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 2and asked, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star in the east and have come to worship him.”

3When King Herod heard this he was disturbed, and all Jerusalem with him. 4When he had called together all the people’s chief priests and teachers of the law, he asked them where the Christ was to be born. 5“In Bethlehem in Judea,” they replied, “for this is what the prophet has written:

6“ ‘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 be the shepherd of my people Israel.’ ”

7Then Herod called the Magi secretly and found out from them the exact time the star had appeared. 8He sent them to Bethlehem and said, “Go and make a careful search for the child. As soon as you find him, report to me, so that I too may go and worship him.”

9After they had heard the king, they went on their way, and the star they had seen in the east went ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the child was. 10When they saw the star, they were overjoyed. 11On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold and of incense and of myrrh. 12And having been warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, they returned to their country by another route.

Original Meaning

AS CHAPTER 2 opens, the narrative time frame has jumped ahead upwards of two years (see comments on 2:16). Matthew ended chapter 1 with Jesus being born and named (1:25). Now this baby is a “child” (2:8, 10), and the family is living “in Bethlehem in Judea” (2:1).1 Bethlehem is located six miles south/southwest of Jerusalem.2

Luke informs us that before the birth of Jesus, Joseph and Mary traveled from Nazareth in Galilee to Bethlehem in Judea for the mandated census ordered by Caesar Augustus (Luke 2:1–7). They most likely performed a wedding ceremony in Nazareth, after which they traveled to Bethlehem for the census, where the child was born.3 Luke does not mention any of the events found in Matthew 2 except to say that after the presentation of the child in the temple, “when Joseph and Mary had done everything required by the Law of the Lord, they returned to Galilee to their own town of Nazareth” (Luke 2:39).

Most who try to harmonize the infancy accounts suggest that the events of Matthew 2 occur after the temple visit but before the permanent return to Nazareth to raise the child.4 Others suggest the trip to Nazareth in Luke 2:39 took place prior to the events of Matthew 2, proposing that after the family left the temple, they went to Nazareth for their personal belongings (Luke 2:29) since they had decided to raise the child in Bethlehem. Then, after taking up residence in Bethlehem, the events of Matthew 2:1–22 unfold. When they return from Egypt and discover the danger of continuing to live in Bethlehem, they return permanently to Nazareth.5 It is somewhat difficult to posit an intermediary visit to Nazareth based on the surface reading of Luke 2:39–40. In any case, after Jesus’ birth and his presentation in the temple, Joseph and Mary decide to raise the child in Bethlehem, Joseph’s ancestral city.

The Magi’s Journey to Jerusalem (2:1–2)

THE EVENTS MATTHEW is about to narrate take place “during the time of King Herod.” Palestine, the region of land comprising the biblical Israel and Judah, was one of the many regions that fell to the ever-expanding Roman Empire. A series of problems within the Hasmonean dynasty had left it fair game for the voracious appetite of Roman military expansion. In 63 B.C., the renowned general Pompey advanced on Jerusalem and captured the city as well as the rest of Palestine. The Romans installed local figures to rule for them, and eventually Herod, an Idumean/Nabatean by bloodline, gained prominence and ruled under Rome from 37 to 4 B.C. Herod, called “king of the Jews,” ruled firmly and at times ruthlessly. He most likely died in March, 4 B.C. (see discussion below). Since Herod is still alive when the Magi arrive in Jerusalem as much as two years after Jesus was born, the dating of Jesus’ birth is placed by most scholars at between 6 and 4 B.C. (see comments on 2:16).

The universal significance of the birth of the child Jesus is heralded immediately because Magi from the east arrive in Jerusalem seeking to worship the one born “king of the Jews” (1:1–2). The term “Magi” (magos, “magician”) originally referred to a priestly caste in ancient Persia, perhaps followers of Zoroaster (c. 630?–550? B.C.), a Persian teacher and prophet. Babylonian elements were subsequently introduced, including astrology, demonology, wisdom, and magic. Magi were usually leading figures in the religious court life of their country of origin, employing a variety of scientific (astrology), diplomatic (wisdom), and religious (magical incantations) elements in their work. These practices were distinct from a more common type of “magician” found elsewhere (e.g., magos in Acts 13:6, 8).

