter for Christ, a retreat outside of Herod’s murderous reach. And yet, do you see the reason given for this escape to Egypt is far more meaningful than merely responding to this immediate danger. When explaining this escape in 2:15, Matthew says it took place to fulfil "what the Lord had said through the prophet: ‘Out of Egypt I called my son.’"
As Christians, we can sometimes fall into the trap of thinking that God is merely a very good chess player, able to work out a way to win from whatever situation he is put in. That when God realises what Herod will do, he quickly reacts through dreams, removing his Messiah from this mess. However, do you see instead here, far from God responding to Herod, Herod is actually responding to God. God does not send Jesus to Egypt because of Herod’s plan. Rather, Herod chases Jesus to Egypt because of God’s plan. Long before Herod’s plot against Christ, hundreds of years before he was born, God prophesised that his Son would go down to Egypt. God is not responding to Herod’s plan, Herod is actually carrying out God’s plan. The same is true for us today. Christianity comforts us by not merely revealing that God can get us out of whatever mess we are facing, but by revealing that God has placed us in whatever mess we are facing. Our God is not merely an expert escape artist, he is the divine architect of time, the providential planner of all of history.
We shall shortly consider what difference this makes for us when we suffer. But for now, lest we miss Matthew’s meaning, I want to double click on 2:15 and look a little bit closer at this prophecy he points to. We read Hosea 11:1-11 earlier, and perhaps some of you were struck by how the line Matthew quotes does not appear to predict the coming of Jesus. Did you notice that? In Hosea 11:1 we read: "When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son." Note that God is not promising ‘he will call his Son out of Egypt’, but rather proclaiming ‘he has called his son out of Egypt’. Hosea 11 start with a summary not of what God will do in the future, but what God has done in the past, how he brought the nation of Israel out of Egypt in the Exodus, saved them from suffering as slaves, as we heard him promise in Exodus 3:7-10.
How is it then Matthew can say Jesus’ return to Egypt fulfils a rescue from Egypt that has already taken place? Well, the first thing to note is that Matthew hasn’t made a mistake. Hosea 11:1 really is a prophecy that is fulfilled by Jesus’s flight to Egypt. However, we must remember there are at least two types of prophecy in the Bible: predictions and patterns. Imagine we are watching a rugby match next weekend. And beforehand I say ‘Ireland are going to win this one 24-12’. That is clearly a prediction, me detailing in advance what will happen. The Bible contains many prophecies like that, we seen one last week, where Micah 5:2 tells us hundreds of years in advance that the Messiah will be born in Bethlehem. However, prophecies come not only as predictions, they also come as patterns. Imagine I said before the game: the only way England have been beaten this year is by a team really getting under their skin and having some of their players sent off. Well, when we watch the game, and England end up losing after a load of their players are sent off, you will see how the pattern I identified in the past actually acted as prophecy for the future. Prophecy in the Bible works the same way, there are not only predictions for the future, but there are also patterns from the past, types that set a trajectory, foreshadows that cause us to anticipate a future fulfilments.
Well, if this isn’t a mistake, then what does Matthew mean by it? How is the pattern set in Israel’s Exodus from Egypt echoed here in Matthew 2? When you start to investigate that question, all kinds of parallels appear. Of course, you have the physical relocation of Jesus to Egypt. Just as each of the Patriarchs: Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob (the founding fathers of the Israelite nation), all went down to Egypt to save their lives, fleeing from famines in the book of Genesis, here we see Jesus also fleeing to Egypt for sanctuary. Further, Herod’s cruel slaughter of Bethlehem’s children is clearly reminiscent of Pharaoh’s massacre of Israelite children in Exodus 1. Similarly, Matthew mentions Joseph immediately ‘getting up’ and ‘leaving in the night’, exactly what we are told about the Israelites suddenly leaving Egypt (Exodus 12:31). We could go on and on. If Matthew 1 signposted a New Genesis, a new beginning for humanity, here Matthew 2 signals a New Exodus, a new salvation for God’s people.
