The First to Follow

Matthew 2:1-12

INTRODUCTION

You’ve seen the videos. A new iPhone drops, and people line up at 3 a.m. with lawn chairs, thermoses of coffee, and portable chargers in hand. Why? Because they want to be the first. First to buy, first to post, first to say, “I had it before it was cool.” In our culture, being first is often seen as a badge of honor. First to break the story, first to go viral, first to try the trend, even if that trend is eating something that looks suspiciously like glue but is labeled “health yogurt” on TikTok.

But here’s the thing: being first isn’t just about getting ahead. It’s about believing something is worth pursuing. Whether it’s a product, an idea, a movement, or a promise, the first followers take a risk before the crowd catches on. They don't wait for all the details to be finalized. They move with faith, not certainty.

That’s what makes Matthew 2:1–12 so compelling. In a world full of religious experts, political leaders, and even a few sleepy shepherds, the first people to go out of their way to find and worship Jesus weren’t priests or prophets. They weren’t from Jerusalem. They weren’t even Jewish. They were outsiders. Star-gazers. Foreigners. Astrologers from the East. They’re known as the wise men, or the magi, but maybe they’re better described as the first to follow.

Think about that. These men saw something in the sky and set out on a journey with little more than a question: “Where is the one who has been born King of the Jews?” That one question disrupted their routines, reoriented their priorities, and redirected their future. While others ignored the signs or clung to their comfort zones, these seekers saddled up and followed the light they were given.

In a time when many are content to scroll past Jesus as if He were just another post in the feed, this story reminds us: real worshipers move. They seek. They follow. They give. They bow. And often, they’re the most unexpected people.

Today, let’s walk with the Magi. Let’s examine what compelled them to move, what obstacles they faced, and what gifts they brought. Because the journey of the wise men is not just a cute story with camels and gold, it’s a model for modern faith. And maybe, just maybe, God is inviting you to be first. Not first in line for likes or applause, but first to bow your heart, follow His lead, and bring your worship to the King.

Let’s step into the story.

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.

SCRIPTURAL ANALYSIS

VERSES 1-2

Bethlehem, a small village about six miles south of Jerusalem, was known as the City of David and held deep Messianic significance. King Herod, known as Herod the Great, ruled as a client king under Roman authority. Though he rebuilt the Jewish temple magnificently, Herod was a paranoid and violent ruler who saw threats everywhere. The Magi were likely astrologers or wise men from Persia or Babylon, regions steeped in astronomy, dreams, and omens. Their presence in Jerusalem would have stirred curiosity and alarm.

The Magi’s question was politically explosive. Herod had been appointed king of the Jews by Rome, but they were asking about one who had been born king. Ancient cultures interpreted celestial events as omens, and the alignment of stars with royal births was widely regarded as a significant occurrence.

The creation of the star testifies to the birth of Christ. And those who are spiritually sensitive are drawn to seek and worship the true King. Jesus’ birth draws the attention of Gentile seekers, not just Jewish locals. This hints at the universality of the gospel: from the beginning, Christ was a King for all nations.

VERSES 3-8

Herod's reaction was consistent with his pattern of eliminating rivals. His fear spread to Jerusalem, likely because his instability often led to violence and upheaval. “All Jerusalem” being disturbed reflects political anxiety as a new king could mean rebellion and Roman backlash.

Herod consults the Jewish religious elite, priests, and scribes. The priests quote from Micah 5:2, a well-known Messianic prophecy. Bethlehem was small and seemingly insignificant, yet chosen by God for greatness.

Herod’s secrecy reveals his true intent to calculate the age of the child and plan his murder. Herod’s language of worship is false, as politicians in ancient times often used religion as a cover for control.

The arrival of Jesus unsettles worldly power. His kingdom confronts human authority, ego, and control. The gospel is not just comfort; it also brings disruption.

VERSES 9-11

This “star” may have been a supernatural phenomenon rather than a typical celestial body, given its movement and precision. The text emphasizes divine guidance. God is leading these seekers.

The Greek text uses a quadruple expression for joy. It literally reads, “they rejoiced with great, exceedingly great joy.” Their long journey culminated not in disappointment but delight.

They arrive at a house, not the manger. Jesus is likely a toddler by now. The gifts of gold (royalty), frankincense (divinity), and myrrh (suffering and death) were deeply symbolic and valuable. Offering gifts to royalty was common in Eastern cultures.

True worship cannot be faked. God is not fooled by pretense. He sees the heart and judges with perfect truth. Jesus receives honor fitting for a King, a God, and a Savior. True worship involves both adoration and costly surrender.