These Magi came from “the east” and were looking for the one born “king of the Jews.” They apparently had been exposed to Old Testament prophecies from Jewish colonies situated in the east. Although many Jews returned to Palestine after the Exile, many remained in the east, especially in Babylon, in Parthia to the north, and in Arabia to the southwest. Pagan leaders, both political and religious, were well aware of Jewish religious distinctives, such as Sabbath observance and marital restrictions,6 and there were significant Jewish centers of learning in Babylon at the time of the Magi.7 Gentile religious leaders in the east were regularly exposed to Hebrew Scriptures, prophecy, and teachers.

If the Magi came from the environs of Babylon,8 they would have traveled approximately nine hundred miles. The trade route from Babylon followed the Euphrates River north, then south through the Orontes River valley of Syria into Palestine. Since they would have had to make arrangements for the journey and gather a traveling party, it would have taken several months from the time they first saw the star until they arrived in Jerusalem.9

In spite of the well-known Christmas carol “We Three Kings of Orient Are,” there is little historical certainty behind the wording of the stanza. As early as the third century A.D., the Magi were considered kings, fulfilling Psalm 72:11, “All kings will bow down to him.” But the Magi were probably more along the lines of religious advisers to their court. Their actual number is uncertain. Eastern tradition sets their number at twelve, but Western tradition sets it at three, based on the three gifts of gold, incense, and myrrh.10 Likely the Magi, whatever their number, traveled with a much larger number of attendants and guards for the long journey.

The Magi’s goal is to find “the one who has been born king of the Jews.” Matthew has traced the lineage through King David (1:6), preparing for Jesus Messiah to be called “king of the Jews.” The people of Israel had long waited for the rightful heir to the throne, but God announces his arrival first through these Gentile Magi. An expectation had circulated in the world of the first century that a ruler would arise from Judea. Suetonius writes, “Throughout the whole of the East there had spread an old and persistent belief: destiny had decreed that at that time men coming forth from Judea would seize power [and rule the world].”11 Israel’s prophets had long spoken of a period of world peace and prosperity that would be instituted by a future Davidic deliverer (e.g., Ezek. 34:23–31). This belief had penetrated beyond the borders of Israel, so that others were looking for a ruler(s) to arise from the land of Judea.12

The Magi announce of the king whom they seek, “We saw his star in the east and have come to worship him.” The word “east” (anatole) can mean either the “rising” of the sun and stars (cf. Luke 1:78) or the locale called “the east” (Rev. 21:13).13 The phrase “from the east” in 2:1 appears to be the latter, but the expression “in the east” in 2:2 implies the former, indicating that they saw the star rise. That is, they didn’t see the star rise in the eastern part of the sky, otherwise it would have caused them to travel east. Rather, while they were to the east of Jerusalem, the star rose, perhaps to the west of them, causing them to travel west to Jerusalem.

Through the Jewish community in their homeland, the Magi would have become familiar with Balaam’s prophecy, “A star will come out of Jacob; a scepter will rise out of Israel” (Num. 24:17). In many quarters within Judaism this prophecy was understood to point to a messianic deliverer (e.g., CD 7:18–26; 4QTest. 9–13). In Revelation, Jesus refers to himself in similar language: “I am the Root and the Offspring of David, and the bright Morning Star” (Rev. 22:16; cf. 2:28; 2 Peter 1:19).

There are several proposals as to the nature of this star.14 (1) Many suggest that it was a natural phenomenon that can be traced back to some known astronomical event, whether a comet,15 a supernova, or a conjunction of planets. One widely discussed possibility is that the attention of the Magi was attracted by an unusual conjunction of planets that occurred on May 27, 7 B.C.16 In ancient Babylonian astrology, Jupiter represented the primary deity. When Jupiter came close to Saturn (which represented the Jews), in the constellation Pisces (which represented Palestine), the Magi referred to Jupiter as the star of the king they were seeking, and the association with Saturn and Pisces showed them in which nation (the Jews) and where (Palestine) to look for him. A related suggestion draws on this conjunction but links the specific star to a supernova that Chinese and Korean astronomers recorded in March to April 5 B.C.17

(2) Others suggest that the “star” was a supernatural astral phenomenon that God used to herald Jesus’ birth. This is suggested in the text by the description of the star, which appears and reappears and moves and directs the Magi to the precise house that Jesus and his family occupied. Some suggest that perhaps only the Magi saw this starlike phenomenon.

