Read Matthew 2:-1-12
IT WAS A GROUP of astrologers “from the east” who first informed Herod that an heir to the Jewish throne had been born in his territory (v. 1). They must have traveled a long way, and I wonder if they had any idea what kind of man this king was. I imagine Herod making his visitors wait outside in the sun while he finished his lunch. And when he finally listened to their account of an auspicious star pointing to a royal birth, the significance of the story was difficult for him to digest.
Matthew tells us that “all Jerusalem” felt the upheaval in Herod’s soul, where insecurity and contempt burned through stability and reason (v. 3). The deadly pistons of conspiracy churned, fueled by a reservoir of fear that he wouldn’t have been able to acknowledge; but it must have escaped like steam from his expression and tone, obvious to anyone in his orbit.
He received the news of God’s chosen deliverer as a threat. The existence of a tiny, legitimate, messianic king of Israel felt like an assault on the identity that Herod had constructed for himself, a brittle tower of power and self-importance. And the urgency of his arrogance and fragility was the only justification for wielding the coercive violence of the state to kill babies in broad daylight.
The Magi refused to participate in his plot. They were wiser men than Herod realized, which isn’t surprising. His kind of pride and hatred make it difficult to truly see others for who they are; all of his internal energy was expended on convincing the world that he was as great as he imagined he should be.
After their visit with Jesus, the Magi escaped back to their country. It is scandalous and wonderful that these foreigners were the first to worship Jesus in Matthew’s account. Although sometimes in subtle and subversive ways, Matthew highlights the radical inclusion of the nations in the new people of God throughout his gospel. In fact, many of my friends from places like Iran, Azerbaijan, and Kazakhstan all want to claim the Magi as having come from their homeland.
Matthew’s version of the events also reveals a parallel with the Old Testament Exodus story. Like Herod, Pharoah had ordered the slaughter of babies in a desperate attempt to eliminate a perceived threat to power. The shrewdness of Shiphrah and Puah, wise midwives whose names are worth remembering, thwarted his evil plan (Ex. 1:15–21). And Moses, God’s chosen deliverer, was rescued and raised in exile, which was, of course, God’s plan all along.
I live as an exile on the island of Cyprus. I was unjustly deported from my former home by a leader who considers me a threat to national security. He doesn’t want the good news of God’s deliverance to spread. He cannot see the wisdom of our work caring for refugees. And he cannot see the goodness of the people we serve. But, now seven years later, I can see the hand of God moving us to complete a greater plan. And I am learning to focus on its goodness, and on his goodness, even when I am called to dark government offices to respond to false accusations in our new home as well. His kingdom is coming.
I imagine that Joseph and Mary were too inspired by the greatness of their son to let their lives be defined by bitterness toward Herod and the dark politics of the world around them. There were days to redeem and long afternoons to join in the work of hoping for the renewal of all things, even as they made the long walk back from Egypt and watched Jesus suffer alienation, false accusations, and persecution. In the end, after our own long days of waiting, we all join the Magi in worship.
Ryan Keating is a writer, teacher, and pastor on the island of Cyprus. His poetry can be found in publications such as Ekstasis and Fare Forward.
This article is part of A Time for Wonder, a 4-week devotional to help individuals, small groups, and families journey through the 2024 Advent season. Learn more about this special issue that can be used Advent, or any time of year at http://orderct.com/advent.
