v.1 Herod is generally thought to have died in 4 B.C. (The date of the Lord's birth was not calculated for the sake of the calendar until centuries later. In fact it was not until A.D. 533 that Dionysius Exiguus (Denis the Short!) proposed to reckon years no longer from the founding of Rome but from the birth of Christ. And he got it wrong by a few years.

v.2 "Magi" is a term designating astrologers or magicians who were very numerous, at this time, in the countries of western Asia, i.e. "the east." We have a reference to another "magos" in Acts 13:6, whom Paul and Barnabas encountered on Cyprus. Simon, the magician, or Simon Magus, in Acts 8 was such a magician, that is, not a man who does tricks, but a man who reads the stars, interprets dreams, and is skilled in other secret arts. The Bible, of course, doesn't have any time for any of this, often scorns it as mostly a lot of blarney, but, such is what these men were.

Now, the reference to the star has been a matter of intense interest almost since the event itself. Attempts to identify this "star" in terms of known astronomical phenomenon also go way back and usually reduce to some form of one of three alternatives: 1) a conjunction of two planets -- Saturn and Jupiter -- which is known to have occurred in 7 B.C.; 2) a comet, usually Halley's, which, for this purpose, unfortunately occurred too early (12/11 B.C.); 3) a nova -- a star that, because of an explosion, temporarily burns very brightly. For example, in an article in the Quarterly Journal of the Royal Astronomical Society in 1977, three astronomers identified the Magi's star as a nova which Chinese astronomers are known to have observed for 70 days in 5/4 B.C. These explanations, though perhaps a part of the story, would not account for what the Magi took to be the moving of the star as we will read in v. 8. Matthew obviously understands something supernatural to be at work, however much natural phenomenon may have played a role.

v.3 Herod was paranoid at this time in his life, had already killed two of his own sons whom he feared had designs on his throne. But, being an Edomite, not a Jew, and being a Roman appointee, he did have something to fear from a king who had a legitimate claim to Davidic succession. All Jerusalem was concerned, perhaps because of what the people may well have feared Herod's reaction to be, but Matthew may also be preparing us for the hostility to Jesus that will be demonstrated later in the Gospel. Already they were unprepared for any king and unwelcoming of any king who did not meet their expectations.

v.6 Matthew cites Micah 5:2 freely, really interpreting the verse as much as citing it and conflating the second half of the verse with wording taken from 2 Samuel 5:2.

v.8 Herod's dark and completely hypocritical request -- he intended, of course, to kill the child, not worship him -- would be understood by locals, but not by these foreigners. Bishop Hall, the 17th century Anglican, writes in his Contemplations: "There is no villany so great, but it will mask itself under a show of piety." [415]

v.9 How it did so no one knows. But like Israel in the wilderness, God led them by light. As Bishop Hall says, "All his directions partake of that light which is in him: for God is light." [415]

v.11 The word "child" (paidion) is used instead of "baby" (brephos), but the word "child" is used in Luke 2:27 of Jesus only forty days after his birth.

These were gifts fit for a king and we remember the Queen of Sheba presenting such gifts to Solomon. The OT speaks of the nations bringing their gifts -- even mentions these gifts in particular -- to the Messiah.

v.12 The magi followed the Lord at the beginning of this account -- it is perhaps likely they had received some vision or knew something of the Jewish expectation of the coming of the King of Kings, because, while they followed the star, they knew already they were seeking the "king of the Jews", as they told Herod. And now, at the end of the account, they obey again.

Now, just a word about the historicity of this account. Many modern folk, including biblical scholars -- many of whom study the Bible but have no true faith in its message -- just as those biblical scholars in Jerusalem had no faith in the text they themselves gave to the magi --, argue that this is a myth, a pious legend. But, as a matter of fact, apart from the star, there is nothing in the history that is at all improbable. Suetonius and Dio Cassius tell us of a comparable visit to Nero by eastern Magi in A.D. 66. It fits history's account of King Herod perfectly. And, it was scarcely a story that the church would invent, given its antipathy to magicians and astrologers. Of course, it gains its authority from the authority and the reliability of the entire NT as an historical document and there are a great many arguments for taking the NT seriously as history, quite apart from the fact that the Holy Spirit himself persuades his people to do so by speaking from that NT with an authority the soul cannot deny.