(3) Another plausible suggestion is that the supernatural phenomenon was actually an angel sent to the Magi to announce the birth of Messiah and to guide them to Jesus so that they would be a witness to his birth through their worship. Good angels are commonly referred to as stars (e.g., Job 38:7; Dan. 8:10; Rev. 1:16, 20; 2:1; 3:1), as are fallen angels (Rev. 8:10, 11; 9:1; perhaps Isa. 14:12–13). Angels guided and protected Israel to the Promised Land (Ex. 14:19; 23:20), and they often appear in Jewish and Christian literature as guides.18 New Testament scholar Dale Allison cites the apocryphal Arabic Gospel of the Infancy 7, which expands Matthew’s account of the Magi to say, “In the same hour there appeared to them an angel in the form of that star which had before guided them on their journey.”19

This last view is consistent with the prominent place of the angel of the Lord in the overall infancy narrative: announcing to Joseph the virginal conception of Jesus (1:20), warning the Magi not to return to Herod (2:12), warning Joseph to flee with the family to Egypt (2:13), telling them to go back to Israel (2:19), and guiding them in a dream to Nazareth (2:22).

In any case, with their mixture of influence from paganism, astrology, and Jewish Scriptures, it is doubtful that the Magi knowingly come to worship Jesus in recognition of his incarnate nature as the God-man. They most likely desire to worship the “king of the Jews” in a way similar to how leading figures from a subservient country paid homage to the king of a ruling country. The Magi are giving rightful homage to Jesus as the promised ruler to arise in Israel, but their worship is far more than even they intended.20

Herod’s Cunning Duplicity (2:3–8)

APPARENTLY HEROD IS familiar with the star symbolism that was to announce the arrival of the Messiah, so he does not challenge the Magi. His first reaction at first seems surprising: “He was disturbed, and all Jerusalem with him.” Herod knows he is not the rightful heir to the Davidic kingdom; he has usurped the throne by aligning himself with Rome. So with the Magi’s announcement that they are seeking the one born king of the Jews, he probably perceives that invading forces from the east may perhaps join forces within Israel to oust him and place a king on the throne who is from the true line of the expected Messiah.

Herod has no fear of attack from the west, because that is where the Roman Empire lies, and he is the Rome-sanctioned ruler of Judea. However, he develops a profound fear of attacks from the east. During the Hasmonean struggle for supremacy between Antigonus and Hyrcanus II, Antigonus joined forces with the Parthians, an empire to the northeast of Israel, who invaded Judea and besieged Jerusalem. Herod fled to Rome, where he appealed for help to oust the Parthians and claim the throne. After recapturing Jerusalem in 37 B.C., Herod built a series of fortress-palaces all along the eastern border to ensure safety from invading forces.21 Herod also dedicated his reign and resources to a number of magnificent architectural projects. These projects often benefited his Jewish subjects, such as the rebuilding of the temple in Jerusalem, begun in 20/19 B.C. and completed in A.D. 63.

The final years of Herod’s reign were characterized by constant domestic problems. His ten wives had produced offspring who contended against each other for his throne. As he became older, he grew increasingly paranoid, and he had a number of his own family members imprisoned and executed—for example, his wife Miramne I and later her two sons, Alexander and Aristobulus. After several incidents of this sort, Caesar Augustus supposedly made the famous pun that he would rather be Herod’s pig (hys) than his son (huios).22

Not only is Herod disturbed at the arrival of the Magi, but so also is “all Jerusalem with him.” The word “Jerusalem” is the designation for the holy city (4:5; 27:53), but it also represents the religious and political leadership of Israel. The leadership may be disturbed along with Herod because they know the consequences they might suffer if he were to fly into a rage at the perceived threat of the arriving forces with the Magi. But more likely, their reaction gives a clue to the spiritual health of Israel’s leadership. They have aligned themselves politically with Herod, and if his power base is threatened, so is theirs. One would expect the religious leadership to celebrate at the report of the birth of the king of Israel, but the arrival of the true king of the Jews presents a threat to Israel’s corrupt religious and political power. From the outset of Matthew’s story, Jerusalem is potentially negative toward Jesus and joins forces with those who will soon attempt to kill him (2:16, 20).23

