The King Preserved by Providence

Introduction

Last week we stood in Bethlehem with the magi. They had come from the East because God had given them light, and by that light they were led to the Christ. They entered the house, they saw the Child with Mary His mother, and they fell down and worshiped Him. It was a beautiful scene, and yet Matthew has already begun to show us that the coming of Christ into the world does not produce the same response in every heart.

The magi rejoiced. Herod was disturbed. Jerusalem was troubled. The chief priests and scribes were informed, but they did not go. The nations were beginning to gather, but the rulers in Israel were already resisting. And that is not simply a feature of the opening chapters of Matthew. It is a pattern that will run through this Gospel from beginning to end. The Lord Jesus Christ is never merely noticed. He is adored, ignored, or opposed. Men bow before Him, turn away from Him, or seek to destroy Him. But no one meets Christ and remains unchanged.

When we come to Matthew 2:13–23, the tone changes quickly. The joy of the magi gives way to the danger of the night. The gifts of worship are followed by the threat of violence. The Child who has been adored by foreign dignitaries must now be carried away under the cover of darkness because a wicked king wants Him dead.

And yet Matthew does not tell this story merely to show us that opposition began early. He tells it to show us something even greater. He tells it to show us that God was ruling over every detail. Again and again in this section Matthew reminds us that what happened took place in order that the Scriptures might be fulfilled. That matters. Matthew is teaching us that neither Herod’s rage, nor Israel’s sorrow, nor Joseph’s fear, nor Nazareth’s obscurity can derail the plan of God. The promises of God are not fragile. The purpose of God is not threatened by the schemes of man. The Son of God will be preserved, the Word of God will be fulfilled, and the saving purpose of God will move forward exactly as He has ordained.

Leon Morris notes that Matthew consistently emphasizes that the outworking of the divine purpose is accomplished in Christ. That is exactly what we see in this passage. God preserves His King and fulfills His Word even through exile, sorrow, and humiliation.

So as we walk through this text, I want us to see three truths. First, the King is protected in exile. Second, the King is opposed by the world. Third, the King is prepared in humility. And through all three movements of the passage, Matthew is pressing this truth upon us: God sovereignly preserves His King and accomplishes His redemptive purposes even in the darkest moments of history. Turn with me now to Matthew’s gospel as we once again read from the second chapter beginning in the 13th verse and reading through the 23rd.

Text

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Matthew 2:13–23 LSB

Now when they had departed, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream, saying, “Get up! Take the Child and His mother and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is going to search for the Child to destroy Him.” So Joseph got up and took the Child and His mother while it was still night, and departed for Egypt. And he remained there until the death of Herod, in order that what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet would be fulfilled, saying, “Out of Egypt I called My Son.” Then when Herod saw that he had been tricked by the magi, he became very enraged, and sent and slew all the male children who were in Bethlehem and all its vicinity, from two years old and under, according to the time which he had carefully determined from the magi. Then what had been spoken through Jeremiah the prophet was fulfilled, saying, “A voice was heard in Ramah, Weeping and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children; And she was refusing to be comforted, Because they were no more.” But when Herod died, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt, saying, “Get up, take the Child and His mother, and go into the land of Israel; for those who sought the Child’s life are dead.” So Joseph got up, took the Child and His mother, and came into the land of Israel. But when he heard that Archelaus was reigning over Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there. Then after being warned by God in a dream, he departed for the district of Galilee, and came and lived in a city called Nazareth, so that what was spoken through the prophets would be fulfilled: “He shall be called a Nazarene.”

Our gracious and sovereign Father,

We thank You for Your Word and for the truth it reveals about Your Son. From the very beginning of His life we see Your hand guiding every step, protecting Him, fulfilling Your promises, and accomplishing Your plan of redemption.

Lord, we confess that we often struggle to see Your purposes when life is difficult. Yet this passage reminds us that even in the darkest moments You are still working according to Your perfect wisdom.

Open our eyes to see Christ clearly today. Guard us from indifference and unbelief. Give us hearts that worship Him as the true King.

May Your Spirit work in us so that we trust Your providence, rejoice in Your salvation, and live for the glory of Your Son.

We pray this in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen.

