1. The Era of the Violent King Herod and the Meaning of Bethlehem
Matthew 2, which Pastor David Jang preaches on in his Lenten devotional, begins with the phrase, “After Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of King Herod.” This seemingly simple sentence carries very profound historical and spiritual implications. Indeed, the point in time when Jesus came to earth for the salvation of humanity was during the reign of a cruel and wicked king named Herod. Historically, Herod is known to have employed merciless methods to maintain his power and authority. According to historical records, he even gave a final order that when he died, those respected by the people should be killed simultaneously, fearing that his death would be celebrated by the populace. It is also said that he killed hundreds of judges from the Jewish Sanhedrin, and he did not hesitate to execute even his own family and close associates if he suspected their loyalty. Thus, the period in which the “false king” held sway was precisely the time when Jesus was born, and Matthew juxtaposes this dark backdrop with the joyous news of Jesus’ birth, emphasizing that the coming of the Savior did not occur in a peaceful or romantic setting.
If we look more closely at the historical context, Judea was under Roman rule. Rome managed its various territories with a mixture of direct and indirect governance—some places were ruled by Roman governors, while in other regions, Rome installed puppet rulers who would do its bidding. Herod the Great reigned over Israel (Judea) with Rome’s permission in the period shortly before Jesus was born. He was a highly skilled political strategist but also exceptionally violent and cruel. When he was ill and close to death, he is said to have plotted the simultaneous deaths of numerous prominent and beloved figures so that the people would not rejoice at the news of his own demise. Variations of this gruesome story appear repeatedly in historical sources. In Acts 12, we even read, “Immediately, because Herod did not give praise to God, an angel of the Lord struck him down, and he was eaten by worms and died” (Acts 12:23), referring to the pitiful demise of the Herodian line (which included Herod Antipas, Herod Agrippa, and so on). Among that Herodian dynasty, the “Herod the king” mentioned in Matthew 2 is recorded as the most infamous of them all.
It was into this era of death and fear—a time when the false king reigned—that Jesus was born. Many people remember Christmas as a romantic festival with cheerful carols, bright lights, and warm gift exchanges. But the situation depicted in the text is anything but romantic. Against the rough historical backdrop, Matthew actually underscores how the light of salvation becomes all the more evident in those circumstances.
Jesus was born in “Bethlehem of Judea.” Bethlehem is the hometown of David, and for the Jewish people, it was not merely a rural village but rather bore symbolic significance related to the lineage of King David—“the City of David.” The expectation that the Messiah, the “King of the Jews,” would be of David’s lineage had already been solidified through numerous Old Testament prophecies. Bethlehem, therefore, carried great significance for the Israelites as “the place of David’s birth.” Yet at the same time, it was a small and insignificant village, delivering an ironic message: when the Messiah King came, He did not arrive in a grand city or a royal palace brimming with power. Instead, He was born in a lowly and neglected setting, revealing the true meaning of the Incarnation.
Moreover, the name “Bethlehem” means “house of bread.” In John 6, Jesus calls Himself “the Bread of Life” (“I am the living bread that came down from heaven”). From this vantage point, it is profoundly “revelatory” that the “Bread of Life” was born in the “House of Bread.” It suggests the delicate providence of God in His work of redemption.
Another significant expression in the text is “was born.” When Matthew 2:1 says, “After Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea,” it clarifies that the Christ did not merely exist in some abstract, heavenly form and suddenly “descend on a cloud.” Rather, He was actually born at a specific point in human history, in a specific location and time. The Jews, based on Daniel 7 and other texts, expected the Messiah to come with the clouds of heaven in great glory (which, of course, will be more clearly fulfilled at the Second Coming). In contrast, during His first coming, He arrived in the lowliest position—as a child, the Son of Man—and this was a shocking reversal. By recording this, Matthew emphasizes the tangible and historical reality of the Messiah’s birth.