The central leadership of the Jews was lodged in the “chief priests” and the “teachers of the law” (grammateus). The chief priests were members of the Sanhedrin (cf. 26:57; Mark 14:53), joining the high priest in giving oversight to the temple activities, treasury, and priestly orders. The term grammateus (also trans. “scribe”) was once most closely associated with reading, writing, and making copies of the Scriptures. But by New Testament times it came to signify an expert in relation to the interpretation of law and is used interchangeably with the term “lawyer” or “expert in the law” (nomikos; cf. Matt. 23:4; Luke 11:45–46). These were the official interpreters of the Old Testament (see comments on 8:19).

Herod’s inquiry as to “where the Christ was to be born” demonstrates that the concept of “king of the Jews” (2:2) had become linked with “the Christ,” the Messiah. The religious leaders cite the prophet Micah, who centuries earlier referred to Bethlehem as not least among “the clans of Judah,” because it would be the birthplace of the future ruler, the Messiah (Micah 5:2). Their quotation also has an allusion to a famous shepherding theme cited at David’s installation as king over Israel, “You will shepherd my people Israel, and you will become their ruler” (2 Sam. 5:2).24 The prophetic expectation of the Davidic Messiah being born in Bethlehem had become widespread in Israel (cf. John 7:42). This village is twice honored, because the birthplace of David the king is now also the birthplace of Jesus the Christ, the king and shepherd of Israel.

Herod’s duplicity takes over as he secretly brings in the Magi and attempts to find out when the star had appeared to them (2:7). The need for secrecy may have been to keep the Jews who were hoping for the arrival of Messiah from warning the Magi of Herod’s treachery.25 Or perhaps if the child the Magi are seeking really is the coming Messiah, and if Herod were to eliminate the child, it would not sit well with the Jewish people. So he goes about his plans secretly so that he can be rid of the threat to his throne without the people knowing of it. It seems inconceivable that he would try to get rid of the Messiah for the sake of his own throne, but Herod was an Idumean, and any thought of a Jewish deliverer taking over his power would be ruthlessly resisted. Note too that Herod considered himself “King of the Jews.”

The distance of the Magi’s homeland from Palestine likely prevented them from knowing about Herod’s ruthless reputation, so they think that Herod sincerely wants to acknowledge the arrival of the Messiah. Herod is confident he has deceived the Magi, because he does not send an escort with them to Bethlehem, and he has no reason to doubt that they will follow through and return to tell him the child’s whereabouts. It is divine intervention that will spoil his plans.

The Magi Worship the Child (2:9–12)

THE STAR THAT led them to Palestine now apparently reappears and leads the Magi the six miles to the child in Bethlehem. The description of the activity of the star implies a supernatural phenomenon, since it is difficult to reconstruct how any form of star could go ahead of them and stop or remain over the place where the child was. Since the Magi have already been informed that the Messiah was to be born in Bethlehem, the star doesn’t so much guide them to the town but to the place in the town where the child and family are now located. This is consistent with some kind of supernatural angelic guidance (see comments on 2:2).

Jesus, with Mary and Joseph, is now in a “house” in Bethlehem. Recently excavated houses for common people from the first century era display regular features. Houses built on level ground often formed a series of rooms built around a courtyard. Included in these rooms were living spaces, which doubled as sleeping quarters, cooking area, stables, and storage rooms. Houses built in hilly areas might be two stories high. The lower floor had a courtyard surrounded by stables while the upper floor had the living/sleeping rooms. In rocky cavernous areas, the lower floor might incorporate caves or grottos into the structure as underground stables.26

The term for Jesus in 2:8, 9, 11 (also 2:13, 14, 20, 21) is “child” (paidion), which normally designates an infant or toddler.27 Since Herod will later attempt to have all boys under two years old killed, the child is now perhaps nearly two. Whether the house in which they live is the same one connected to the stable in which Jesus was born is unknown, but since the young family has stayed in Bethlehem instead of returning to Nazareth to raise their son, it implies that Joseph has arranged for permanent living quarters in a family house.

The purpose of the Magi’s pilgrimage to see the child is accomplished as they “bowed down and worshiped him” (2:11). Although they see both the child and Mary, his mother, they worship the child only. Joseph is not mentioned, even though he has, and will continue to have, a substantial role in the narrative. The true center of their attention is the infant Jesus.