I. The King Protected in Exile

Matthew begins in verse 13: “Now when they had departed, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream.” Joseph has already received divine instruction by a dream in chapter 1. There the angel told him not to fear taking Mary as his wife, because the Child conceived in her was from the Holy Spirit. Now once again the Lord speaks to Joseph, and once again the message is immediate, direct, and necessary.

“Get up! Take the Child and His mother and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is going to search for the Child to destroy Him.”

Those are striking words. The promised King has come. The Christ has been born. Heaven has announced His arrival. Prophecy has identified Him. Worshipers have come to Him. And yet now the order is not, “Present Him in triumph,” but, “Take Him and flee.” Not, “Establish Him before the rulers,” but, “Escape from the ruler.” Not, “Remain in Bethlehem,” but, “Go down into Egypt.”

Already the Lord Jesus is the target of the hostility of this world.

That should not surprise us. The coming of Christ is not simply the arrival of a religious teacher. It is the arrival of the true King in a world in rebellion against God. The child in Bethlehem is the seed of the woman promised in Genesis 3:15, and if that is true, then we should expect the serpent to rage. We should expect enmity. We should expect conflict. We should expect the kingdom of darkness to rise up against Him. Even in infancy He is the man of sorrows, not because He has committed any wrong, but because He has entered a world that hates the rule of God.

And yet even as the threat arises, so does the preserving hand of God. Before Herod can reach the Child, God has already spoken. Before the king can move, heaven has given direction. Herod is plotting, but God is governing. Herod is searching, but God is saving. Herod acts as though he is sovereign, but he is not sovereign. He is a creature under the rule of the God he defies.

Notice too the repeated expression Matthew uses: “the Child and His mother.” It is not accidental. The Child is central. The Child is primary. The Child is the One toward whom all attention is drawn. Joseph is not told first to preserve his household in general, but specifically to take the Child and His mother. Everything in this passage revolves around Christ.

Then in verse 14 Matthew says, “So Joseph got up and took the Child and His mother while it was still night, and departed for Egypt.” That is classic Joseph. Quiet, direct, immediate obedience. He does not argue. He does not ask for a sign. He does not request a more convenient time. He obeys. Matthew Henry says, “Those that would make sure work of their obedience must make quick work of it.” Joseph is an example of simple, earnest, prompt obedience to the Word of God.

The destination is Egypt. Historically, that makes sense. As the commentators note, Egypt had long been a place of refuge for Jews in times of distress, and there were large Jewish communities there. But Matthew is not merely giving us practical travel information. He wants us to see theological significance. Verse 15 says, “And he remained there until the death of Herod, in order that what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet would be fulfilled, saying, ‘OUT OF EGYPT I CALLED MY SON.’”

That quotation comes from Hosea 11:1. In its original context Hosea is speaking of Israel. “When Israel was a youth I loved him, and out of Egypt I called My son.” The reference is to the Exodus. God had redeemed His people from bondage and called them out of Egypt as His covenant son.

So why does Matthew apply that text to Jesus?

Because Jesus is the true Son. Jesus is the faithful Israel. Jesus is the One in whom the calling of Israel reaches its fulfillment. Israel was called God’s son, yet Israel proved to be rebellious, stubborn, and unbelieving. Israel was brought through the sea and into the wilderness, yet Israel grumbled, tested God, turned aside, and failed. But Christ will not fail. He is the obedient Son. He is the faithful servant. He is the true Israel condensed into one person, the One who will accomplish in righteousness what old covenant Israel could never accomplish in weakness and sin.

Leon Morris points out that Matthew sees Scripture as fulfilled in Jesus in such a way that the divine purpose running through the whole of Scripture finds its climax in Him. John Calvin similarly explains that the deliverance of Israel out of Egypt was a figure of the greater deliverance that would be manifested in Christ. A. W. Pink writes that in Christ the history of Israel is recapitulated, so that what was true of the nation in shadow is true of Christ in fullness. Those are not artificial observations. They arise naturally from Matthew’s own method. Matthew is not misusing Hosea. He is reading Hosea through the lens of fulfillment. He is showing us that what God began in Israel, He brings to completion in Christ.

This is one of the glorious realities of redemptive history: the Lord Jesus does not merely enter the story of the Bible; He gathers it into Himself. He is not a side note to the story of Israel. He is the point of it. He is not merely another figure in the line. He is the One to whom the line was leading. The Exodus pointed to Him. The wilderness pointed to Him. The sonship of Israel pointed to Him. All of it was moving toward Christ.