Amazingly, the ones who first sensed this extraordinary event were the Magi from the East. Surprisingly, it was not the chief priests, scribes, or teachers of the Law in the land of Judea; rather, it was these “outsiders” from a foreign land who observed the stars. “We have seen His star in the east and have come to worship Him” (Matt. 2:2). This confession of the Magi shows that, rather than the religious leaders who took pride in their orthodox Jewish faith, it was actually Gentiles who recognized the coming of the Messiah and hurried to worship Him.
This raises a piercing question from Matthew 2: “Why did the religious leaders of God’s chosen people, who had waited for the Messiah for so long, fail even to notice His arrival?” This question still resonates with us today. Even if we have attended church for a long time, possess much theological knowledge, and participate in many religious activities, we may fail to sense what God is doing. The passage warns us of the danger of falling into a state of spiritual stagnation.
Although the Magi were astrologers or persons preoccupied with observing celestial movements, they keenly observed the heavens and set out on a long journey to find the “King of the Jews” when they saw unusual signs in the stars. The fact that these Gentiles, not belonging to God’s chosen people, displayed such reverence and curiosity ironically highlights the ignorance, indifference, and spiritual dullness of the “chosen.” Through this contrast, Matthew exposes how grave the spiritual condition of the Jews was at the time.
If we approach the story of Jesus’ birth only as a romantic tale, we might picture only warm scenes of “Baby Jesus,” “the gifts of the Magi,” or “shepherds in the fields.” However, Matthew reveals the backdrop of looming death, violence, political conspiracy, and spiritual darkness, showing that this salvation drama was enacted in the midst of a wicked and corrupt world. In his sermons, Pastor David Jang similarly emphasizes that the birth of Christ occurred in the midst of a very real and intense spiritual battle, not in a serene and peaceful environment. He stresses that the fact God personally entered human history in spite of the tumult is the very reason we have genuine hope.
Furthermore, reflecting on Bethlehem’s significance, we see that it was both known as “the City of David” and literally meant “House of Bread.” People’s physical hunger is satisfied by bread. Likewise, spiritually famished humanity can only be satisfied by Jesus Christ, the “true Bread of Life.” The fact that Jesus came to Bethlehem announces that the Savior entered our world to satisfy the deepest hunger of the human condition. Yet in a paradoxical twist, Bethlehem was considered insignificant in the eyes of contemporary worldly powers. Just as prophesied in Micah 5:2, “But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are small among the clans of Judah…,” God’s plan of salvation always unfolds in ways that contradict worldly logic. The Messiah’s humble arrival in a lowly place marked the beginning of the kingdom of God, which would expand from such a small starting point. And the fact that foreigners (the Magi) were the first to rejoice and recognize Him foreshadowed the global reach of the gospel beyond the borders of Israel.
Thus, even a short phrase in Matthew 2:1 hints at Herod’s cruelty, the symbolism of Bethlehem, and the historical reality of “was born,” dramatically revealing the astounding story of salvation in Jesus Christ. We see a strong contrast between the false king dominating that era and the true King, between the world power flaunting its might and the Messiah who came in weakness, and between the chosen people who were spiritually blind and the Gentiles who discovered the truth. All these elements capture the essence of what Matthew intentionally portrays in this “drama of paradox” in chapter 2.
From Pastor David Jang’s perspective, too, the confrontation between brutal governing powers and the humble Christ lying in a manger is the heart of the gospel. Though Christ came in the humblest form, He overturned the power of sin and death precisely through that humility. This is not merely a one-time historical event; it remains the same principle of salvation at work in our personal lives. The birth in Bethlehem challenges us: “Which king do we truly follow?” “Do we serve a false king—claiming to be the lord of our own life—or do we receive Jesus, the true King, and yield our souls to Him?” The Christmas story, then, goes beyond holiday romance and pierces believers’ hearts with these penetrating questions. Moreover, in remembering that God’s plan was not thwarted by Herod’s oppression but rather became all the clearer, we reaffirm that no matter the darkness of the times or the depth of our despair, God’s salvation and truth never vanish.