The word used to describe the Magi’s “worship” is one normally reserved for the veneration of deity.28 It is a clear principle in Scripture that God alone is to receive worship, never an intermediary, not even an angel (e.g., Acts 14:11–15; Rev. 19:10). But it is doubtful that at this time these quasi-pagan religious figures understand Jesus’ divine nature. Since it took even Jesus’ closest followers some time to comprehend the nature of the Incarnation, it is doubtful that the Magi are knowingly worshiping Jesus as the God-man. Yet in spite of their blend of pagan religious background with Jewish influence, their worship is probably far more than even they understand.29 At the least they understand that this is God’s Messiah, and they worship the God of Israel through him. At the same time, their worship is a clear indictment of the Herodian leadership in Jerusalem, who will soon attempt to kill, not worship, the infant king of the Jews.

When approaching royalty or persons of high religious, political, or social status, gifts were often brought to demonstrate obeisance (Gen. 43:11–15; 1 Sam. 9:7–8; 1 Kings 10:1–2). The word “treasures” is used of the treasury of a nation (1 Macc. 3:29) or, as here, some kind of receptacle or “treasure-box,”30 used by the Magi for carrying valuables—gold, incense, and myrrh—that they present to the newborn king. This act of worship recalls Old Testament passages where leaders of Gentile nations presented gifts to the king of Israel, and it looks forward prophetically to the nations honoring the coming Messiah.31

“Gold” is the most-often mentioned valued metal in Scripture; as in modern times, it was prized throughout the ancient world as a medium of exchange as well as for making jewelry, ornaments, and dining instruments for royalty. “Incense” (or “frankincense”; cf. Lev. 2:1; 14:7; Neh. 13:9) is derived from the gummy resin of the tree Boswellia.32 The gum produced a sweet odor when burned. Frankincense was used for secular purposes as a perfume (Song 3:6; 4:6, 14), but in Israel it was used ceremonially as part of a recipe for the only incense permitted on the altar (Ex. 30:9, 34–38).33 “Myrrh” is the sap that exudes from a small tree found in Arabia, Abyssinia, and India. It consists of a mixture of resin, gum, and the oil myrrhol, which produces its characteristic odor. Sold in either liquid or solid form, myrrh was used in incense (Ex. 30:23), as a perfume for garments (Ps. 45:8; Song 3:6) or for a lover’s couch (Est. 2:13; Prov. 7:17), and as a stimulant tonic (cf. Mark 15:23). The Jews did not practice full embalming of corpses, but a dead body was prepared for burial by washing, dressing it in special garments, and packing it with fragrant myrrh and other spices to stifle the smell of a body as it decayed (John 19:39).34

There is a long history of interpretation that finds symbolic significance in these gifts in accord with Jesus’ life and ministry: e.g., gold represents his kingship, incense his deity, myrrh his sacrificial death and burial.35 But this reads too much into the Magi’s understanding of who Jesus is. Rather, these three gifts indicate the esteem with which the Magi revere the child and represent giving him the honor due him as king of the Jews. More than the Magi know or intend, these gifts are likely used to providentially support the family in their flight to and stay in Egypt.

But the danger from Herod’s paranoid jealousy of the infant king comes to the forefront as the Magi are warned in a dream not to return to him with their report (2:12). Dreams were commonly understood in the ancient world to be means of divine communication to humans (see comments on 1:20). Joseph is the primary recipient of dreams: announcing the virginal conception of Jesus (1:20), warning the family to go to Egypt (2:13), telling them to go back to Israel (2:19), and guiding them to Nazareth (2:22). In most of these an angel is specifically mentioned as the one who engages Joseph. Therefore, it seems plausible that the angel appears also in this dream to the Magi, warning them of Herod’s duplicity. If so, the warning in a dream is consistent with the view that the star guiding them was an angel, who now directs them back to their homeland.

Instead of retracing their steps through Jerusalem, where Herod awaits them, “they returned to their country by another route” (2:12).Behind the expression “they returned” is a word (anachoreo) that highlights a thematic pattern of hostility, withdrawal, and prophetic fulfillment that recurs in the narrative.36 Matthew emphasizes that in spite of recurring hostile circumstances, God’s sovereign care surrounds Jesus Messiah’s earthly life. Under the threatening cloud of hostility, the Magi avoid Herod in Jerusalem, necessitating a long detour back to their homeland.

