Matthew 2:1-12 | We Three Kings

We all have a picture in our heads of the "Wise Men." Maybe you have a Nativity set on your mantle right now. There’s Mary, Joseph, a few sheep, and then... three guys in bathrobes holding shiny boxes. They look peaceful. They look like harmless scholars who just really love stargazing. We've domesticated them. We've turned them into greeting card characters.

But historically, that image is laughable. The Magi weren't just astronomers. They were the power brokers of the East. I remember a professor telling me once: "When the Magi showed up in Jerusalem, it wasn't three guys on camels. It was like a presidential motorcade rolling into town." Think big black Suburbans and police escorts!

That image always stuck with me because it makes sense. They traveled 900 miles from Persia across bandit-infested deserts carrying chests of gold. You don't do that with three guys. You would be dead in a week. To transport that kind of wealth safely, they likely arrived with a massive entourage—guards, servants, a military escort.

These men were part of a priestly class, a distinct group of religious leaders and scholars that stood behind the throne in the Persian empire. They were the advisors, the cabinet members. In the ancient world, they were often the ones who decided who got to wear the crown. They were Kingmakers.

So imagine the scene. A "motorcade" of Persian Kingmakers rides into Jerusalem—the capital city of a Roman-occupied territory. Let's read what happens in Matthew 2:1-3.

Matthew 2:1–3 NIV

1 After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi from the east came to Jerusalem 2 and asked, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.” 3 When King Herod heard this he was disturbed, and all Jerusalem with him.

That question—"Where is he who has been born king of the Jews?"—is not a polite theological inquiry. That is a geopolitical earthquake.

Because there was already a "King of the Jews" sitting on the throne. His name was Herod. And he didn't get that title by being born into it; he bought it from the Roman Senate.

So do you see the tension? It explains exactly why Matthew tells us Herod was "troubled" and "all Jerusalem with him."

We tend to think Herod was just a jealous, murderous sociopath—and he was—but his fear here is specific. It’s geopolitical. See, the Magi were from Parthia, the Persian empire to the east. And only 35 years earlier, the Parthians had actually invaded Jerusalem, overthrown the government, and sent Herod running for his life in the middle of the night. He had to flee to Rome, beg for an army, and fight his way back to power.

So when a delegation of high-ranking Parthian Kingmakers rides into his capital asking for a "New King," Herod isn't just annoyed. He is having a flashback. It’s PTSD. He sees the representatives of the empire that chased him out of town, and he’s terrified they are here to do it again.

It’s a clash of two realities: You have the Kingmakers from the East riding into town looking for a Born King, standing in the court of a Made King.

One King has a pedigree; the other has a PR firm. One has the bloodline; the other has the hustle.

And the text says Herod was "troubled." The Greek word is tarassō. It means to be agitated, shaken, thrown into a panic. Herod is terrified. Why? Because he knows how the game is played. If a True King has arrived, the Fake King is finished.

Now, why does this matter for us, thousands of years later, sitting in Napoleon? Because I am convinced that the "Spirit of Herod" is alive and well in 2026. I don't mean we are murderous tyrants. I mean we are Self-Made Kings.

We spent the last three weeks talking about this. We talked about the "Crown of Control" in Week 1. We talked about the "PR Firm" version of our lives in Week 2. We live in a culture that screams at you: "You are the captain of your soul. You are the master of your fate. You are the King of your own life." And so, like Herod, we spend our lives trying to legitimize our own rule. We try to be the Kingmakers of our own existence. We build our careers to prove we matter. We curate our image to prove we are happy. We accumulate wealth to prove we are secure.

We are trying to crown ourselves. And just like Herod, the moment anything threatens that little kingdom we’ve built—a bad medical report, a rebellious child, a younger coworker who is more talented than us—we don't just get annoyed. We get tarassō, troubled. We get shaken. We get paranoid.

Because deep down, we know the truth: If we had to build the throne, we have to fight to keep it.

The central conflict of the Christmas story isn't just Herod vs. Jesus. It is the conflict that rages in every human heart.

It is the conflict between Building your own kingdom, and Bowing to the True King.

