Opening:

Good morning, church! As we approach the close of another year and stand on the brink of a new beginning, let us take a moment to reflect on the passing of time, but on the truths God has revealed to us and the themes that will guide us forward. Themes of seeking, of worship, and of God’s sovereign hand directing our steps. These are the very foundation of our walk with Christ, shaping who we are and who we are becoming.  

Humanity, across every generation and every place, is marked by its search. We are seekers by nature, drawn to the pursuit of truth, purpose, identity, and belonging. But I ask you today: Where does all our seeking lead? And, more importantly, what or whom are we truly seeking?  

In Matthew chapter two, we encounter an extraordinary example of seekers: the Magi, or wise men, from the East. These men were not part of Israel’s covenant; they were foreigners, outsiders. Yet, they saw a sign in the heavens—something that stirred their spirits and compelled them to leave the comforts of home and embark on a difficult and uncertain journey. What drove them? It was more than curiosity. It was the desire to find and worship the newborn King, the Christ.  

Their story calls out to us even today. It challenges us to consider the focus of our own searching. Like the Magi, are we prepared to leave behind what is familiar, to abandon lesser pursuits, and to seek Christ above all else? Are we ready to worship Him not with scraps of our time or the leftovers of our energy but with the very best we have to give? Are we willing to follow His leading, no matter the cost?  

Here is the glorious promise for those who seek: in finding Christ, we find more than the fulfillment of our deepest desires. We find the One who is fulfillment incarnate—the Way, the Truth, and the Life.  

Let us read from the Gospel of Matthew:

Scripture Reading:

Matthew 2:1–12 ESV

Now after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, behold, wise men from the east came to Jerusalem, saying, “Where is he who has been born king of the Jews? For we saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.” When Herod the king heard this, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him; and assembling all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Christ was to be born. They told him, “In Bethlehem of Judea, for so it is written by the prophet:

“‘And you, O Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for from you shall come a ruler who will shepherd my people Israel.’”

Then Herod summoned the wise men secretly and ascertained from them what time the star had appeared. And he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, “Go and search diligently for the child, and when you have found him, bring me word, that I too may come and worship him.” After listening to the king, they went on their way. And behold, the star that they had seen when it rose went before them until it came to rest over the place where the child was. When they saw the star, they rejoiced exceedingly with great joy. And going into the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother, and they fell down and worshiped him. Then, opening their treasures, they offered him gifts, gold and frankincense and myrrh. And being warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they departed to their own country by another way.

Opening Prayer:  

Heavenly Father, we come before You today with hearts full of gratitude and awe, remembering the journey of the Magi who sought Your Son. Like them, we long to seek You with sincerity and humility. Open our eyes to the signs of Your presence and lead us to the truth found in Jesus Christ, the King of kings. As we reflect on the courage and worship of the Magi, may we, too, be willing to step out in faith, offer our best to You, and bow in worship before Your throne. Fill this time with Your Spirit, and may our hearts be drawn closer to You as we celebrate the gift of Your Son. In Jesus’ name, we pray. Amen.  

I. Seeking the King (Matthew 2:1–2)

In Matthew 2, we are introduced to the Magi. These were scholars, astrologers, and sages who studied the heavens, explored ancient texts, and advised rulers. Though the Gospel tells us they came “from the east” (Matthew 2:1), we are not directly told where they originated. Historical clues suggest they likely hailed from Persia or Babylon; regions known for their advanced astronomy, mathematics, and philosophy.

But what could inspire such learned men to undertake such a long and difficult journey, spanning hundreds, perhaps thousands, of miles? The answer lies in a strange heavenly occurrence: a new star had appeared. For the Magi, stars were more than distant lights; they were symbols of heavenly communication, often heralding royal births or shifts in world powers. Yet this star was different. Its appearance compelled them to leave their homes, brave the dangers of travel, and search for answers in a far-off land. 

Once they reached Jerusalem, they naturally went to the house of Herod asking:

“Where is He who has been born King of the Jews?” (Matthew 2:2, ESV).

This question reveals that the Magi had some familiarity with Jewish prophecy. Centuries earlier, the Jewish exile to Babylon had brought Hebrew Scriptures and beliefs to the East. Prophets like Daniel had proclaimed God’s sovereignty over nations, foretelling a ruler whose reign would never end. As the Daniel had prophesied long ago: 

“Blessed be the name of God forever and ever, to whom belong wisdom and might. He changes times and seasons; He removes kings and sets up kings; He gives wisdom to the wise and knowledge to those who have understanding” (Daniel 2:20-21, ESV). 

Daniel also described a vision of this future King: 

“I saw in the night visions, and behold, with the clouds of heaven there came one like a son of man, and He came to the Ancient of Days and was presented before Him. And to Him was given dominion and glory and a kingdom, that all peoples, nations, and languages should serve Him; His dominion is an everlasting dominion, which shall not pass away, and His kingdom one that shall not be destroyed” (Daniel 7:13-14, ESV).

