Those scoundrels. Plotting. Sneaking. Trying to take my throne. But it’s not going to happen. No, I’ll fix them.
They show up in Jerusalem. Come to the palace looking for the new king. I am here. I am king. I, Herod the Great, am King of the Jews! But these men are not looking for me.
Those supposed wise men — no better than slaves, I say — they show up wanting to know about some baby who is supposed to be King of the Jews. They’ve seen some special star and have followed it from the East, they say.
They were expecting to find some baby who would rule this nation. But I don’t have a young son. My heir is older. They say they are not looking for my son.
They say that a baby has been born who will be the Messiah. They say it has been prophesied of old.
Bah. Prophecies are for superstitious people. I’m Herod the Great. I am king. I bow to no one. Not even Caesar will take my throne. Even my own family has tried, and failed. If I can destroy my own plotting son and wife, I can certainly take care of some little child.
According to my chief priests and scribes, this Messiah would be born in Bethlehem of Judea. I sent those travelers there. I told them that they should go and find the child and bring back word, so that I may go worship him also. Heh heh.
They even brought gifts for the baby, as if this boy was important. I too have a gift for the child, but it’s blade is considerably sharper than gold, frankincense and myrrh. Yes, I’ll give this child what he has coming to him.
But it’s been weeks. Surely those foolish men have found the child. Bethlehem is not that big. Why have they not returned to me? How will I know which child must die? I cannot allow this child to take my throne. I AM THE KING! I am Herod the Great. This is my kingdom. I am sovereign. I will relinquish it to no one!
These men said the star appeared nearly two years ago. They have traveled a great distance. I can only assume they will not return to me. So I will have to deal with this matter another way. If they will not tell me which baby boy is this supposed Messiah, then they leave me no choice.
It could have been done the easy way, only one child had to die. But they never returned. I must now send my soldiers to Bethlehem and the surrounding area with orders to kill every male age 2 and younger. That way that foolish Messiah prophecy will be ended. My kingdom can again be at peace.
EPILOGUE: It’s been more than 30 years since my father, Herod the Great, was visited by strangers from the east, seeking a baby who would become Messiah. Today, some Jesus of Nazareth was brought before me — Herod Antipas — and accused of claiming to be Messiah, King of the Jews.
I actually was hoping to meet him some day. I’d heard a lot about him. But he wouldn’t show me any miracles.
He supposedly fed thousands of people with a few loaves and fishes.
He’s supposed to be this great teacher and rabbi, but he wouldn’t say a word to me.
Doesn’t he realize who I am? Disrespect me, will he? Since the Jews want him killed because of his claims, I’ll just send this Jesus back to Pilate. He’ll put him to death. He can’t risk an uprising during Passover.
Yes, soon he’ll be hanging on a cross and once again, a great Herod will have helped quell this ridiculous notion of a Jewish Messiah. In a few months, nobody will even remember this Jesus of Nazareth.
Mark my words.
DARYL MADORE is Worship page editor at The Times Record.
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