VERSE 12

Dreams were widely regarded as a form of divine communication in Eastern culture. God protects His purposes by redirecting the Magi. Their obedience disrupts Herod’s plan.

Those who truly encounter Jesus leave differently, changed in direction and allegiance. Obedience to God often means defying earthly ideas and powers.

TODAY’S KEY TRUTH

Following Jesus won’t fit into your plans; it will rewrite them.

APPLICATION

That key truth sounds inspiring until it becomes personal. Most of us like the idea of Jesus as an addition to our lives, like a GPS to help us reach the destination we picked. We want Him to guide our steps, but we still want to choose the path. We want Him to bless our plans, not blow them up. But Matthew 2:1–12 tells a different story. It shows us that encountering Jesus is not an enhancement to the life we want: it’s an invitation into a new life we never imagined.

Let’s be honest. We live in a world obsessed with self-direction. Social media is filled with hashtags like #MyJourney, #ManifestingDreams, and #BuildingMyBrand. Our calendars are full, our vision boards are polished, and our goals are neatly color-coded. We like predictable outcomes and 5-year plans. But Jesus didn’t come to tweak your timeline; He came to transform it.

The Magi were respected intellectuals, likely hailing from the regions of ancient Persia or Babylon, which are now modern-day Iran and Iraq. Their title refers to a priestly caste from the Median and Persian empires, known for their deep understanding of astronomy, sacred writings, and dream interpretation. In ancient Near Eastern cultures, these men were not merely seen as fortune-tellers or stargazers, but also as philosophers, scientists, and royal advisors. Think of them as a blend between astronomers, scholars, and spiritual sages. They served in royal courts and were often called upon to provide insight on matters ranging from political decisions to spiritual omens.

The legacy of their office can be traced back to the prophet Daniel, who lived in Babylon centuries ago. Daniel, a faithful Jew, had risen to prominence among the wise men of Babylon. It’s plausible that remnants of Jewish prophecy, like the expectation of a coming King, were preserved and passed down through generations of Eastern sages. If so, the Magi’s awareness of a star heralding a Jewish king wasn’t completely foreign to their culture; it was the fulfillment of a long-standing curiosity born from divine seeds planted generations earlier.

These were men of means. Their ability to undertake an extended, international journey suggests access to wealth, status, servants, and resources. Travel in the first century was no small undertaking. There were no highways, maps, or Hilton points. Caravans journeyed through desert wilderness, over rough terrain, and across regions filled with political unrest and bandits. A trip from Persia to Jerusalem could have taken weeks, possibly months. And yet, these men did not hesitate.

When a strange star rose, one that did not follow normal celestial patterns, they understood it as a cosmic announcement. While others went about their lives unaware, the Magi paid attention. They saw the sign and moved. Their journey was neither convenient, short, nor safe. It cost them time, energy, comfort, and security. They didn’t know how long it would take, where it would end, or what they would find. All they had was a bold question: “Where is the one who has been born King of the Jews?”

That question alone was revolutionary. In the Roman Empire, Caesar was considered the ultimate king. To suggest another king, especially one whose birth had cosmic significance, was politically explosive. It risked angering both local authorities, like Herod, and imperial powers. Yet they asked it anyway.

These were not impulsive travelers. They weren’t tourists with flexible schedules or men in midlife crisis looking for adventure. Their decision to follow the star meant abandoning predictable routines and well-ordered lives for a path filled with ambiguity and risk. They weren’t responding to a formal invitation or fulfilling a duty. They were responding to revelation: a stirring of something holy and eternal. They didn’t fit Jesus into their carefully mapped calendars. His arrival interrupted them.

And yet they went.

This wasn’t just a physical journey; it was a spiritual one. It marked a shift in their allegiance. They were no longer just men of the East seeking knowledge; they became worshipers seeking a King. The irony is striking: the Jewish elite, living just miles from Bethlehem, did nothing. Yet these foreign seekers crossed deserts to bow at His feet.

In following the star, the Magi show us what true discipleship looks like. It’s not about convenience or control. It’s about a willingness to be interrupted, rerouted, and redefined by the presence of Jesus. They remind us that God doesn’t only call the insiders. He calls the attentive, the available, and the courageous. These wise men were the first to follow not because they had it all figured out, but because they were willing to move when God called.

Modern disciples must learn the same lesson: Jesus rarely works within the lines we draw. He calls us to erase, surrender, and rewrite our stories with Him at the center.

Matthew 2:3 tells us that Herod was disturbed, and so was all Jerusalem. Why? Because Jesus’ arrival threatened the system. Herod had power, prestige, and position. The religious leaders had knowledge and tradition. But none of them were ready to relinquish control. The Magi, outsiders with no religious credentials, were the ones willing to follow.