And do not miss the comfort in this. The road to redemption includes exile, but exile does not mean abandonment. The Son is in Egypt, but He is no less the Son. The path is lowly, but the plan is divine. The circumstances are difficult, but the Word of God is being fulfilled. For Joseph and Mary, Egypt may have seemed like a strange place to be. For the reader, it may seem surprising that the Messiah would be driven out of the land so early. But God is not improvising. God is not adjusting to Herod. God is accomplishing what He spoke beforehand.

That has direct application for the people of God. Sometimes obedience takes us into hard places. Sometimes faithfulness does not lead into comfort but into difficulty. Sometimes the path of following Christ feels more like a midnight escape than a public triumph. But the difficult road is not evidence of the absence of God. It may very well be the path on which the providence of God is most clearly leading. The Child is protected in exile because the hand of God is upon Him. And the people of God can trust that same hand, even when the road leads through the unknown.

II. The King Opposed by the World

Beginning in verse 16 the scene darkens further. “Then when Herod saw that he had been tricked by the magi, he became very enraged.” Herod had expected the magi to return. Bethlehem was near Jerusalem. The trip should not have taken long. But as time passed and the magi did not come back, Herod realized that his plan had failed. Matthew says he was “very enraged.” The language is strong. Morris notes that the wording conveys furious anger. MacArthur likewise emphasizes the depth of Herod’s rage and the way it overtook him.

This fits everything we know about Herod. He was suspicious, violent, and profoundly cruel. He murdered rivals. He killed members of his own family. His cruelty had become proverbial. This is the kind of man who would massacre children in order to preserve his throne.

Matthew tells us that Herod “sent and slew all the male children who were in Bethlehem and all its vicinity, from two years old and under, according to the time which he had carefully determined from the magi.” Bethlehem was a small town, so the number may not have been large by the standards of history, but every single child was precious, and every single home touched by this decree was devastated. Morris suggests the number may have been around twenty or so, given the size of the village. But no parent measures grief statistically. To those families, this was unspeakable sorrow.

This is one of the clearest revelations in Scripture of what worldly power does when it feels threatened by Christ. Herod does not reason. He does not investigate. He does not repent. He lashes out. He murders. He destroys. That is the nature of fallen power when it is confronted by the rule of God. The kingdoms of this world are willing to sacrifice the innocent to preserve themselves.

And let us be clear: Herod is not merely a historical curiosity. He is a picture of the human heart in rebellion against God. Fallen man does not naturally welcome Christ’s rule. Apart from grace, he resists it. He may not always resist it with a sword, but he resists it. He wants autonomy. He wants self-rule. He wants a throne without interruption. That is why the coming of Christ is never neutral. If Christ is King, then I am not. If Christ is Lord, then I must bow. Herod would rather kill than bow.

Matthew then says that this too fulfills Scripture. “Then what had been spoken through Jeremiah the prophet was fulfilled, saying, ‘A VOICE WAS HEARD IN RAMAH, WEEPING AND GREAT MOURNING, RACHEL WEEPING FOR HER CHILDREN; AND SHE WAS REFUSING TO BE COMFORTED, BECAUSE THEY WERE NO MORE.’”

The quotation is from Jeremiah 31:15. In Jeremiah’s own context the verse is tied to the grief of Israel in exile. Rachel, as the symbolic mother of Israel, is pictured as weeping over her children as they are taken away. Matthew sees in the mourning of Bethlehem an echo of that earlier sorrow. The grief of God’s people continues to reverberate through history, and here it rises again in a fresh and terrible form.

Matthew Henry comments that this was lamentation, and mourning, and great mourning, language that emphasizes the depth and bitterness of the sorrow. These mothers refuse comfort because the children “are no more.” The wound is real. The pain is not minimized. Scripture never asks us to pretend that such a thing is light.

And yet Matthew’s use of Jeremiah 31 is profoundly important. Jeremiah 31 does not end in tears. It moves from tears to hope. Just beyond the verse Matthew cites, the Lord says, “Restrain your voice from weeping and your eyes from tears; for your work shall be rewarded … and there is hope for your future.” Then later in the chapter the Lord promises the new covenant: “I will forgive their iniquity, and their sin I will remember no more.”