I think what Matthew means is so well captured by what we read from Hosea 11. There we heard God’s heartache for his people. He had taken Israel as a child, he has saved this son from his suffering in Egypt, taught the nation to walk in the wilderness, led them by the hand into a promised land, and then watched as they turned away from and worshiped other gods. Hosea 11:4 speaks of how the Almighty God stooped down to feed his people by hand, of how he lifted them up and held them as a little child to his check, they were a people pressed against the face of God! And yet, when they grew up, they went their own way, refused to recognise him as their Father, followed other gods instead.
As a result, God disciplined and punished them, gave them over to exile, sent them into slavery, back into Egypt as it were. And yet, like any parent, like perhaps some of you who have experienced the heartbreak of having a child turn away and rebel, we see that God will do anything to bring his child home. We hear his heart in 11:8, where he cries, "How can I give you up, Ephraim? How can I hand you over, Israel?" And so he declares that he will bring them back, that once again he will call them out of Egypt, that this time they will follow him, and he will lead them home.
By connecting Jesus’s flight to Egypt with Hosea 11, Matthew is making clear that this is what God is doing in Christ. It is not just that like Jesus, God’s people were once brought out of Egypt. It is that in Jesus, they will once again be brought out of Egypt. God's love for his people is so great, that when his earthly sons stray, he sends his heavenly Son to save them. In Jesus, God is calling his rebellious children out of Egypt. In Jesus, he is forming a new nation, a new Israel. In Jesus, he is bringing sinners home. See here, that behind all this suffering stands not merely a God who has absolute control, but a Father who loves his children and is so committed to leading them out of suffering, slavery and sin, he sent his beloved Son to be their Saviour.
2. THE FURY IN BETHLEHEM (2:16-18) – You have a certain hope
If in the Flight to Egypt we see that we have a loving Father, in the Fury in Bethlehem we learn we have a certain hope. That may seem like a strange summary for verses speaking of the slaughter of children at the command of a deluded dictator. Here we see how far Herod will stoop to hold onto power. He had tried to trick the wise men, yet is furious when he finds out they have in fact tricked him instead. And so, solders are sent to murder the male toddlers of Bethlehem.
Few scenes come close to the level of suffering seen here. And yet, once, again we are told that God is sovereign over it all. That there is a reason why this has happened. In 2:17 Matthew points out that when this took place, "what was said through the prophet Jeremiah was fulfilled: "A voice is heard in Ramah, weeping and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more.""
If having your child grow up and rebel against you is heart-breaking, then how can we even begin to describe the effect of having your toddler taken and murdered like this? We are right to be shocked at the scenes unfolding in Ukraine, of the immense suffering solders are causing at the command of a deluded dictator, and here is another such scene in our passage before us, an atrocity that surely ranks among the worst acts of mankind! And yet even this act of absolute savagery is set within God’s absolute sovereignty. This sinful killing spree that causes such suffering and sorrow does not surprise God. As one writer puts it, the plan of God encompasses even the worst acts of the most wicked men, and works them for good.
From this do you see Christianity is not some story we tell children to help them grow up to be good citizens, an old wives tale some of us simpletons still cling onto. Christianity doesn’t avoid hard questions or duck difficult issues. The Bible is not blind to the suffering and sorrow that so many face. The Bible speaks openly and honestly about such things. Its truths are more than able to bear the weight of this world’s wickedness. Christianity is big enough to comprehend even the most terrible tragedy. For it reveals a God who is big enough to explain all things, a God who can always say, as he did to Israel in Egypt: I know your suffering, I see your affliction, and I will save.
Even humanities worst moments, most wicked acts, cannot unravel his purposes, derail his promises. Indeed, all they can do is further his plan, for he takes even our worst crimes and uses them for his good purposes. As we thought earlier, we may never know the reason why something has happened to us or those we love. But we should not doubt that there is a reason. That God knows it. And as Romans 8:28 teaches: "in all things God works for the good of those who love him." In a world full of such bad news, is that not good news? In a world where periods of peace are only ever temporary truces, where no nation can control the course of history, when nuclear catastrophe is only ever the press of a button, the flight of a missile away, is this big God, is this certain hope not what we need? In a world like this, could there be better news than this?