2. The Magi, Spiritual Awakening, and Lessons for Our Generation
Moving from Matthew 2:1 to 2:2, we encounter the Magi in earnest: “Where is He who has been born King of the Jews? For we saw His star in the east and have come to worship Him.” In Greek, the Magi are called “magoi,” typically thought to be individuals from Babylon, Persia, or other eastern regions who studied astronomy and astrology. Scholars debate their exact origins and academic backgrounds, but they generally agree that these Magi were Gentiles, not part of Jewish tradition, and believed that celestial phenomena could reveal major events such as the birth of a king.
What stands out is that they were not merely star-gazing astrologers; they took the signs they observed seriously, enduring many dangers and inconveniences to journey a great distance. Moreover, they did so with a reverent or religious attitude—“to worship Him.” This illustrates a key message of the Gospel of Matthew as a whole: the path of salvation is open to the Gentiles, and the faith of the Gentiles, ironically, exposes the ignorance and pride of God’s “chosen people.”
When the Magi asked King Herod, “Where is He who has been born King of the Jews?” Herod was both fearful and enraged, and all Jerusalem with him (Matt. 2:3). We can interpret this uproar in two ways. First, there was a political dimension: the title “King of the Jews” suggested a new claimant to the throne, threatening Herod’s authority. Second, there was an element of spiritual dullness and disbelief: those who had some vague knowledge of the prophecies regarding the Messiah were suddenly confronted with, “He’s already born,” causing them confusion and turmoil.
Notably, the chief priests and scribes, who had studied the Law and the prophecies for ages, did not respond as the Magi did. Though they quoted Micah 5 to identify Bethlehem as the birthplace of the Messiah, they themselves did not travel there to worship or investigate. By contrast, the Magi came all the way from the East, guided by their observation of the star. This contrast is central to Matthew 2.
Even today, we might attend church, study Scripture, and accumulate theological knowledge, yet fail to live a life of obedience and “actual movement” in accordance with God’s Word. We may say, “Christ is our King,” but remain stuck in the inertia of routine religion without any real desire to worship or follow that King. Here, the Magi provide a striking example for modern believers. Despite their unfamiliar background, they possessed a longing for truth and took tangible steps in pursuit of it.
Their example reminds us that God’s revelation can appear anywhere, and that the true worshiper is the one who responds sensitively to that revelation and acts on it. While the Jewish religious leaders, secure in their “chosen” status, were blind to the Son of God in their midst, the Magi traveled hundreds of miles to Jerusalem upon seeing an unusual star. Pastor David Jang often uses this story to highlight that what matters most is “spiritual alertness and the courage to act on it.” He frequently critiques how many within the church merely recite confessions of faith but in practice succumb to worldly authority or focus only on keeping religious rituals, rather than following the way of true devotion. The Magi’s journey of commitment is, he suggests, the model that believers should emulate.
Ultimately, the Magi arrived in Bethlehem, worshiped Jesus, and presented Him with gifts of gold, incense (frankincense), and myrrh (Matt. 2:11). These gifts are typically interpreted as symbolizing royalty, divinity (the priestly dimension), and a foreshadowing of death. Gold signifies Jesus’ identity as the true King, frankincense His holiness, and myrrh His preparation for the cross. By recording that Gentiles worshiped Jesus, Matthew proclaims that Jesus is not only the Savior of the Jews but of all nations—anticipating Jesus’ later mandate, “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations” (Matt. 28:19).
So, what does “Herod” symbolize here? He represents worldly power, violence, fear, and a tenacious grip on self-interest. Initially, Herod pretended that he, too, wanted to worship the Messiah, saying he wished to “go and worship Him” (Matt. 2:8), when in reality he was plotting to kill the child. This reflects the deceitful and violent ways in which earthly powers seek to reject the “true King.” After his plan was thwarted, Herod infamously ordered the massacre of all boys two years old and under in the Bethlehem region (Matt. 2:16). Matthew notes that this fulfilled the Old Testament prophecy (“A voice was heard in Ramah…” from Jer. 31:15).
