Christmas 2, 2026
Jeremiah 31:7-14
Ephesians 1:3-6,15-19a
Matthew 2:1-12
Psalm 84:1-8
They left for their own country by another road. —Mt. 2:12
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
Isn't it strange that Matthew tells us, “When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him.” All Jerusalem with him? Like we usually have this image of Herod being a little bit crazy, but also being kind of a loner. A King Lear figure, if you will. So what’s with the “all Jerusalem with him” talk?
Well, sometimes for fun at this time of year, I skim through the writings of the first-century Jewish historian, Flavius Josephus. (And the phrase you’re all looking for right now is, “church nerd.”)
And reading through Josephus’ history, you get a real sense that Jerusalem was in constant turmoil at the time Jesus was born. The Romans would do something provocative, and the Jews would rise up with violence. Then the Romans would retaliate and crucify hundreds of Jews, or chop off their heads. And then the Romans would go and put up a statue of Caesar in the Temple or something, and it would all start again. For decades this powder keg kept smoldering, and everyone was always on edge, fearing that something big might happen.
And in that setting, in that incredibly tense time, along come these random visitors from the east, asking King Herod, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews?” That is precisely NOT the kind of question anyone wanted Herod to hear in Jerusalem at that time. So, to me, it really does make sense that Herod was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him. Of course Herod was frightened for different reasons than everyone else. He was a man obsessed with power—to the point of having his own family killed—so his main concern was any challenge to his kingship. As far as “all Jerusalem” was concerned, they just didn’t want any more trouble. They’d seen quite enough already.
So that’s the setting. Meanwhile, as I have been telling you, Matthew wrote his gospel for a mostly Jewish audience, while Mark wrote for the Romans, and Luke wrote for the Gentiles—broadly speaking. And that’s why almost the entire first chapter of Matthew is given over to the Genealogy, showing that Joseph is descended from the line of David. But if you start reading from the first verse of Matthew, you get that genealogy, and then the narrator explains that Jospeh had a dream, and then Jesus is born, and they name him Jesus. Up until that point, no one has said a word. It’s all history, and explanation, and narration.
But then, finally, a human being speaks, and that first person to say anything asks, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews?” Those are the first words spoken in Matthew. Not spoken by Herod, or Mary, or Joseph, but by these outsiders, who have come from the east. A gospel book, written for Jews, where the opening line is delivered by anonymous astrologers who have come from somewhere in the east. People from a foreign land and a foreign faith are looking for Jesus, and they are the first to utter a word in Matthew. I don’t know what it means exactly, but it sure seems notable, doesn’t it?
Now, as I’ve told you before, we don’t really know anything about these visitors. Since they offer three gifts, at some point we decided there were three of them. And because of certain paintings and Christmas Carols, they’ve been upgraded to kings. And some Church writers have even given them names: Balthazar, Caspar, and Melchior. But we don’t know any of that from the actual Bible. In the original text, they are called Magi, which is where we get our words magic, and magician. It’s possible they were actually Zoroastrian priests, from Persia. But no matter who they were, or where they’re from, we know they were into astrology, because that’s how they know Jesus has been born: by looking at the stars.
I think it is also significant that they were outsiders, because of the stuff I mentioned earlier. Anyone living in Jerusalem would know that the one person you don’t go to and ask “Where is the new king?” would be the current, crazy, murderous King Herod! They come in innocence, and in ignorance of the local turmoil. They just want to pay homage to the new king, and are completely oblivious to the powder keg they’re walking into. So, they come to Herod, of all people, completely innocent and naive.
But Herod is anything but innocent and naive. As we heard, he calls together all his experts, the chief priests and the scribes, and asks where the child is to be born. Then, he secretly calls for the Magi, and asks them when the child is to be born. So, like any good deceptive ruler holding onto power, Herod is the only one with both pieces of information, right? He knows when and he knows where, but nobody else does. Except that he tells the innocent and naive Magi to go to Bethlehem, so now they also know. And he sends the Magi away, out to find the baby.
And they see that the star comes to rest over the place where the child was born. Which leads me to the main thing I want to say this morning . . .
These Magi, wise men, kings, astrologers, whatever, they started this whole journey in a foreign land with a foreign religion. Whatever their faith, they most certainly were not Jewish. They were not counted among God’s chosen people. And they followed a sign that meant something in their own religion—which you notice, means nothing to anyone else in the story. This is a clear message—bright as a star—that God is working through this other religion.
The wise men come to Jesus through their own faith system. I can’t put it any plainer than that. God is using their belief in the portent of stars to lead them to Jesus. They followed the light, and they found the Messiah. And found him FIRST, I might add. We don’t know what the experience did to them or what it meant to them. There’s no record that they converted to the Jewish faith. And it is doubtful that they did, because they went back home. They left for their own country by another road.
And here is what I take that to mean. However we come to Jesus, whatever path leads us to Jesus, whatever faith leads us to God, we go back home by another road. We are changed. No matter where we come from or how we got here, when we find ourselves kneeling down before Jesus and offering the gifts we have, we go home by another road. God is not beneath using astrology, or mythology—maybe even scientology!—to bring people to Jesus. God is always luring everyone to the manger in Bethlehem, whatever it takes. Everyone.
Sometimes it’s angels and all the host of heaven appearing to shepherds in a field. And sometimes it’s an obscure astrological event that only magicians understand. And sometimes it’s a wedding or concert held in a church sanctuary at the corner of Oak and Third Street in downtown Massillon. But God is always calling. Everybody.
Perhaps you’ve seen that bumper sticker that says, “Wise men still seek him.” And I think it’s true, as do wise women, and wise children. But I would add, so do kings, and magicians, and Zoroastrians, and astrologers, and everyone who seeks the truth. And we have this story from Matthew to remind us that anyone who honestly searches after God, will make their way to Jesus. If they look for him, they will find him.
And, like us, they will return to their own country . . . but by another road. Because when we encounter this baby, this God in the flesh, the savior of the world, we are changed. We are changed, and everything is different, no matter how we got here. Everyone is welcome; no exceptions.
Amen. And Merry Christmas!
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