They may have traveled south around the lower extremity of the Dead Sea to link up with the trade route north through Nabatea and Decapolis east of the Jordan River. Or they may have traveled south to Hebron and then west to the Mediterranean coast to link up with the trade route traveling north on the coastal plain. Herod’s long arm of military security covered most of even these circuitous routes, so the Magi and entourage must have traveled swiftly and as secretly as possible. Their sacrifice and endurance is profound testimony to the impact of having seen and worshiped the infant Jesus, the true king of the Jews, and the hope even of Gentile seekers.

Bridging Contexts

GOD’S SOVEREIGN CARE. Ambition, strength, and strategy are characteristics that we expect to find in those successful in politics, the military, entertainment, sports, or business. God can, and has, used those characteristics in his people throughout history as he has brought about his will on earth. Joshua’s ambition to bring the people of Israel to the Promised Land was exemplary to all the people as he followed God’s lead without wavering (Josh. 1:6–9; 23:6–11). The strength that Moses demonstrated in the face of resistant Pharaoh and over the forces of nature has stood for centuries as one of the most spectacular displays of God’s own strength (e.g., Ps. 105:23–45). The strategy that King David displayed when conquering the giant Goliath and vanquishing God’s enemies is legendary among military leaders (e.g., 1 Sam. 17:50–54; 2 Sam. 8:11–15). God can, and does, use ambition, strength, and strategy to carry out his will.

However, the unexpectedness of the infancy account signals to us that God will turn those characteristics upside down as he initiates this crucial stage of salvation history. The picture that Matthew paints of the arrival of Jesus is breathtaking in its potential but alarming in its vulnerability. Jesus is King of the Jews (2:1), Messiah (2:4), and Ruler (2:6), who will “shepherd” his people Israel (2:6). In him are localized the prophetic hopes of the people of Israel as they strain under the yoke of Rome. This is no ordinary child, but he is the ruler who will once again bring safety to the beleaguered people of God.

Yet Jesus is just a little child. He has no royal courtiers to care for him, no military guard to defend him. He has no palace or army. In fact, an ominous note is sounded. This vulnerable, humble little claimant to Israel’s throne will be threatened by the conniving tyrant, Herod. Who will care for the little future king? Who will protect him? How can he possibly survive to bring about those roles prophesied for him?

This is what makes the unexpectedness of Matthew’s story so striking. The ambition, strength, and strategy of Herod and the religious leadership of Jerusalem are contrasted with the vulnerability of the child. Herod’s entire career was marked by ruthless ambition as he deposed all the Hasmonean aspirants to the throne. He orchestrated alliances with whomever was in power in Rome so that he had the strength of the Roman military and political machines behind him. He had a callous brilliance behind his strategy, keeping at bay the competing forces in Israel through grudging gratitude for his building accomplishments, yet fear of his cruelty and hatred of his religious and political treachery. No aspirant to the throne could hope to compete with Herod—especially one so vulnerable as the infant Jesus lying helplessly in the arms of a young, peasant mother and protected only by a lowly, unproven father from the insignificant town of Nazareth.

Yet throughout the narrative, the theme that underlies all of these events is that God is in control. As he begins his redemption of humanity, his hand is on every event that transpires. The miraculous appearance of the star to Gentile Magi signaled that God was initiating messianic deliverance for Israel—and for all humanity. The child and parents are sovereignly routed to Bethlehem, his prophesied birthplace, despite living in faraway Nazareth. With a significance that they could not possibly fully comprehend, pagan Magi prostrate themselves in worship of the only One who is divinely worthy of their veneration. The humble child and parents are providentially supplied with gifts that will enable them to escape the increasingly murderous ravages of a paranoid slaughterer. And the devious plan of one of the most powerful figures in the ancient world is stymied by innocent Magi as they heed a miraculous warning in a dream. In spite of recurring hostile circumstances, God’s sovereign care is exercised in Jesus Messiah’s earthly life.