That means the sorrow of Bethlehem, though real, does not have the last word. The mourning of Rachel is not the end of the story. The chapter from which Matthew quotes bends toward restoration. The tears are gathered into a larger promise. The lament is set within a context of future redemption.

That matters because it helps us understand how Matthew wants us to read this event. He does not mention Jeremiah merely to say, “This was predicted.” He mentions Jeremiah to show that even sorrow is being gathered into God’s redeeming purpose. The Messiah enters a world of tears, and His coming does not bypass that sorrow but passes through it. He comes into the exile of His people in order to end it. He comes into the grief of a fallen world in order to redeem it. He comes into the place of death in order to conquer it.

Spurgeon, reflecting on the hostility shown toward Christ from the beginning, remarked that the dragon stood ready to devour the child. That imagery is fitting. The kingdom of darkness recognizes the threat of the promised Redeemer. And yet the dragon cannot prevail. The child is preserved. The rage is real, but it is not ultimate.

MacArthur notes that the massacre at Bethlehem represents the beginning of the intensified warfare between the kingdom of Christ and the kingdom of this world. That warfare will continue throughout Christ’s life and ministry. It will surface in plots, accusations, rejection, betrayal, and crucifixion. But even then the enemies of Christ will only serve the purpose of God. They will not defeat the plan of redemption; they will unwittingly advance it.

There is pastoral help here for us as well. We live in a world where evil is real, cruelty is real, and sorrow is real. This passage does not invite superficial optimism. It does not ask us to deny the pain of life in a fallen world. Bethlehem teaches us to weep. It teaches us that the coming of Christ into the world does not immediately remove all affliction. But it also teaches us that no grief exists outside the providence of God. No tear falls beyond His knowledge. No act of evil overturns His purpose. The tears of Rachel are heard, and they are heard by the God who has promised redemption.

For the believer, that does not answer every question. It does not make every providence easy. But it gives us solid ground beneath our feet. Evil is not sovereign. Herod is not sovereign. Death is not sovereign. God is sovereign. And because He is, sorrow is never meaningless in His hands.

III. The King Prepared in Humility

In verse 19 the scene changes once more: “But when Herod died, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt.” Herod dies. The tyrant falls. The persecutor passes away. Matthew Henry says it plainly: “Herods must die.” That is a simple statement, but it is full of encouragement. The enemies of Christ are temporary. They rage for a moment, but their breath is in their nostrils. Their power is borrowed and brief. They may terrify the godly for a season, but they do not endure. Herod dies. Christ lives.

The angel says, “Get up, take the Child and His mother, and go into the land of Israel; for those who sought the Child’s life are dead.” Again Joseph receives instruction, and again Joseph obeys. Verse 21 says, “So Joseph got up, took the Child and His mother, and came into the land of Israel.”

Joseph’s obedience is a quiet but constant thread in these early chapters. He is not a dramatic figure, yet his faithful responsiveness to the Word of God is set before us again and again. Every time the Lord speaks, Joseph moves. He is a just man not only in conviction but in conduct.

But the story is not over. Verse 22 says, “But when he heard that Archelaus was reigning over Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there.” Archelaus, like his father, had a reputation for cruelty. Matthew does not criticize Joseph’s fear; he simply records it. There are fears that are not the fruit of unbelief but of sober judgment. Joseph is not panicking. He is discerning danger. And once again God meets him in that place with guidance.

“Then after being warned by God in a dream, he departed for the district of Galilee, and came and lived in a city called Nazareth.”

Now we come to the final fulfillment statement in the passage: “so that what was spoken through the prophets would be fulfilled: ‘He shall be called a Nazarene.’”

This is a difficult phrase because no exact Old Testament verse says those exact words. But Matthew says “prophets,” plural, which suggests he is drawing together a broader prophetic theme rather than citing a single text. The idea is not hard to see. The prophets repeatedly present the Messiah as lowly, despised, and rejected. Isaiah 53 is the clearest example: “He was despised and forsaken of men.” Psalm 22 speaks of the suffering righteous one as “a reproach of men and despised by the people.” The Messiah would not come in worldly splendor. He would come in humiliation.

