Strangers

Matthew 2:1-12

December 14, 2025 • Mount Pleasant UMC

Eleven days. That’s how long you have to get your Christmas gifts purchased and wrapped, Pastor Rick. Eleven days. Of course, these days you can just get on Amazon, find someone’s wish list, click “purchase” and with prime shipping have it in a matter of hours or at most a couple of days. I guess you know now how I did my Christmas shopping! Mostly gone are the days where you go to the store, agonize over the options, and then wonder if they really do like it or not. But it is an odd thing we do, isn’t it? We give gifts to each other on a day that is not our birthday. Because it isn’t. Christmas is Jesus’ birthday, or at least when we celebrate his birth, and we say we give gifts because the so-called wise men gave gifts. But they gave gifts to Jesus, though I don’t know that the gifts they gave would have been on Mary and Joseph’s Amazon wish list.

This morning, we’re continuing our Advent series looking at some of the folks who are “Unlikely,” people who maybe shouldn’t have had any reason to be at or involved with the birth of Jesus. Last week, we looked at the horrific story of King Herod and his reaction to the arrival (and departure) of the wise men. Today we’re going to back up in that story and look at the wise men themselves. Of all the people in the nativity stories, they might just be the most unlikely because they were outsiders, strangers, people from far away not just culturally but spiritually as well.

We call these strangers by various names. Many of us, maybe most of us, grew up hearing them called “kings” because of the Christmas carol, “We three kings of orient are…” Nowhere in Scripture are they called kings, although they probably are representatives of the king of Persia, whether officially or unofficially (cf. Keener, Matthew [IVPNTC], pg. 65). Somewhere in the third century, someone started identifying them with the “kings” that the Old Testament predicted would worship the Messiah. But they weren’t actually kings. The word in Matthew is “magi,” from which we get the word “magician,” but they weren’t magicians like we know, doing illusions or sleight of hand tricks. Think of these magi as advisors to the king, part of the priestly community of their religion (NIV Application Commentary One Volume Edition, pg. 733), wise men whose advice could be relied upon when making difficult decisions. Part of how they helped make those decisions was by consulting the stars, the position of planets and objects in the sky, so sometimes they are called astrologers as well. Obviously, hey had a lot of roles, and there were probably more than three of them though how many actually made the trek following the star from Persia (modern-day Iran) to Israel is unknown.

Exactly what their faith was is also unknown, but it most likely centered on Persian gods. Apparently though they had a familiarity or some sort of influence from the Jewish faith (NIV Application 733), an influence that went all the way back to Daniel in the Old Testament. Yes, that Daniel who spent the night hanging out with a bunch of lions. He was part of the group that was taken away from Judea into Persia and became—yes, a magi, an advisor to the king. When the king demanded that everyone pray to him, Daniel refused, praying only to the one true God. That choice meant he nearly became lion chow. But God protected him and he ended up being a valuable advisor to the king (cf. Daniel 6). Most scholars trace any influence the Jewish faith had on Persia back to that moment, and that influence had caused these magi to be on the lookout for a star. Not just any star, but the star. The ancients believed that great events in the heavens indicated something important happening on earth, but there was also a prophecy in the Old Testament that said, “A star will come out of Jacob; a scepter will rise out of Israel” (Numbers 24:17). A scepter—a king! And somehow, these magi associated that prophecy with an especially bright star they saw in the sky at the time of Jesus’ birth. And they believed it so strongly that they set out on what would turn out to be a 2-year journey to find the one the star pointed toward.

Can you imagine something so important, so powerful that you would give over two years of your life traveling to find it? And then they had to travel back home, so most likely they were gone for four years. Four years! What do we believe in so strongly that we would give that much of our life to pursue it? That’s what these magi did. They packed up supplies and headed west, not knowing if or when they would ever return home. How would you describe that kind of determination?

So following the star apparently can only get them so far. Without knowing it, they arrive just a few miles short of their goal in Jerusalem So if you’re in the capital city, where do you go to ask about a newborn king? To the palace, of course, where the king lives. So they go to Herod’s home and ask the question that will set a lot of things in motion: “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews?” (2:2). It’s hard for me to imagine that Herod, who wanted to be seen as powerful and in control, would want to admit that he didn’t know anything about a newborn king. So he doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he gets two different groups of people together. Chief priests—who were primarily Sadducees—and teachers of the law—Pharisees—are brought in. Interesting, isn’t it? These two groups rarely got along and didn’t see eye-to-eye on most things. The next time they agree on something will be in about thirty-three years when they both agree that Jesus must be put to death. But this day, they don’t even have to look up the answer to Herod’s question. It’s common knowledge (though somehow it was missed in the magi’s reading of the Hewish Scriptures): the messiah, the newborn king, would be born in Bethlehem, the hometown of King David. The prophet Micah (5:2) had said so. In Bethlehem, just down the road. Following the star, the magi missed their goal by this much, but it wouldn’t be long before they were where they intended to be (Card, Matthew: The Gospel of Identity, pg. 33).