Human ambition, power, and strategy often cannot see the hand of God and unwittingly attempt to thwart his purposes. Herod and the religious leadership in Jerusalem were blinded to God’s plan of redemption because of the lust for their own plans and purposes. Their blindness then caused them to attempt to hinder God’s design. Only eyes of faith are open to see God’s activities, because he often performs behind the scenes of human history in unexpected ways to bring about his purposes.

Matthew accentuates this elegant theme at the beginning of his story so that his readers will open their eyes of faith to see the working of God in the life of Jesus Messiah. The theme of God’s sovereignty displayed in the infancy narrative sets a trajectory for Matthew’s recounting of Jesus’ entire ministry. Jesus does not operate according to typical human expectations and ambitions, he does not come with typical human power, fanfare, or fame, and he will often run counter to typical human strategies. He comes, remarkably, as a humble servant, bringing justice to both Jew and Gentile alike, offering healing and hope and a message of good news to the hurting and marginalized (cf. 12:15–21).

The unexpectedness of this kind of Messiah will potentially cause offense to even his own renowned herald, John the Baptist, who must learn to look for God’s activity in redeeming Israel and not force his own understanding on God’s Messiah (11:2–6).37 The unexpectedness of this kind of Messiah will infuriate the religious establishment of Israel, leading to their own hardhearted sin (12:22–32) and their condemnation and execution of the only One for whom they should have been looking (26:1–2). And the unexpectedness of Jesus’ redemptive, sacrificial, messianic ministry will baffle even his own disciples, for they have in mind the ways of humans, not the ways of God (16:21–23; 20:20–28).

Ambition, strength, and strategy—these characteristics are exhibited in God’s plan of salvation that is worked out in the entrance of Jesus Messiah to history. But those characteristics are displayed with divine expression, not human. Matthew focuses our attention on the fact that God is in control, even as the events surrounding his work unfold in unexpected ways.

Contemporary Significance

GOD’S LOVE—AND OURS. “She had a habit of saying little silent prayers about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: ‘Please God, make him think I am still pretty.’ ” What heart-wrenching words! Della’s knee-length, cascading, beautiful brown hair was her most prized possession, but she has just cut it off to sell to a wigmaker. She does it so she will have money to buy her beloved husband, Jim, a Christmas present. With the money from the sale of her hair she will be able to buy a gold watch chain on which Jim can hang his most prized possession, the gold watch that had been his father’s and grandfather’s.

Della and Jim are a newly wed young couple who subsist in near poverty. They have little money for finery in their hovel of an apartment, let alone for extravagant Christmas gifts. Without knowing what she has done, Jim will be coming home on Christmas Eve to find Della shorn of her beautiful hair, all to buy the gold chain for him that he cannot possibly afford to buy for himself. Will he still think her to be pretty?

But in a tear-jerking twist in this classic story told by O. Henry, we learn that Jim has sold his cherished watch to buy a set of tortoise shell combs with jeweled rims for his beloved young wife’s beautiful hair—the very set she has yearned over for so long but can never hope to buy for herself.

Della now has cropped hair, but with the finest gift her young husband could sacrifice to buy. And Jim, now has no watch, but with the most precious gift his young bride could sacrifice to bring to him for Christmas. O. Henry muses at the end of the story:

Here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these are the wisest. Of all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.38

I just reminded my wife of this story, which she had last read in college nearly thirty years ago, and immediately tears filled her eyes. That tells you as much about my wife’s tender spirit as it does about the poignancy of the story! Henry may have added a bit of an allegorical twist to his story, but he certainly touches a basic element in all of us. The very act of sacrificial giving defines what it means to love each other. The Magi in Matthew’s story may have been impelled by that kind of love in their worship and gift-giving at the arrival of the King of the Jews. It’s hard to get inside their head and heart historically to know for sure. But I think that Henry is right to extrapolate from their actions what the Magi themselves may not even have guessed fully—our sacrificial worship and love of Jesus will produce true, sacrificial love for each other.

Personal response to Jesus. Matthew is not putting down on record just another religious story. He is telling what has been famously entitled for the film screen The Greatest Story Ever Told. God has entered history in the person of Jesus Messiah, and the world has never been the same. Henry rightly recognized that all of our sacrifice is but a faint reflection of what lies behind the Christmas story. We rightfully focus on the Magi, but we certainly must focus on the sacrificial love of God, of which the apostle Paul tells us, “God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom. 5:8).