We must also not overlook the silence or apathy of the Jewish religious leaders and the public. When the Magi declared, “We saw His star and came to worship Him,” the leaders had enough scholarly and religious knowledge to recall the prophecies in Micah. Yet their knowledge did not spur them to action; their feet remained still. Perhaps their pride in “already knowing” and their complacency in “having studied enough of the Law and prophecies” had led them into a state of spiritual insensitivity. Matthew’s text warns that a similar dynamic can happen in the church today.
One of the lessons from this scene is that “claiming to see or to know can actually blind us spiritually” (see John 9:41). People can attend church, study the Bible, and converse about theology, yet remain oblivious to how the Spirit of God is currently moving—what new works He may be doing and through whom. Meanwhile, those regarded as “unbelievers” by church standards may be the ones who are spiritually alert. This is precisely what happened with the Magi.
Pastor David Jang frequently underscores this point in his sermons and writings. He cautions that when church members no longer listen to God’s voice, sometimes God will stir people outside the church to grasp the Word and challenge the church, awakening it. This is a warning about how the contemporary church, having become overly formalized or institutionalized, may lose its “spiritual sensitivity.” The church was originally intended to carry the “vision of the kingdom of God,” serving the world and shining the light of truth. But once it grows too fixated on preserving its system or power structure, it risks missing the fresh works the Lord is doing—much like Herod and his court, who saw news of the Messiah’s birth not as cause for celebration but as a threat to their power.
Hence, the Magi’s example of “true worshipers” is immensely instructive. First, when they saw the star, they didn’t merely gaze at it with passing interest. They did not simply feel a mystic fascination; rather, they took tangible steps and endured hardship by traveling all the way to Bethlehem. Second, they worshiped Jesus wholeheartedly, offering their treasures. Presenting gold, frankincense, and myrrh signifies their recognition that Jesus was indeed King and divine. Third, they demonstrated a new direction for life by obeying God’s guidance. After meeting Jesus, “they departed to their own country by another way” (Matt. 2:12) because God warned them in a dream not to return to Herod. This act symbolizes “sensitive obedience” to the will of God.
The most tragic moment in this story is Herod’s decision to massacre all the male infants in Bethlehem two years old and younger (Matt. 2:16–18). Still, God protects the Christ child so that His mission of salvation continues. This powerfully illustrates that no earthly force can sabotage God’s sovereign plan.
In our present day, we too need the resolve to “go another way.” If we have truly encountered Jesus, we cannot keep living as we once did—cozying up to the world’s power structures that Herod represents. We must turn from the path that worships worldly logic, desire, greed, deceit, fear, and violence, choosing instead to follow Jesus and walk in obedience to Him. Such a pivot is the heart of true worship, and it is the essence of what the Magi model for us.
In this way, the text reminds the church of a vital truth it must never forget: “God’s work of salvation unfolds in the real-life sphere of fierce struggle, involving a costly price.” Jesus did not come as an infant only to lead a peaceful life. From His very birth, danger and persecution surrounded Him. During His public ministry, too, He was dogged by the Pharisees, scribes, and other opponents, culminating in His own death on the cross. Thus, the gospel is far from a mere romantic narrative; it is the powerful intervention of God challenging the powers of this world, a cosmic spiritual battle taking place in human history.
On the basis of such biblical texts, Pastor David Jang consistently poses the question, “How will we read our times?” Just as in the days of King Herod 2,000 years ago, false kings and dark powers still exert strong influence in our world today. Political power, materialism, and self-centered desires can blind our eyes and deafen our ears so that we fail to recognize God’s living work. Even the church faces this challenge. If the church fails to submit to Christ as the true King and instead exalts only forms, institutions, and worldly values, we could see a role reversal where “Magi from the outside” become the ones to awaken the church.