But these prophecies did not start with Daniel. Even pagan prophecies, like those from Balaam’s oracle from the book of Numbers, may have guided the Magi’s understanding: 

“I see Him, but not now; I behold Him, but not near: a star shall come out of Jacob, and a scepter shall rise out of Israel; it shall crush the forehead of Moab and break down all the sons of Sheth” (Numbers 24:17, ESV).

These prophetic texts perhaps shaped the Magi's interpretation of the star. While their understanding may have been incomplete, they recognized enough to discern that this celestial sign announced a King unlike any other whose coming would alter the course of history.

II. Worshiping the King (Matthew 2:9–11)

After a disheartening detour in Jerusalem, the Magi’s journey took them to Bethlehem—a town of little renown, small in stature and modest in reputation. By the standards of the world, Bethlehem was an afterthought, a place that would never have drawn the attention of such esteemed scholars. And yet, in God’s divine plan, it was here, in the humblest of settings, that the King of kings chose to make His entrance into the world. Foretold by the prophets, this unassuming town became the stage for the most profound moment in history.  

Under ordinary circumstances, Bethlehem might have been dismissed as insignificant or beneath notice, a place unworthy of such a royal visit. But this was no ordinary journey, and the child the Magi sought was no ordinary king. They did not find a grand palace adorned with riches or a king seated upon a gilded throne. Instead, they came to a modest dwelling and encountered a vulnerable child in the arms of His mother, Mary.  

There was no royal court to receive them, no procession of attendants, no outward display of majesty. Yet the Magi—men of wisdom, power, and influence—recognized in this child a greatness that far surpassed any earthly ruler. Without hesitation, they fell to their knees and worshiped Him. In that moment, they revealed to us the true essence of worship: a posture of humility before the eternal majesty of Christ.  

Notice that these were men who were themselves honored and respected in their own right, men unaccustomed to bowing before anyone. Yet here they knelt before a child who held none of the outward signs of power or authority. Why? Because true worship transcends appearances and human measures of greatness. It is not about what we see with our eyes but what we discern with our hearts—that we stand before One infinitely worthy of our reverence, adoration, and devotion.  

Notice also that the Magi’s worship was also costly. They did not come empty-handed but brought treasures of great value: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Each gift carried profound significance. Gold, the currency of kings, proclaimed Jesus as the true King who reigns over all. Frankincense, used in temple worship, signified His divinity, affirming that this child was not merely a human monarch but God incarnate. Myrrh, a spice associated with burial, foreshadowed His sacrificial death, pointing to the reality that His kingdom would be established not through conquest but through the cross. Together, these gifts painted a picture of Jesus as King, God, and Savior. 

But these gifts also present a challenge to us. They ask us to consider: What do we bring to Christ? In today’s world, worship can sometimes become casual, self-centered, or devoid of sacrifice. We may come to God seeking what He can give us, rather than offering Him our very best. Yet true worship, as the Magi demonstrated, is a giving of ourselves—our time, our resources, our hearts. As King David declared, “I will not offer burnt offerings to the Lord my God that cost me nothing” (2 Samuel 24:24, ESV). Worship ought not to be an afterthought or a convenience. It is an intentional act of surrender and devotion, an acknowledgment of God’s infinite worth.  

But how do we bring gifts to Christ today? We cannot kneel before Him in Bethlehem as the Magi did. Yet we are invited to honor Him through our acts of love and service to others. This idea is beautifully illustrated in Henry Van Dyke’s classic story, “The Other Wise Man.”  

In this fictional tale, Van Dyke imagines a fourth Magi, who, like the others, sold his possessions to purchase precious gifts for the Messiah: a sapphire, a ruby, and a pearl of great value. Setting out to meet the others, the fourth Magi was delayed when he stopped to care for a dying man. His compassion cost him the chance to join his companions, and he was forced to sell his sapphire to fund his journey.  

Years later, in Bethlehem, the fourth Magi arrived just as Herod’s soldiers were carrying out the massacre of the innocents. He used his ruby to bribe the soldiers and save a child’s life, but once again, a gift meant for the King was gone. Undeterred, the fourth Magi continued his search for Christ, journeying far and wide. Along the way, he poured out his resources to feed the hungry, heal the sick, and free the oppressed.  

Finally, decades later, the fourth Magi arrived in Jerusalem during the crucifixion of Christ. He sought to offer his last treasure, the pearl, to ransom the King. But on his way, he encountered a young woman being sold into slavery. Compassion moved him once more, and he gave the pearl to purchase her freedom. As an earthquake shook the city, the fourth Magi realized he had missed his chance to meet the Messiah.  

On his deathbed, the fourth Magi lamented that he had spent his life seeking the King yet never found Him. But then he heard a voice, the voice of Christ, saying:  

“Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these, my brothers, you did it to me.”  

In that moment, the fourth Magi understood. Every act of love, every life saved, every burden lifted—these were gifts offered to the King. He had been serving Christ all along.  