So there may have been three or three hundred magi, but no matter how many actual magi there were, they undoubtedly traveled with a large entourage. As i said, they are representatives of the king of Persia, the one who referred to himself as “king of kings,” and they attract the whole city’s attention when they enter Jerusalem (Keener 65). How much more would Bethlehem have noticed when they arrived? At this time, Bethlehem had less than a thousand residents, and was mainly a cluster of homes surrounded by fields for grazing sheep and limited farming. I’m trying to imagine these wise men, these scholars of religion, these wealthy advisors to the kingdom of Persia, dressed to impress and undoubtedly arriving with servants and camels and who knows what else in tow, approaching a humble home in Bethlehem. The home might have even been mostly a cave, as many were in that time and place. It wouldn’t have been much, and probably didn’t have very lavish furnishings. And I’m trying to imagine the humble Mary, who isn’t even twenty years old yet, seeing all of this royal entourage stop at her house. I know how my wife prepares the house when people are coming over and we’ve never had anything like a royal processional show up unannounced. Can you picture Mary, seeing them coming and scurrying around, trying to straighten up the house? “Jesus, put away your toys! Joseph, why are your tools always laying everywhere? Oy vey, why is this house so dirty? Oh, I wish I had gone shopping earlier this morning! What am I going to feed all of them?” Hospitality was vital in Israel; she wouldn’t turn them away or tell them they couldn’t come in. But it must have been very stressful for her.

And yet, it’s not her they are there to see. Nor Joseph. They are there to see the baby, the toddler, Jesus. And more than that, they are there to worship the toddler Jesus. The word there means what we think it means: they recognize in Jesus something divine, something holy, something worthy of giving their lives to. A couple of things to point out: first, it is the pagans who worship him, who acknowledge who he is, not the religious people of Israel. Those who supposedly pointed people toward the one true God couldn’t be bothered to travel six miles south to see if the prophecy they quoted had come true. The magi traveled hundreds and hundreds of miles over two years, but the religious scholars couldn’t take an afternoon to go the six miles from Jerusalem to Bethlehem. The strangers from another land worshipped while the good, religious folks stayed at home (cf. Keener 67). What does that say to us today? Maybe this: “Those we least expect to honor Jesus may worship him, and those we least expect to oppose him may seek his death” (Keener 64). We should never assume that just became someone appears to be “religious” means that they are actually worshipping Jesus. Yes, I know I’ve quit preaching and gone to meddling.

So let’s move quickly to the second thing to notice here: these magi are learned men. They are scholars. They are undoubtedly brilliant. They have accumulated knowledge not only from their own culture but probably from around the world. And yet, with all that knowledge, with all their wealth, with all their power and prestige, they have not yet found something—or someone—who fills the hole in their soul. They haven’t yet found the wisdom their hearts are longing for but they hope to find it in the baby of Bethlehem. That’s why they were willing to make this journey, to confront a paranoid king, to follow a star to “the place where the child was” (2:9). They came to “satisfy a hunger that all of the world’s wisdom had not yet satisfied” (Card 34). For the seeking heart, the baby of Bethlehem is still the only one who satisfies the deepest longings and aches of the human heart.

So they came, they worshipped, and they gave gifts. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’ve got a toddler on my Christmas list, but I have not even considered giving him gold, frankincense or myrrh. Those things are not on the Amazon wish list! We know the story, we sing the song, and so maybe we don’t even think about how odd the gifts are but, honestly, these are really strange gifts to give to a toddler, or even to a poor family in first-century Judea. Strange gifts…from a group of strangers. Did they just not know what to buy for a toddler king? Were these the only things left on the shelf at the convenience store late on Christmas Eve? (You know who you are.) I mean, what is Jesus going to do with gold? Or frankincense? Or myrrh? Strange things to bring…unless these gifts on purpose, inspired by the God they didn’t yet know.

