Joseph, the Bethlehem Massacre, and the Compassion of God

The gospel text (Matthew 2:13-15,19-23) is not an easy one. Matthew confronts us with the stark reality of Herod’s cruelty, the suffering of innocents, and the deep grief of a world marked by violence. This is not the Christmas story we display on greeting cards. Instead, it is the raw and unfiltered aftermath of Christ’s arrival, a story where light enters the world, and darkness recoils with terrible force.

Frank Tupper, a theologian attuned to the complexities of God’s providence, offers a lens through which to consider this passage. His reflections on the story of Joseph and the Bethlehem Massacre do not dismiss the horror of these events but rather invite one to grapple with a God who does not coerce history, even in moments of profound suffering. In Tupper’s words, “God always does the most God can do,” and this perspective illuminates Joseph’s role as a model of faithful human agency amidst chaos.

Joseph: The Quiet Hero of Providence

When the angel of the Lord appears to Joseph in a dream, there is no dramatic fanfare, no divine intervention to destroy Herod’s evil plan. Instead, God works quietly, through the obedience of a carpenter from Nazareth. “Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt,” the angel commands. And Joseph does precisely that—without hesitation, without questioning the absurdity or danger of fleeing in the night.

Joseph’s actions remind us that God often works through ordinary people who are willing to respond to extraordinary circumstances with faith and courage. Joseph doesn’t have Herod’s power or the resources of a king, but he has something greater: a heart attuned to God’s voice and the resolve to protect what is most sacred, even when it means walking into uncertainty.

In Tupper’s theology, this is the essence of divine providence. God does not override human freedom or erase suffering with a sweep of divine power. Instead, God calls people like Joseph to act faithfully within the messy realities of a broken world. Joseph becomes a co-laborer with God, sheltering the Christ child not through miraculous strength but through quiet obedience and sacrificial love.

The Massacre and the Compassion of God

And yet, the question remains: why does God not stop Herod? Why are the children of Bethlehem allowed to perish? These are questions that have echoed through the ages, arising wherever suffering and evil seem to triumph.

Tupper does not offer easy answers, but he points us to a God who is present in the midst of suffering, sharing in the world’s grief and working tirelessly to redeem it. The lamentation of Rachel, “weeping for her children,” is not unheard by God. It is, in fact, shared by God. The tears of Bethlehem mingle with the tears of a God whose love enters fully into the pain of the world. The Incarnation itself is a sign of this divine solidarity—a God who chooses to be vulnerable, who steps into the world not as a conqueror but as a child.

In this way, the story of the Massacre of the Innocents is not merely a tragedy but also a profound revelation of God’s compassion. It reminds us that even when evil appears to have the upper hand, God’s purposes endure. The Christ child escapes Herod’s grasp, not because God prevents Herod’s evil but because God works through the courage of Joseph and the faithfulness of those who listen and respond.

Finding Hope in the Darkness

The story of Joseph and the Bethlehem Massacre challenges one to consider our own role in God’s work of redemption. Like Joseph, we are called to respond to God’s voice, to act in faith even when the path ahead is fraught with uncertainty. And like the mothers of Bethlehem, we are invited to bring our grief, our lament, and our questions to the God who sees, hears, and redeems.

This is not a story that ends in despair. The Christ child survives, not as a passive figure, but as the one who will ultimately confront and conquer the powers of sin and death. Even in the darkest moments of history, God’s light is never extinguished.