Sometimes we get caught up in sentimental images of the Christmas story: a haloed baby Jesus resting peacefully in a hay-filled trough in a quaint stall in a field near Bethlehem on a midwinter starry night with the beatific mother Mary and antiquated father Joseph, camels arriving with three Magi, all surrounded by donkeys and sheep with shepherds from the fields and an angelic host. Our purpose here is not to disrupt sentimentally held traditions but to understand clearly Matthew’s emphasis so that we can more carefully align our lives with the immense significance of the arrival of Jesus Messiah.

The purpose of the Magi’s visit was to worship the one born “king of the Jews.” True, their worship was probably homage given to Jesus as a human king, but their actions point to a deeper tribute than even they knew. Matthew has informed his readers that Jesus was divinely conceived (1:18–25), so to honor him truly is to worship the only One who is worthy of worship, God himself. Jesus is not only the “king of the Jews,” but he is also One who provides the hope of salvation for the entire world. If these Gentile Magi have recognized Jesus as Israel’s king, then the Jews should certainly acknowledge him as the Messiah.39 But will they? As Matthew turns to the response of the Jewish leadership to the Magi’s astounding announcement, he tragically records only duplicity and treachery. It is sobering to recognize that those who had the greatest opportunity to worship the true king of the Jews became pawns of the usurper, Herod.

As we reflect on our own religious and political agendas, we should also take a sober look at our own response to Jesus. It isn’t always in the accomplishments of our lives that our relationship with Jesus is measured most accurately. Every pastor or youth worker or Sunday school teacher knows how busy we can become with marking out our own activities and priorities. In the busyness of our service it is possible to lose sight of the work of God in us and around us. Are we ready to acknowledge Jesus’ presence in all the details of our lives, or do our own desires and ambitions cause us to overlook his influence?

At this most fundamental level, Matthew teaches us that Jesus’ arrival in history to initiate the salvation of his people from their sins surely requires that we give ourselves to him. When we do so, his life becomes the pattern for our own lives. The mutual self-sacrificial giving of Della and Jim is indeed a profound example for our own lives, but it is most importantly derived from the implication of the sacrifice of the Incarnation. I am awestruck when I consider that God’s giving in Jesus’ incarnation and crucifixion is the foundation and example for my own giving. The apostle Paul strikes that note when he declares, “Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her” (Eph. 5:25).

Many marriages experience what I call the “tug-of-war” syndrome, where each partner tugs to have his or her needs met by their spouse. A state of equilibrium can be attained when each has tugged hard enough so that they are relatively satisfied. But if you have ever been in a tug-of-war at a picnic, you’ll remember that the equilibrium is tenuous, because it is maintained only through the tension of an unending expenditure of energy. Many couples grow so tired of this kind of continual struggle in a relational tug-of-war that they give up.

However, instead of tugging, couples can be taught how to give. In premarital counseling I ask couples to perform an experiment. They must commit themselves for two months never to ask to have their own personal needs met but only to ask how each can meet the other’s needs. What they will discover is that the equilibrium that they attain is not one of tension but of grace. They both give to the other without being asked, and their own needs are met by receiving, not demanding. The experiment ends up in most cases as the basis of a new kind of marital relationship, in which giving is the operating guideline, not taking.

The couples usually react incredulously when I first propose the experiment. One young woman said, quite honestly, “I’m so used to nagging him I’ll never get him to help me with the wedding plans or take me out to dinner. He just doesn’t think about my needs many times.” But when they both began to understand that they were going to attempt to follow God’s pattern of grace toward us, they were both amazed at their responses to each other. He developed a whole new set of daily priorities, where he consistently asked, “What does she need today that I can supply?” And in turn, she was free to make sure that he got what he felt he needed, like the regular Saturday afternoon to play basketball with his buddies. Remarkably, he often volunteered even to give that time up if he saw that she needed him! They both found their responsibility in giving what the other needed, not demanding what they themselves needed. Instead of tugging, they learned an entirely new pattern of giving. But that kind of graceful equilibrium is made possible only by a fundamental transformation in our lives when we experience God’s giving, displayed so graphically in the little infant in Bethlehem.40

Such is the story that Matthew tells, quite in line with the verse that we know too well from the apostle John, who said, “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son” (John 3:16).