When we go and look at the context of this quotation here, the truth of our certain hope is exactly what we find. Matthew is quoting from Jeremiah 31:15, where we see Rachel, considered as the mother of Israel, standing as a symbol for all those mothers who were weeping in Bethlehem that night. In fact, Genesis (35:19; 48:17) tells us that Rachel was actually buried near to Bethlehem, and so the idea is even as nearby innocent children were being murdered that night, Rachel is turning in her grave, convulsing with sorrow of this nearby slaughter of infants. It says she refuses to be comforted, for her children are no more. And yet, immediately, in the next verse, Jeremiah points to how the Lord comes to Rachel with such comfort. In 31:16 he continues, "This is what the LORD says: "Restrain your voice from weeping and your eyes from tears [...] there is hope for your descendants," declares the LORD. "Your children will return to their own land. "I have surely heard Ephraim’s moaning [...] Is not Ephraim my dear son, the child in whom I delight? Though I often speak against him, I still remember him. Therefore my heart yearns for him; I have great compassion for him," declares the LORD." (31:16–20). Here again we have a loving Father. And if you read the rest of Jeremiah 31, you will see him promise to make the new covenant, an arrangement that will bring about permanent peace for his people, and it is this same covenant that Matthew tells us in 26:28 was purchased at the price of Jesus’ blood. Because the Christ child did not perish in Bethlehem that night, we all have a certain hope. A guarantee that one day all suffering and sorrow will cease.
As the Psalmist puts it in 30:5, we are assured that "weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning." Brothers and sisters, even if that night of weeping lasts longer than you can ever imagine, your rejoicing will last all eternity. Because of Jesus, there is a morning of joy coming, a dawn of gladness that will break over all of God’s suffering people: over the mothers of Bethlehem, even over each of you. For we have a certain hope.
3. THE FAMILY IN NAZARETH (2:19-23) – You have a suffering Saviour
Our passage closes with Joseph finally being able to settle his family in Israel. While Herod tried to kill the Christ, Herod himself is the one who ends up perishing. His mischief returned on his own head, with records suggesting that he died shortly after those atrocities in Bethlehem. And yet, unfortunately for his people, Archelaus, his son and successor, was even more savage. A few years later, his people sent a delegation to Rome to complain about how he had massacred 3000 Jews near the temple in Jerusalem. As a result, to keep the peace, Archelaus was removed – he was even too ruthless for the Romans – and a replacement is sent from Rome. That is how Pilate ends up ruling there later in the book.
Given that Archelaus was as volatile as his father, it makes sense that Joseph would go to Galilee, a region with a more stable ruler. And Nazareth was a natural choice, with Luke 1 suggesting it was the hometown of both Mary and Joseph before they relocated to Bethlehem. And yet, Matthew once again makes clear there was a more meaningful reason for all this than caution or convenience. 2:23 explains for the third time, "So was fulfilled what was said through the prophets, that he would be called a Nazarene." Do you see how every detail of Jesus’ life is carefully crafted, perfectly planned and prophesised in advance?
As Spurgeon says, ‘Our Prince steps along a pathway paved with promises.’ This time, however, it is not just one prophecy that Matthew has in mind. Did you notice that in 2:23, it is "what was said through the prophets...". As a result, it can be a little unclear what prophecies Matthew means! Looking in the Old Testament for the phrase Nazarene or place of Nazareth doesn’t get us anywhere, because there wasn’t a settlement there until after Old Testament time and so no mention of ‘Nazarenes’. If we had talked to Isaiah or Jeremiah about the prophecy of the Nazarene, they would have just stared blankly at us!
However, that itself captures what Matthew means here. You see, Nazareth was nowhere. A recent settlement of around 480 people, a small agricultural village with nothing more than a few olive presses and millstones. Entirely insignificant! Last week we thought about the relative unimportance of Bethlehem, but Nazareth was even less notable! A rural backward village in the far north of the land. That is why Nathaniel asks his question in John 1:46, ‘Can anything good come from Nazareth?’ He was shocked to hear that the Messiah had apparently come from such an obscure place. To be from Nazareth was to be an outsider, a nobody, a country bumpkin, it would be an insult to those of position and prestige. Later in Matthew 26:71 and then in Acts 24:5, Jesus and his followers are linked with Nazareth as an insult, a put down, a derogatory label. A way of disparaging and depreciating them.