This story is a parable for us. If we, like the Magi, wish to offer our treasures to Christ, we do so by serving those in need. Every time we feed the hungry, clothe the naked, comfort the broken, or visit the lonely, or share the gospel with the perishing, we lay our gifts at His feet.  

True worship is not confined to singing hymns or attending services. It is a daily surrender, a pursuit of Christ in the ordinary opportunities to love and serve others. As we bow our hearts before Him, may we remember that when we honor Christ by caring for the least of these, we are offering Him the greatest gift we can give: our lives poured out in love. And in seeking Him with all we have, we find that He Himself is our ultimate treasure—the King, the Savior, the Lord of all.  

III. God’s Sovereign Hand in Salvation (Matthew 2:12)

As we have seen, the Magi braved vast distances and endured countless hardships to bestow honor and glory upon a child. But as our journey through this account draws to a close, we must turn our gaze to another figure—one whose response to Christ stands in stark contrast to that of the Magi. Herod, the so-called "Great," did not see Jesus as a Savior to be adored but as a threat to be eliminated. His story reveals the dividing line that Christ's coming creates, forcing every soul to choose: to bow in humble reverence or to resist in prideful defiance.

Herod’s refusal to seek the Messiah unveils a heart enslaved by self-interest. Though he lived mere miles from Bethlehem and possessed knowledge of the Scriptures, he would not make even a short journey to meet the newborn Messiah. Instead, he cloaked his intentions in deceit, telling the Magi, “Go and search diligently for the child, and when you have found Him, bring me word, that I too may come and worship Him” (Matthew 2:8, ESV). But his feigned piety concealed a dark intent: to destroy the child he feared as a rival.

Herod’s life is a study in the tragedy of misplaced ambition. Known for his architectural marvels, including the grand renovation of the Temple in Jerusalem, Herod’s legacy is stained with paranoia and bloodshed. His ascent to power, secured under Rome’s patronage, was marked by cunning and cruelty. Yet, beneath his grandeur lay a heart consumed by fear and self-preservation. He executed his wife, Mariamne, and at least three of his sons, unable to tolerate even the shadow of potential disloyalty.

Herod’s most infamous act, the Massacre of the Innocents, is a grim testament to his character. In a desperate bid to extinguish the light of a child called the “King of the Jews,” Herod ordered the slaughter of Bethlehem’s male children, two years old and under. Sadly this atrocity is consistent with Herod's life—a life driven by the relentless pursuit of power at any cost.

His story is not just history; it is a mirror reflecting the rebellion of the human heart against God’s rule. Herod’s actions echo the choices of Adam and Eve in Eden, a futile attempt to assert independence from the Creator. And like all rebellion, it led not to fulfillment but to ruin. Herod’s final years were marked by excruciating physical suffering and a paranoia that consumed him. Despite all his achievements, his refusal to bow to God left him alienated, despised, and destroyed by the very pride he sought to preserve.

Herod’s life is a cautionary tale—a stark warning that clinging to our own fragile kingdoms leads only to despair. Yet even in his story, we find a glimmer of hope. For though Herod sought to thwart God’s plan, he failed. The Magi, warned in a dream, evaded his schemes, departing “by another way” (Matthew 2:12, ESV). And the Christ Child, under divine protection, fulfilled the prophecy that no power of earth or hell could overthrow. As Proverbs declares, “There is no wisdom, no insight, no plan that can succeed against the Lord” (Proverbs 21:30, ESV).

The contrast between Herod and the Magi demands our attention. It forces us to examine our own hearts. Will we, like the Magi, humble ourselves and seek Jesus? Or will we, like Herod, cling to our ambitions, resisting His rightful rule? Herod’s life stands as a solemn reminder: those who oppose Christ may grasp at power for a moment, but they forfeit the eternal life He offers. As Jesus warned, “For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul?” (Matthew 16:26, ESV).

The Magi invite us to take a different path—a path of wisdom and worship. They remind us that the treasures of this world pale in comparison to the joy of knowing Christ. Their journey challenges us to reorient our desires, to lay our ambitions, our comforts, and our hearts at the feet of the true King. For in Him alone is found the peace and fulfillment that no earthly kingdom can provide.

And so, we stand at the crossroads. Like the Magi, will we bow and offer our devotion to Christ, recognizing Him as the sovereign King? Or will we, like Herod, resist His reign in a futile bid to hold on to what cannot last? The choice is ours—but only one path leads to life.

Closing Prayer:  

Father God, as we conclude this time of worship and reflection, we thank You for the example of the Magi, whose journey reminds us that seeking You is the highest calling of our lives. Help us to worship You not only with our words but also with our actions, bringing gifts of love, service, and devotion to those in need. Guard our hearts against pride and distraction, and guide our steps by Your sovereign hand, as You guided the Magi so long ago. May we leave here with renewed purpose and joy, walking in obedience and faithfulness, always seeking to glorify You. In the name of Jesus, our Savior and King, we pray. Amen.