That’s still true today. The arrival of Christ into any heart or household will disrupt the status quo. Following Jesus isn’t a spiritual hobby; it’s a cosmic shift. It reorients your time, your priorities, your relationships, and your identity. If you’ve never felt your plans unravel at His feet, you might not be following Him as closely as you think.

Jesus doesn’t ask to join your story. He invites you into His story.

When the Magi finally arrived in Bethlehem, they didn’t find a palace. They found a toddler in a house with a teenage mother and a carpenter father. It probably looked unimpressive. But they weren’t disappointed. Matthew 2:10 says they were overjoyed. They bowed down, worshiped, and opened their treasures.

Here’s the paradox: When you allow Jesus to rewrite your plans, you’ll find joy where the world sees obscurity. You’ll bow in humility where the world demands applause. You’ll give generously instead of grasping tightly. In surrender, you’ll discover peace. In sacrifice, you’ll find purpose.

That’s the secret of divine disruption. Jesus doesn’t rewrite your story to punish you: He rewrites to fulfill you. What He builds in your life is infinitely greater than anything you could’ve scheduled, vision-boarded, or hustled into existence.

Matthew 2:12 closes the story with a powerful image: “And having been warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, they returned to their country by another route.” They didn’t just return by a different path; they returned as different people.

This is what it means to truly encounter Jesus. You cannot go back the same way you came. Your allegiance changes. Your path shifts. Your heart turns. The “other route” symbolizes the re-scripted life that is not ruled by fear, politics, or convenience, but by obedience to God’s voice.

Many want to meet Jesus, but few want to go home a different way. That’s because change is costly. You may lose the approval of friends. You may find yourself walking away from Herod-sized opportunities that promise power but demand your compromise. However, the reward is clear: life on the route God has designed is filled with His presence, protection, and peace.

Following Jesus won’t fit into your plans; it will rewrite them.

CONCLUSION

Again, that key truth sounds inspiring until it becomes personal. So, how does this look in real life? Following Jesus may mean breaking away from toxic patterns, ending unhealthy dating situations, or learning to forgive someone you swore you never would. His plan isn’t always romantic or easy, but it’s always redemptive.

You might be called to turn down a promotion, shift careers, or pursue a calling that others don’t understand. Remember, the Magi left behind comfort for calling. But they found what mattered most.

Schedules may shift. Sunday mornings may no longer be negotiable. Service and generosity become normal. You begin to ask: “What does Jesus want from this week?” rather than, “What do I want to accomplish?”

The Magi gave costly gifts. Following Jesus today means we give Him the treasures of our lives: our hearts, our hopes, and our resources. Not out of obligation, but from joy.

Culture calls us to craft our own identity. Jesus invites us to die to ourselves and be remade in His image. That process is both disruptive and liberating.

Following Jesus won’t fit into your plans; it will rewrite them.

Following Jesus won’t fit neatly into your plans or planner. It may wreck your five-year plan. It may challenge your comfort. But it will lead to joy you didn’t know you needed and a story better than you could have written yourself.

The Magi didn’t set out to change the world. They just followed the light they were given. And in doing so, they became the first to follow, the first to worship, and the first to model what it means to truly surrender to the King.

Following Jesus won’t fit into your plans; it will rewrite them.

So today, if your plans feel disrupted, don’t panic. Don’t assume something has gone wrong just because things aren’t going your way. Sometimes, the very detour you’re resisting is the divine redirection you need. Maybe Jesus is trying to do what He’s always done for those who dare to seek Him: lovingly, patiently, and intentionally rewrite your life with grace, purpose, and joy.

The Magi didn’t know where the journey would take them. They didn’t have GPS coordinates, only a star and a stirring in their souls. But their yes to God led them straight to the Savior. What if your interrupted plans are not a sign of God’s absence, but of His invitation? What if the closed door, the delayed answer, or the unexpected path is the star that’s meant to guide you closer to Jesus?

Following Christ is not about getting everything you want. It’s about discovering everything you need and realizing it’s found in Him. Joy doesn’t come from the plan working out the way you imagined. Joy comes from walking with the One who holds your life in His hands, even when the path twists and turns.

So instead of clinging tightly to your version of your story, open your hands. Surrender the pen. Let Him write the next chapter. It may not look like what you had in mind, but it will be full of grace, marked by purpose, and anchored in joy.

Let Jesus write your story. He’s the only one who knows an ending worth living for.

Following Jesus won’t fit into your plans; it will rewrite them.