* * * *

I wonder how many sermons have been preached through the centuries on the various responses to Christ, to the announcement of his birth, that are illustrated in this history of the magi. I have been reading over the past several weeks a collection of advent sermons preached by Lancelot Andrewes, the saintly Anglican bishop, one of the translators of the King James Bible, and the author of the celebrated Private Devotions that many of you have used with profit over the years. The volume I have been reading -- a gift from Mr. Hannula who got it on Covenant High School's trip to England last Spring -- contains seventeen sermons, each of which was preached on a Christmas Day, in the years from 1605 to 1624, to the royal court and in the presence of King James I. James, if you recall, had been raised in theologically sophisticated Scotland of the Reformation era and, though disreputable as a professed Christian, fancied himself as something of a theologian. These sermons would disappoint you, I'm afraid. They may have pleased James, but they wouldn't please a congregation today. They seem very dry, full of lengthy argument, lots of Latin and Greek sprinkled throughout. Still, I've found Andrewes, who was undoubtedly a wise and godly man and a most careful student of the Bible, has many good things to say. And, in any case, in his sermon on Matthew 2 and the magi Andrewes takes exactly the same tack that countless preachers took before him and have taken after him.

He sees the magi as an example of how everyone ought to respond to the good news that the Messiah is born, has come into the world. The theologians, knowledgeable as they were, couldn't be bothered to travel the three miles to Bethlehem to see if there might be some truth to the extraordinary claim the magi made. And frankly, that is the case with most people. They never really give much serious thought to the deepest questions and issues of life. Here is the extraordinary claim, that a Savior has come into the world, with all the glory and power of God but all the shared experience of a man; that he can save men and women from their sins; that trust in him and following him will bring men and women back to God and finally to heaven itself and everlasting life. I say, that is an extraordinary message. Perhaps it is, in some ways, difficult to believe. It is all so supernatural! Still such staggering things are claimed to have happened. Could this really be true? Can we believe it at the end of the 20th century? Well, a great many highly sophisticated and educated people do not believe it; but a great many sophisticated and highly educated people do believe it and are as sure that the magi knew what they were talking about as they are sure of their own existence. Why do they believe? How can they believe? These seem to be such obvious questions and such important questions. After all, nothing less than eternal life is at stake!

But most people can't be bothered, and, alas, they will go to their graves refusing to give any serious thought to these questions. They can't be bothered with the Savior of the world, they have, apparently, bigger fish to fry! Just like the theologians in Jerusalem, they can't be bothered to take pains over their souls and the Savior of the world.

But, then, there are others just like Herod, whose rebellion against God and God's rule and God's holiness expresses itself not in polite indifference, as is the case with so many, but active hostility, who wish to do away with the Savior and destroy his kingdom. There have always been those also in the world and there are a goodly number of them -- whether materialists like Ted Turner and the officials of the Chinese government, or religionists such as Islamic militants in Pakistan and Egypt.

But, then, there are the magi, and multitudes like them, who, by the grace of God, receive some word of the Savior, believe that word, and follow it until it has led them to his feet, where with joy they worship Him who came to save them from their sins. And so Andrewes in his sermon. Commending the magi to King James' imitation, he at least was bold enough to say:

"And we, what should [i.e. would] we have done? Sure these men of the east will rise in judgment against the men of the West, (Matt. viii. 11), that is us, and their faith against ours in this point. With them it was but vidimus, venimus; (we saw, we came); with us it would have been but veniemus (we will go) at most. Our fashion is to see and see again before we stir a foot, specially if it be to the worship of Christ. Come such a journey at such a time? No; but fairly have put it off to the spring of the year, till the days longer, and the ways fairer, and the weather warmer, till better travelling to Christ. Our Epiphany [Christmas] would sure have fallen in Easter-week at the soonest."

