Starlight and Kingship: Matthew 2:1-12

After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi from the east came to Jerusalem and asked, "Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him."

Magi. Not kings, despite the carols. Scholars, astrologers, priests of Persian religion—men who studied the heavens for signs and portents. They had seen something in the sky that sent them traveling hundreds of miles across desert to find a king.

We saw his star. Whatever they saw—conjunction of planets, supernova, miraculous light—they interpreted it as announcing royalty. A king had been born to the Jews, and they had come to worship.

When King Herod heard this he was disturbed, and all Jerusalem with him.

Disturbed. The Greek word suggests deep agitation, the shaking of a foundation. Herod the Great—who had murdered his own sons to protect his throne—heard that a rival king had been born. Of course he was disturbed.

And all Jerusalem with him. The city knew Herod. When Herod was disturbed, blood usually followed.

When he had called together all the people's chief priests and teachers of the law, he asked them where the Messiah was to be born.

Herod consulted the experts. If a king of the Jews had been born, the prophecies would tell him where.

"In Bethlehem in Judea," they replied, "for this is what the prophet has written: 'But you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for out of you will come a ruler who will shepherd my people Israel.'"

Micah's prophecy, seven hundred years old, pointed to the little town five miles south of Jerusalem. The religious leaders knew the text by heart. They could quote it perfectly.

But they did not go to Bethlehem. The Magi—Gentile outsiders—would travel while the insiders stayed home.

Then Herod called the Magi secretly and found out from them the exact time the star had appeared.

Secretly. Herod was calculating. If he knew when the star appeared, he would know the child's age. Information for targeting.

He sent them to Bethlehem and said, "Go and search carefully for the child. As soon as you find him, report to me, so that I too may go and worship him."

Worship. The word dripped with lies. Herod had never worshiped anyone but himself.

After they had heard the king, they went on their way, and the star they had seen when it rose went ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the child was.

The star moved. It led them from Jerusalem to Bethlehem, then stopped—pinpointing a location. Whatever this light was, it was not ordinary astronomy.

When they saw the star, they were overjoyed.

Overjoyed—the Greek suggests exceeding great joy, joy piled on joy. They had traveled so far, following a light in the sky, and now their quest was ending.

On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him.

A house now, not a stable—some time had passed since the birth. Mary and the child, and before them, Persian scholars on their knees. The first Gentile worshipers of the Jewish Messiah.

Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.

Gold for royalty. Frankincense for deity—the incense of temple worship. Myrrh for mortality—the spice of burial. Their gifts prophesied his identity and his destiny.

And having been warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, they returned to their country by another route.

Another dream. God redirecting the Magi, protecting the child, thwarting the murderer. They vanished from the story, heading home by a different road, carrying with them the secret of where the King could be found.

The star had led them to worship. The dream led them to safety. And Herod was left waiting for a report that would never come.