Nazareth fits that theme. Nazareth was obscure. Nazareth was undistinguished. Nazareth carried no aura of royal majesty. As Morris notes, had Jesus been known as “Jesus of Bethlehem,” there would have been immediate messianic overtones connected to David’s city, but “Jesus the Nazarene” carried overtones of contempt. Even Nathanael will later say, “Can any good thing come out of Nazareth?”

Calvin writes that this fulfilled the prophetic teaching that Christ would be of no reputation in the eyes of the world. Spurgeon captures the wonder of it by saying that He who made the stars was content to dwell in a carpenter’s home. A. W. Pink similarly notes that from the beginning the path of Christ was one of humiliation, setting before us the lowliness of the Redeemer.

Nazareth is therefore not an embarrassing footnote. It is a theological signpost. It tells us that the way of Christ is the way of humiliation before exaltation. The King comes lowly. The Redeemer comes despised. The Savior enters fully into the condition of those He has come to save.

That too is part of the comfort of the gospel. Our Lord is not distant from the lowly. He is not ashamed of humble circumstances. He is not inaccessible to the despised. He has walked the path of reproach. He knows what it is to be dismissed, underestimated, and rejected. He is a fitting Savior for sinners because He has not remained far above them. He has come near.

Conclusion

When we step back and look at Matthew 2:13–23 as a whole, the message is unmistakable. From the earliest days of His life, Jesus faced hostility, suffering, danger, exile, sorrow, and humiliation. The King is hunted. Mothers weep. A family flees. A child grows up in obscurity. And yet through every dark turn of the story, one reality remains unchanged: God is fulfilling His Word and preserving His King.

Herod plots, but God warns. Herod kills, but God preserves. Herod dies, but the Christ lives. Egypt becomes a refuge. Ramah’s weeping is set within a larger promise. Nazareth becomes the place where prophecy is quietly fulfilled. The hand of God is everywhere in the passage, sometimes openly seen and sometimes inferred through fulfillment, but always present.

This matters because the child preserved here is the same Christ who will later go to the cross. The hostility that surfaces in Herod will mature in the leaders of Israel. The rejection that begins in infancy will culminate at Golgotha. The world that would destroy Him as a child will crucify Him as a man. But even there, the enemies of Christ will not triumph over the plan of God. At the cross, as in Bethlehem, heaven will rule. What men mean for evil, God will mean for good. Through the death of the Son, God will bring life to His people.

Spurgeon said, “The enemies of Christ may plot, but heaven rules.” That is exactly right. And Matthew 2 proves it.

So the question this text presses upon us is not merely, “What happened to Jesus in His infancy?” The question is, “What will you do with this King?” Will you respond like Herod, resisting His rule because you want your own throne? Will you respond like Jerusalem, troubled by Him but unmoved toward Him? Will you respond like the chief priests and scribes, informed about Him but unwilling to seek Him? Or will you respond like the magi, falling before Him in worship?

Because this Child is not merely preserved for His own sake. He is preserved for ours. He is preserved so that He might live the life of obedience we have not lived, die the death we deserve to die, and rise again in victory over sin and death. He is the true Son. He is the promised King. He is the Redeemer of sinners.

And therefore the right response to Him is faith, worship, obedience, and trust. If God so governed every step of Christ’s early life, then you may trust Him with every step of yours. If no rage of man could overthrow God’s purpose in Christ, then no power in this world can overthrow His purpose for those who belong to Christ. If the road of redemption passed through exile, sorrow, and humiliation before it reached glory, then the trials of the Christian life are not signs of God’s abandonment but often the very path by which His wisdom leads us.

So let us bow before this King. Let us trust the providence of this God. Let us rest in the Christ who was preserved for our salvation. And let us remember that the King who was carried into Egypt, spared from Herod, and raised in Nazareth now reigns at the Father’s right hand, and one day every knee will bow and every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

Closing Prayer

Our Father in heaven,

We thank You for sending Your Son into this world to accomplish our salvation. Thank You that no power of man or darkness could stop Your redemptive plan.

Help us to trust in Your sovereign providence when we face trials and uncertainties. Give us courage to follow Christ faithfully in a world that often opposes Him.

May our lives proclaim that Jesus is King. May our church remain faithful to His gospel. And may we live with joyful expectation of the day when every knee will bow and every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord.

We ask this in His holy name.

Amen.