And today, as we close this series, Matthew gives us a choice. You can be Herod, or you can be the Magi. You can cling to a crown that will crush you, or you can cast it down before the One who was born to carry it for you.

As I hope to show with the rest of our time: True royalty isn't found in the kingdom you build, but in the King you bow to.

We’ll look at this text as a "Tale of Two Kings." The Builder that’s Herod, and The Bow, that’s The Magi.

And then we are going to see the Better King who saves them both.

I. THE BUILDER (The Anxiety of Control)

Let’s look closely at Herod. Read with me Matthew 2:4-8.

Matthew 2:4–8 NIV

4 When he [Herod] had called together all the people’s chief priests and teachers of the law, he asked them where the Messiah was to be born. 5 “In Bethlehem in Judea,” they replied, “for this is what the prophet has written: 6 “ ‘But you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for out of you will come a ruler who will shepherd my people Israel.’” 7 Then Herod called the Magi secretly and found out from them the exact time the star had appeared. 8 He sent them to Bethlehem and said, “Go and search carefully for the child. As soon as you find him, report to me, so that I too may go and worship him.”

We often treat Herod like a cartoon villain. But historically, Herod was an incredible man. They called him "Herod the Great" for a reason. He was a genius administrator. He kept the peace in a volatile region. He was a master architect.

Herod was a Builder. He rebuilt the Temple in Jerusalem to be one of the wonders of the ancient world. He built the port city of Caesarea Maritima. He literally carved a seaport where there wasn’t one! He built the massive fortress of Masada. He literally built a mountain fortress called the Herodium where he moved one mountain top onto another just to have a palace that looked down on everyone else.

He spent his entire life building monuments to his own glory. He wanted to make sure that no matter what happened, he was safe, he was significant, and he was in charge. Does that sound familiar?

The "Herodian Hustle" isn't just about ancient politics. It’s the modern operating system. It’s the belief that I am responsible for securing my own future. I am responsible for building a life that matters. The problem isn't the building; the problem is the Foundation. Herod built everything on the foundation of Self. He believed that if he didn't hold it all together, no one else would.

And because he was a Self-Made King, he was a Paranoid King.

Historians tell us that Herod was terrified of rivals. Remember? It’s better to be a pig in Herod's court than one of his wives or children! Herod was kosher and kept the Jewish dietary laws, so he wouldn’t kill a pig. But he would slaughter his own family to keep his crown.

This is the logic of the Self-Made Kingdom: Paranoia.

When you are the King, everyone else is a threat. If you build your identity on your Intellect, then you are terrified of the person in the room who is smarter than you. They aren't a person; they are a rival. You have to take them down. If you build your identity on your Moral Performance—on being the "good Christian mom" or the "dependable guy"—then you are terrified of your own sin. You can't admit when you're struggling. You have to hide the evidence, just like Herod, because if people saw the cracks in the foundation, the whole kingdom might fall.

Look at verse 3 again. "When Herod the king heard this, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him."

Why was all Jerusalem troubled? Because when the King is anxious, everybody suffers. Dad, when you are stressed about your career because your career is your throne, who pays the price? Your wife. Your kids. The whole house is "troubled" because the King is threatened. Mom, when you are obsessed with the image of a perfect family because that is your throne, who pays the price? Your teenagers. They feel the crushing weight of your expectations.

This is the tragedy of the Inner Herod. We think that being in charge will bring us peace. We think, "If I can just get to this level of income, if I can just get this position, if I can just get my kids into this college, then I can rest." But the text shows us the opposite. The higher Herod climbed, the more terrified he became.

Total autonomy is not freedom; it is a cage of anxiety.

And look at how he reacts to the Word of God. This is fascinating. Herod calls a Bible study! He brings in the theologians. They quote Micah 5:2. They know the answer! Theologically, they get an A+. They have the right information.

But notice what happens. The Scribes know the facts, but they don't go. They are five miles from Bethlehem—a two-hour walk—and they don't budge. Why? Because they are comfortable in Herod's kingdom. They have their positions. They use the Bible for information, but not for transformation. And Herod? He uses the Bible for intelligence. He wants to know where Jesus is, not to worship Him, but to eliminate Him.

This is the danger of religious proximity without surrender.