And he goes on.

But then for the distance, desolateness, tediousness, and the rest, any of them were enough to mar our venimus (we came) quite. It must be not great way, first, we must come; we love not that. Well fare the shepherds, yet they came but hard [i.e. close] by; rather like them than the Magi. Nay, not like them [n]either. For with us the nearer, lightly the farther off; our proverb is you know, 'The nearer the Church, the farther from God.'" [Sermons on the Nativity, 253-254]

Now, I wonder what King James thought about that when he heard that sermon, for the first time, on Christmas Day, the year of our Lord 1622. Did he see himself in those words? Did he compare himself with the Magi and realize that they were not only much more prompt in their seeking after the Lord than he was, but altogether more serious and more delighted at the opportunity to know the Lord and to have him as one's Savior and Master than he was, notwithstanding all of his religious background and his interest in theological questions?

But whatever James I's reaction to this text and the example of the Magi may have been, today's question is: what is ours?

Are we, you and I, prepared to drop everything at the first sign of the presence of Christ and go to him, in our hearts and with our lives, to lay down the gift of ourselves at his feet and worship Him as Lord, King, and Savior?

Will we, do we, like those wise men, make our homage to Christ the principle business of our lives, whatever the cost?

For this, it seems to me, is the great burden of this history insofar as it is an illustration of the various human responses to the gospel and to the Messiah. There is but one right and true response, and it is the response the magi made: immediate obedience, readiness to follow God's directions wherever they lead. They followed the star across the desert; they went home by another route. But in all things, they responded with heart and mind and strength to the message they had received from God -- and their blessing for that, was that they saw the infant King and were able to worship him, and went home praising God that they, Gentiles from far away, had found the Savior of the world and salvation through Him.

The difference is not that some show piety and others do not; for the theologians made a great show of piety. It is not that some belong to the house of God and others do not for the theologians not only belonged to the house of God, but were rulers in that house. It is not that some do great works for the house of God, for Herod had done that, magnificently remodeling and enlarging the temple during his reign. The difference is certainly not that some are long connected with the Word of God, their families have deep roots in the history of the church, for, though the theologians had that, the Gentile magi didn't have that at all, they were strangers, people Jews would have looked down on both for their being Gentiles and for their silly and profane occupation -- astrologers, enchanters, magicians -- things the law of Moses forbade. Nor is the difference that some seem well disposed to God and others hateful toward him. For the line that separates these groups of people is not drawn between Herod on the one side and the magi and priests and teachers of the law on the other; the line is drawn between the magi on the one side and the priests and teachers and Herod on the other.

No, what distinguishes these folk spiritually speaking, in terms of the gospel and Christ and salvation, is that when the Word of God came to the magi -- foreign as it was to all they had known before -- they believed it and, believing, they acted upon it, even though the actions required were difficult and demanding; while, when the news came to the priests and to Herod they did not commit their lives to it, they did not allow that Word to change their lives, they were not willing to drop everything to respond in real sincerity and genuineness to the news about Jesus Christ.

And that is the difference still today. It is not a difference of IQ or of personality or of personal background or life situation. It is this and this only: when I encounter the word of God, the news about Jesus Christ as the King of Kings and the Savior of the world, do I really believe it, believe it so as to act upon it, so as to act upon it no matter what, come wind, come weather, to act and then to keep acting, all the days of my life?

