The Visit of the Magi

The Visit of the Magi
(Matthew 2:1-11)

A Paraphrased Retelling of Matthew 2:1-11

After two years had passed, magi from the East ventured to Jerusalem in search of a newborn king. “Where is the king of the Jews who has been born?” they asked. “We saw his star when it rose in the sky and have come to worship him.” But of course these wise men took notice of a new star in the sky, for as priestly astrologers, they studied the heavens above to discern the meaning of significant events on earth.

When this news of a star and a newborn king reached King Herod, he was rattled—and not only him, but all of Jerusalem too. So Herod convened a meeting of the city’s religious experts, the chief priests, and the teachers of the law. He asked them where, according to the Scriptures, the Messiah was to be born. They told him, “In Bethlehem of Judea, for God spoke through the prophet Micah and said:

Bethlehem, city of David, though you are small among the towns of Judah, your importance is beyond measure!

From your midst, a Shepherd King will arise to lead my people Israel.”

After this, Herod summoned the magi in secret and deceived them into thinking that he, too, wanted to pay homage to the newborn king. By doing this, he discovered precisely when the star had first appeared in the sky—two years earlier. Then he encouraged his visitors to travel the short distance to Bethlehem and seek out the child: “Go quickly now and find the boy so that you can return and tell me where he is. Then I, too, will go and bow down before him.”

This seemed good to the wise men, so they loaded up their caravan and went on their way. The star went ahead of them, moving across the night sky until it led them to a certain house in Bethlehem. The magi had finally arrived, and they were overcome with joy.

When they entered the house, they saw the Child in the embrace of his mother, Mary. Immediately, they fell down and worshipped him. Then they gave the boy King the treasures they had brought with them from the East, a small fortune in gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

What’s So Wise About Following a Star?

A new star appearing in the night sky meant something profound to people in the ancient world.

“Where is he who has been born king of the Jews? For we saw his star at its rising and have come to worship him.” (Matt. 2:2)

A generation before Jesus, a star—or rather, a comet—lit up the night sky. Bright as it was, the people took it as a sign. Word spread quickly that the comet was the soul of Julius Caesar,6 who had died earlier that year. “He must have been a god all along,” they said to one another. Two years later, the senate officially recognized Julius Caesar as a god.

This all worked out nicely for Augustus, the adopted son of Julius Caesar, for if his father was a god, then that made him the son of a god. As such, he was viewed as a savior from above, the one who brings peace to the whole world. In that, his birth was “good news” (or “gospel”) for people everywhere.7

With this bit of historical context in view, can you sense the subversive nature of the gospel accounts in the New Testament? Jesus is everything Augustus and the emperors who followed him pretended to be. His arrival is the real good news, not imperial propaganda. While Augustus was still reigning from Rome, the true Son of God was born in a small town on the edge of the empire. He was the long-awaited Savior the Jewish people had been waiting for, the “Prince of Peace” promised by God (Isa. 9:6). As such, his birth was heralded by angels as “good news of great that will be for all the people” (Luke 2:10). And a star in the sky above marked his birth—at least for those who knew to look up.

Matthew tells us that wise men in the East took notice of this new sparkle in the heavens. They understood that it was a sign announcing a new king had been born, and so they traveled to find him. These magi have become such an integral part of the Christmas story that we can easily forget we really don’t know much about them. For starters, we don’t know where in the East they were from. We also don’t know how they were able to connect the new star in the sky with the birth of a Jewish king. We don’t even know what compelled these men to pack up their things and head off on a monthslong adventure to pay homage to the young ruler. But if we work our way through these unknowns, connecting the dots, a beautiful picture of God’s perfect planning begins to emerge.

It’s hard to imagine these wise men traveled to visit every new king in the region. But something drew them to Judea. Perhaps they understood this was no ordinary king who had been born. Perhaps they understood this was not just a king but the Jewish Messiah, who was to rule “to the ends of the earth” (Ps. 72:8). Perhaps they had read that “all kings bow in homage to him, all nations serve him” (v. 11). Perhaps they marveled to learn that he would usher in a new age, one where the natural order of things would come undone, so that “the wolf will dwell with the lamb” (Isa. 11:6). Perhaps these Gentiles had learned from the Hebrew Scriptures. They had discovered the promises of God for the Jewish people—but not only for the Jewish people. And they believed.

Many Bible scholars believe these magi were from Babylon. And while the New Testament does not confirm or deny this, it’s a theory that makes a lot of sense. First of all, Babylon is to the east of the promised land. Second, the region had a large Jewish population at the time of Jesus’s birth. These were the descendants of the Jewish exiles who never returned to their homeland. Finally, if these magi were steeped in the traditions of their order, they may have stumbled upon the writings of their predecessor Daniel. The prophecies of Daniel, of course, contain much about the coming Messiah, certainly enough to pique the interest of astrologer-priests concerned about world events.

It may be that in their research they discovered that the star itself was prophesied more than a thousand years earlier. When the Israelites were sojourners in the wilderness, a seer for hire named Balaam attempted to curse them. But no matter how he tried, he wasn’t able to do it. Instead of spewing curses, Balaam poured out blessings upon God’s people. In one of them, he said:

I see him, but not now; I perceive him, but not near.
A star will come from Jacob, and a scepter will arise from Israel. (Num. 24:17)

We don’t know how long the wise men pondered the star, trying to discern what it might mean, but it seems they did their homework. If they were from Babylon, the journey to Judea would have taken approximately four months (see Ezra 7:9). They told Herod the star appeared two years prior to their arrival (Matt. 2:7, 16). That means they would have had about twenty months to unravel the mystery before setting out in search of the King of kings. And unravel it they did, for when they finally found the child Jesus, “falling to their knees, they worshiped him” (v. 11). The wise men stayed but a short time in Bethlehem, and when they returned home, they left more than gold, frankincense, and myrrh behind; they also left us an example to follow.

According to every standard this world values, Augustus Caesar was worthy of celebration. He had fame and fortune, power and prestige—all the things one would expect a king and a god to have. But Caesar was powerless to bring true peace to the world, and no amount of money could free humanity from the curse of sin and death. On the other hand, Jesus’s appearance and humble circumstances did nothing to suggest royalty or divinity, and yet the Word of God and a sign from heaven confirmed that he was the one upon whom all history would turn, the Savior the world desperately needed.

The magi believed God, and then they put their faith into action. They left behind the comfortable and the familiar to seek out the only one worthy of their worship. Today, we are called to do no less, even if it might seem foolish to the watching world.

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