You can come to church every week. You can know the answers. But if Jesus threatens your autonomy—if He touches your money, your sexual ethics, your politics, your schedule—how do you react? Do you bow? Or do you scheme?

The "Religious Herod" says: "Jesus, I want you to support my kingdom. I want you to bless my plans. But don't you dare try to take the throne."

Friends, Jesus didn't come to be a consultant. He came to be King. And you cannot negotiate with a King. You can only bow.

II. THE BOW (The Joy of Surrender)

Which brings us to the Magi. We’ve seen the Builder (Herod) who is terrified, and the Bible Scholars (Scribes) who are indifferent. But now we have the third group. The Outsiders. The Kingmakers from the East.

Let's read Matthew 2:9-11.

Matthew 2:9–11 NIV

9 After they had heard the king, they went on their way, and the star they had seen when it rose went ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the child was. 10 When they saw the star, they were overjoyed. 11 On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.

I want you to notice the contrast in effort here. The Scribes—the religious insiders—were five miles away from the Messiah. They could have walked there before lunch. They didn't move an inch. The Magi traveled 900 miles. They crossed deserts, faced bandits, endured months of travel. They didn't have the Bible verses; they just had a light in the sky and a hunger in their souls.

And look what happens when they finally find Him. Verse 10: "When they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceedingly great joy." Matthew is piling up superlatives here. He says they rejoiced (chairo) with exceedingly (sphodra) great (megas) joy (chara). It is an explosion of relief.

Why? Because the search is over. Because for their entire lives, they had been serving human kings. They knew what it looked like to serve a king who takes. But now, the star stops. And they realize they have found a King who is different.

And this leads us to the most subversive verse in the entire Christmas story. Verse 11. "And going into the house... they fell down and worshiped him."

Don't rush past the visuals of this. These are the Magi. These are the power brokers of the East. They are used to people bowing to them. And they walk into a peasant home in Bethlehem. There is no throne. There are no guards. There is just a young woman and a toddler. By every human metric, this is underwhelming. This is weak.

But what do they do? They don't negotiate. They don't offer a treaty. The text says they "fell down."The Greek word is piptō—it means to collapse. It’s a loss of stance. And then they "worshiped"—proskyneō. It literally means to kiss the ground towards someone. It is the posture of total submission.

The Kingmakers unmake themselves. The men who crown kings cast their own crowns into the dust. Why? Because they realized they were in the presence of a King they didn't need to make. They were in the presence of the King who made them.

This is the restoration of our Royal Identity! Remember what we said in Week 1? In Genesis 1, we were made to rule under God. In Genesis 3, we tried to rule over God (or without Him). We stopped bowing, and we started grasping. But here, the Magi show us the way back. They show us that the most dignified, royal thing a human being can do is not to stand tall in pride, but to bow low in surrender.

You will never stand taller than when you are on your knees before the True King.

And look what happens next. The worship leads to generosity. But notice what they give. These weren't random birthday presents. These were theological statements. "Then, opening their treasures, they offered him gifts, gold and frankincense and myrrh."

Look at the symbolism here. Gold: This is the gift for a King. They are acknowledging His Sovereignty. Frankincense: This was incense used in the temple worship. It is the gift for a Priest or a Deity. They are acknowledging His Divinity. Myrrh: This is the shocker. Myrrh was a perfume, but specifically, it was an embalming spice. It was used to prepare bodies for burial. It is a gift for a Mortal, a man who will die!

Friends, think about this. It is stunningly odd to give a toddler a funeral spice. You don't bring embalming fluid to a baby shower! Unless... you understand who this Baby is. The Magi, perhaps unknowingly, are prophesying the Gospel. They are acknowledging that this King wasn't just born to reign; He was born to die.

Herod hoarded his wealth to build his fortresses. The Magi poured out their wealth to anoint a King for burial.

Do you see the difference in their hearts? Herod says: "I have to keep this, because if I don't, who will take care of me?" (That's the Anxiety of the Builder). The Magi say: "I can give this away, because I have found the King who gives His life for me." (That's the Freedom of the Bow).