For surely, if the Word about Jesus Christ is really believed, believed in the heart and in the mind, then one will act, must act. For that word is that he is the living God, the King of Kings, the Judge of all men, the light of the world, and the Savior of mankind, and no man can come to the father and to heaven except by him. Surely if that is believed, it must become the great animating, controlling, determining conviction of one's life. And here then is the challenge this wonderful history presents to each one of us: am I such a person as these magi were? I know much more of Christ than they did, I have the whole NT before me. But, then, the theologians knew much more than they did, and their knowledge did them no good because they did not have a true faith. But have I the faith of the magi, the conviction, the readiness to believe and to act, to rearrange my life, root and branch, for the sake of the Savior who has come, and do I consider it my greatest privilege as well as duty in life, to lay my gifts, my life, my energies, my talents, my money, my children, my career, my aspirations, my love, my heart at his feet in worship, because I know him to be my King and because I know him to be my Savior?

Let me give you this illustration. This same thing happens countless times all over the world, it happens here in this congregation times without number. But it is easier to see and to note and to consider when it happens in situations more stark, more unexpected. I am speaking of a man or womanresponding to the Word of God and his life being transformed from top to bottom as a result.

Many of you have read of Henry Martyn, one of the greatest heroes of the early missionary enterprise when it began again in the early years of the 19th century. Martyn was perhaps the brightest light in that galaxy of spiritual young men who sat at the feet of Charles Simeon in Cambridge when they were students at the University, absorbing not only the full-blooded gospel from the great preacher, but missionary zeal as well. Indeed, Martyn, upon his graduation and ordination, served as Simeon's assistant for two years. Martyn eventually went to India. He served there only some five years, though his erudition in languages was so great that, although he knew nothing of the language when he arrived, he produced a valuable translation of the NT into Hindi in that brief time. He planned to return to England for a recruiting visit, in hopes of reunion and perhaps marriage with the woman he loved and had left behind, and to recover his own health which had been severely damaged in India, and so made a cross country trip through Persia. There he paused, worked on a Persian translation of the Bible, engaged in apologetics and evangelism among the Muslim doctors of theology, then finally, making his way onward toward home, he fell ill in what is now Turkey, some seventy miles south of the Black Sea and died there.

When he was still in India, working in the town of Cawnpore, where our own Frank and Esther Fiol worked for so many years, he often gathered a crowd of beggars around his bungalow door and would preach to them of Christ who had come and was coming again. But one day, as it happened, an Indian Court official was present, perhaps he had simply been walking by. In any case, he stopped to listen, but only to deride, to scorn both the message and the messenger.

But, wholly unbeknownst to Henry Martyn, the words he heard that day about Jesus Christ, the Savior of those who trust in him, and one, indeed, the only one, truly able to save us from our sins, took root and brought this Indian official in time to the Savior himself. After Martyn has left India, he presented himself for baptism, a daring thing in itself for a Hindu in those days, and then gave up his large income and position of prestige for a catechist's pay of sixty rupees per month. In due time he received ordination as an Anglican priest. He was Henry Martyn's only Indian convert, so far as we know, and Martyn himself never knew it.

But Bishop Reginald Heber, the Anglican missionary statesman of India in those early days, and the author of the hymn "The Son of God Goes Forth to War", tells in his Indian Journal of meeting this man, who had taken a new name at his baptism: Abdul Messeeh, "The Servant of the Messiah." Heber, a devout man himself, speaks of how greatly struck he was by this man's noble Christian character.

Just like the magi, a Gentile far from the place where most followers of Christ were to be found, he heard of the Messiah, and believing, he responded not in indifference and not in fear of the consequences of the Lord Christ's reign, but in submission, grateful and cheerful trust and love, and a life of self-sacrificing service and worship. And he was not only the happier for it immediately, the much, much happier -- see the magi overjoyed in v. 10 -- but happy beyond words now, where they, Gentiles, once strangers to the covenant of God, have now sat down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of God.

In whose example do you find yourself this morning? Oh, my friends, there is joy and salvation in the magi's way, follow it to Christ and to all that Christ gives, no, lavishes on those who come to him!