Gold is the most-often mentioned valuable metal in the Bible, and just like today, in the first century it was used as a medium of exchange. It was a standard of currency, but certainly not something that a poor family like Mary and Joseph’s would have had or probably had even ever seen. Gold was from the world of kings and rulers. Frankincense (how many kids pronounce that “Frankenstein”?) was a perfume but also was used as part of the offering on the altar. A couple of weeks ago, we talked about Zechariah the priest being chosen to offer the incense offering in the Temple, a place where few people could go. But the scent of the offering would bleed out into the surrounding areas and frankincense would have been part of that. It’s a smell they would have recognized. And myrrh was a spice that was used largely to help prepare a dead body for burial. Jews did not and do not embalm bodies, so they would wash, then wrap and in the midst of the wrapping pack myrrh and other spices to help prevent the smell (NIV Application 733). I would imagine you can already see the symbolism. Gold for a king. Frankincense for a priest. And myrrh for one who came to die. Would the magi have understood all of this? I almost picture them apologetically giving the gifts to Mary and Joseph, like, “I don’t know why, but I feel compelled to give you this gift. I know it’s not really what you need.” Would Mary and Joseph have understood all of this? Doubtful, though Mary might have come closest. She had, after all, heard the promise from the old priest at the temple who told her that Jesus’ life would be a sword to pierce her soul (cf. Luke 2:35). But I don’t think anyone here really knew what these gifts were about, and I wonder if these were some of the things Mary treasured (cf. Luke 2:19) until she understood them later. There is some speculation that these gifts could have been sold and provided the income needed for them to live in Egypt later, but we don’t really know. All we really know is that the giving of these unlikely gifts was, in some way, part of the worship these magi came to give to Jesus.

As I’ve been mentioning, and as you’ve heard in the candle lighting each week, there is a “word of the week” for each Sunday during Advent, and today that word is “joy,” represented by a pink candle. A lot of times we think of the angels or Mary when we think of joy, but Matthew links joy to the magi. “When they saw the star,” Matthew writes, “they were overjoyed” (2:10). N. T. Wright translates it this way: “When they saw the star, they were beside themselves with joy and excitement” (New Testament for Everyone, pg. 5). Have you ever been beside yourself? The original Greek could be translated as “big, violent joy.” This is not a quiet happiness. They are overcome with this feeling of delight, like everything will be right in the world now because the baby has arrived.

All of that brings me to two questions for this third Sunday in Advent. First of all: what brings you that kind of joy? Or, to put it another way, is there anything under the tree that will bring you that kind of joy? We spend so much energy, time, and money buying things for each other, and we have this big celebration opening gifts and exchanging stocking stuffers. And when the day is over, how much of it is still bringing you joy—the kind of joy described by Matthew: being beside yourself with joy and excitement? We order things from Amazon, and we wait for them to arrive (that two days seems like a long time, doesn’t it?), and once the package arrives, is there true, deep down, contented delight? There is nothing this world has to offer that can bring the kind of joy that the wise men experienced except Jesus. It’s the kind of joy that kept people like Paul moving around the ancient world just for the chance to help people come to know Jesus. Paul says he was beaten with rods and lashes, was constantly on the move, often went without sleep, was shipwrecked and pelted with stones (2 Corinthians 11:24-28). And yet there’s nothing else he would rather do. It’s the kind of joy that causes people still today to leave home and give their lives in another place so that they could tell people about Jesus. It’s the kind of joy that gives people facing serious medical situations a quiet calm that no matter what happens, Jesus will be with them. And it’s the kind of joy that enables believers to face death at the hands of persecutors. Overwhelming, exceedingly great joy. What brings you that kind of joy?

And who do you know who needs that kind of joy this Christmas? Our world is desperate for that kind of joy. We’re looking everywhere for a savior, for someone who can end the arguing, the fighting, the despair and the division. Some put their trust in politics. Some put their hope in technology. Some are closing ranks and trusting only in “their people.” But our faith tells us that kind of joy, lasting joy, dare I say everlasting joy, can only be found in the one who came to give his life for us. From the moment Jesus was born, even from the moment the Holy Spirit overshadowed Mary and Jesus came to be in her womb, Jesus was set on a course of righting the world. He came to make things the way God the Father intended them to be from the start, before sin and suffering and death entered the picture. His life and his death and his resurrection would begin that process to set the world right again. And Jesus did it not grumbling or complaining. The letter to the Hebrews puts it this way: “For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame…” (Hebrews 12:2). For his joy and so that he could give everlasting joy to you and to me. That kind of joy is only found in Jesus, the baby of Bethlehem. If you don’t know that kind of joy, maybe you need to know him.

That joy, though, is not just for “our people.” That joy is for everyone. We serve and love a savior who told us to not just love our friends but also to love our enemies. In fact, into a world where Jew was against Roman, Pharisee was against Sadducee, Jew was against Samaritan, Jesus says this: “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matthew 5:43). That sounds like a good word for us still today. Love the strangers. Love the Magi. Love the ones across the aisle. Love the ones who don’t share your faith. Love the ones who are least likely to welcome the baby of Bethlehem as good news this Christmas. Because they are the ones who most need to hear it. They are the Magi, the outcasts, the least likely people to worship at the manger. And yet they are the ones who do, who will. Because the joy he brings is for everyone. 

Do you know what Jesus says the result is of us loving our enemy along with our neighbor? “That you may be children of your Father in heaven” (Matthew 5:44). How do people know that we are children of God? When we love the unlikely, when like the Magi we kneel in front of the one who came for everyone. And thank God he did because everyone includes you and me. Let’s pray.