And friends, this is the diagnosis for us today. We think that "worship" is just singing songs on Sunday morning. But in the Bible, worship is a transfer of allegiance. It is a re-ordering of your kingdom. If you are still fiercely protecting your career, your money, your reputation, your "me-time"—if you snap when someone touches those things—it is because you haven't bowed yet. You are still the Kingmaker of your own life.

However the Magi show us what we receive when we bow. You see this account of their coming, isn't just about what they gave to Jesus. It's about what Jesus came to give to them.

III. THE BETTER KING

We have looked at the Builder who is terrified of losing his throne. We have looked at the Bow of the men who surrendered their crowns.

But the story doesn't end with a peaceful worship service. It ends with a slaughter. Read Matthew 2:12 and verse 16 with me.

Matthew 2:12–16 NIV

12 And having been warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, they returned to their country by another route... 16 When Herod realized that he had been outwitted by the Magi, he was furious, and he gave orders to kill all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity who were two years old and under, in accordance with the time he had learned from the Magi.

It is horrific. It is the "Police Report" version of Christmas that we usually leave out of the pageant. Why does Matthew include this? Why end the story here? Because he wants us to see the cost of the Self-Made Kingdom. Herod proves, once and for all, that a King who is obsessed with Building his own glory will always end up consuming his subjects. If you are the King of your own life, eventually, you will have to sacrifice the people around you to keep your throne. The Self-Made King always demands blood to stay in power.

But here is the Gospel Turn. Here is the reason we can sing "Joy to the World." Because Matthew is setting up a contrast that will ring through the rest of the New Testament.

Look at Herod: He is the King who kills the innocent to save himself. Now look at Jesus: He is the Innocent King who will die to save the guilty.

Herod sheds the blood of children to secure his rule. Jesus sheds His own blood to secure our rescue.

Do you see the difference? Every other king in history—whether it’s Caesar, Herod, or the little "King” living in your chest—says: "You must die so that I can live. You must serve me so I can be great. "But Jesus is the Better King. He stands up from the Throne of Heaven, takes off His royal robes, and puts on the rags of humanity. As Paul tells us in Philippians 2, He did not consider equality with God something to be grasped (like Herod, like Adam, like us)—but He emptied Himself.

He didn't come to kill his rivals. He came to die for them. He didn't come to build a fortress to keep us out; He came to be the Temple to let us in. He didn't come to take your treasure; He came to become your Treasure.

Friends, this is why you can bow. If Jesus were just another powerful ruler, bowing would be oppressive. It would be humiliating. But when you see a King who uses His omnipotence to serve you... When you see a King who takes the spear so you don't have to... When you see a King who wears a crown of thorns so you can wear a crown of glory... Bowing isn't slavery. It is love. It is the only rational response to that kind of beauty.

CONCLUSION: ANOTHER WAY

Look at the very last line of our text. Verse 12. "And being warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they departed to their own country by another way."

They went home by another way. Geographically, this was a detour to avoid Herod’s soldiers. But theologically, this is your instruction for the New Year.

You cannot encounter the True King and go back the same way you came. You cannot see the glory of Jesus and go back to the "Herodian Hustle." You cannot kneel at the manger and then go back to building your little kingdom of anxiety.

The Magi left Herod behind. They left the paranoia behind. They left the politics behind. They went home with less gold, but with more Joy. And that is the invitation for you in 2026.

Cast down your crown. True royalty isn't found in the kingdom you build, but in the King you bow to.

Stop trying to be the Kingmaker of your own life. Stop trying to legitimize your existence with your resume. Stop auditing for a role you were already given. You are a child of the Most High God. That is your Royal Identity. It was given to you in Genesis 1, and it was bought back for you in the manger and the Cross.

So, you can put down the heavy crown of control. You don't need it. You can leave the palace of anxiety. You don't belong there. Go home another way. Go home as a worshiper. Go home as a servant. Go home as a child of the King.

Let’s pray.

*Father, we are tired of building. We are tired of the hustle. We confess that we have tried to sit on a throne that belongs only to You. But today, like the Magi, we fall down. We cast our crowns before You. We acknowledge that You are the Better King. You are the King who died to save us. So rule over us. Rule our schedules, rule our finances, rule our families. We are Yours. In Your Name we Pray. Amen.