Matthew’s readers knew all about this, many of them had perhaps been insultingly called ‘Nazarenes’ for following Jesus. And Matthew is saying this is exactly what the prophets had told us to expect. That Jesus would be an outsider, a reject, despised and forsaken of men. For example, think of Isaiah 53, where we are told Christ would have nothing to naturally attract us, but rather would be despised and rejected, a man of sorrow and suffering, would be held in low esteem. When Matthew records how Jesus ends up settling and spending the first 30 years of his life in Nazareth-nowhere and is neither shocked or surprised by it, for the Old Testament taught him to expect a suffering Saviour.
Our Saviour humbling himself to 30 years in Nazareth surely calls us to go to marginal, small, forgotten places in our own day, to gladly serve the interests of those who are looked upon as the least: whether refugees or foreigners, children or the disabled, the elderly or ill, the disadvantaged or imprisoned. Further, the fact that we follow the Nazarene should free us from ever feeling the need to be seen as part of the cream of society, have cultural elites recognise our significance, desire to be part of the cool crowd around the watercooler, at the school gates or in the university classroom. Jesus was not an insider; he was an obscure outsider. We need not fear being the same today.
Our suffering Saviour calls us to accept suffering for his sake, but it also comforts us in suffering. The good news of Christianity, the gospel, contains an absolutely mind-blowing contrast. We sang about it in our Christmas carols just a few months ago. The second verse of Once in Royal David's City puts it so well: ‘He came down to earth from heaven, who is God and Lord of all. And his shelter was a stable, and his manager was a stall. With the poor and mean and lowly, lived on earth our Saviour Holy.’ The Lord of all, comes among us all, the King of kings, born not in a palace, but in a stable. Grew up not in prosperity, but poverty, in the little village of Nazareth. As Philippians 2 reminds us he humbled himself by being made in human likeness, but even more than that, he humbled himself to death, even to death on a cross.
You see this night in Matthew 2, Jesus escaped from death, but later in Matthew there is another night, where Jesus will face rather than flee from his enemies, where he will submit to that death on a cross. These three scenes we have thought about together are dark, soaked with suffering and sorrow, there are no darker scenes in Matthews Gospel, save one. If the murder of the innocent toddler sons of Bethlehem was a tragedy, then what can we call the murder of the innocent divine Son of God? Just as the mothers of Bethlehem experienced their toddler sons taken by killed by soldiers, Mary, the mother of Jesus, watched her son taken and killed by soldiers. Nailed to a cross. With a sign about his head that announced both his meekness and his majesty, both his humility and his royalty, for it read ‘Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews’ (John 19:19).
And yet, like Herod’s plot in our passage, see that even this great injustice, the greatest injustice this world has ever seen, even this suffering and sorrow, was encompassed in the plan of God and works for our good. Though they crucified him out of the cruelty of their hearts, they were offering him up according to the plan and foreknowledge of God. So that the punishment for our sins might rest on his shoulders. That the eternal suffering of every one who turns from sin and trusts in him, might be entirely spent, vanquished, paid fully by the blood of the Son of God.
If you are not a Christian here tonight. I want you to consider not only how you will deal with suffering in this life, but how you will with suffering in eternity. For as bad and heartbreaking as your suffering is, as I stand here with this book, I have to warn you that there will be no end to your suffering. Why will you perish like that? When there is a Saviour standing ready to save all who turn to him?
If you are a Christian, as you pass through suffering in this world, I want you to remember that even if you never find out the reason for your suffering down here below, that there are three realities you can cling onto: (1) You have a loving Father; (2) You have a certain Hope; and (3) You have a suffering Saviour. You see, we may have to bear many crosses in this world, but we need never bear that one. We may have to suffer in all kinds of ways in this life. But we will never suffer for our sins. For we have a Saviour who came and died in our place so that he might ultimately free us from all slavery and suffering and sin. What a Saviour!
ALEXANDER ARRELL