Still, as the Magi did come, God also continues to raise up people who seek and worship Him. It does not matter whether they are inside or outside the church; what matters is a heart filled with a genuine yearning and reverence for the Messiah. To those who look for the star, God opens the way and leads them to meet Jesus. This applies to our own spiritual lives. Sometimes God reveals Himself to us in ways we do not expect, and it is those who respond who become true worshipers.
The greatest challenge from Matthew 2 is: “What will our response be?” Will we, like Herod, react with fear and jealousy, clinging to our privilege and power? Will we, like the Jewish religious leaders, only have intellectual knowledge of biblical prophecy without ever taking steps to worship and obey? Or will we, like the Magi, be quick to recognize God’s signs, move our feet, and offer worship and devotion? This question is not confined to first-century Palestine but cuts into the hearts of everyone living in the twenty-first century.
Moreover, as evident from Herod’s massacre, the path of faith and the unfolding of God’s salvation do not take place in a serene, pain-free zone. Even in the joy of the shepherds or the Magi who worshiped the newborn Jesus, there was an undercurrent of terror, as many babies died at Herod’s command. Yet, amid such anguish and chaos, God’s purpose remains unbroken, and Jesus continues to stand as the perfect Savior. We see here how God’s goodness and sovereignty outlast the evil and suffering of this world. Jesus’ life ultimately culminated in His death on the cross and resurrection, opening the path of salvation for all humanity. In that sense, Matthew 2 is a microcosm of how the kingdom of God begins on earth, what price it exacts, and how it unfolds.
Thus, the events of Matthew 2 are far more than a one-time historical episode. They continue to speak powerfully to us today: “If Jesus were to come again, would we recognize Him?” “Would we be like the Magi, seeking and worshiping Him?” “Or would we, paralyzed by spiritual complacency, pride in our traditions, and attachment to our earthly privileges, fail to discern or even reject His coming?” These are not questions to be considered only at Christmas; they probe the spiritual state of our hearts year-round.
Pastor David Jang, emphasizing the “faith in the Second Coming,” likewise urges all Christians to revisit the message of Matthew 2. He warns that even those who profess to “long for the Second Coming” may end up missing Jesus’ work when He moves in unexpected ways, just as the religious leaders of Israel, though well-versed in the Law and the Prophets, failed to recognize the Messiah’s birth. Therefore, the church must remain awake, and believers must continually discern the times through prayer and the Word.
In that sense, the “spiritual sensitivity and devotion” demonstrated by the Magi is a precious model for the church and its members. Certainly, from the vantage point of modern Christianity, the Magi’s background in astrology and foreign religion is rather strange. Yet with their limited knowledge, they still reached out toward the light of truth, giving their lives and resources to worship the Lord. This stands as a strong challenge to those who think “I already know all there is to know about faith because I’ve been in church all my life.” That attitude might actually reveal a spiritual stagnation. In contrast, the Magi’s example of continual seeking and resolute action to draw near to the Lord is the posture of genuine faith.
Matthew 2 vividly depicts how, in the midst of a world clouded by cruelty and danger, the Son of God humbly entered and shone His light upon all humanity. Though Herod schemed wickedly and many infants perished, God’s sovereignty was never thwarted. This truth still holds today. There are still powerful systems of falsehood, greed, and violence that resist the gospel. Yet, for those who seek Jesus, God’s guidance remains open, and the church is called to be a worshiping community that hails the one true King. Walking this path often involves suffering and sacrifice, but it leads us to genuine salvation and eternal life.
Hence, the dramatic confrontation found in Matthew 2 (Herod vs. Jesus, Jewish religious leaders vs. the Magi) is a recurring pattern in the story of salvation and a continual challenge to every generation. Accepting Jesus as the Messiah-king inevitably clashes with worldly methods and with religious pride. Yet God still reveals His light to those who search for Him and comes into the midst of human history to fulfill His plan. Here we realize again that faith is not merely a one-time confession; it is a continual journey of vigilance and response.
Today’s church and believers must look into this chapter as a mirror. Are we ready, like the Magi, to respond immediately when we witness God’s sign and rush to worship Jesus? Or does our biblical and theological knowledge feed our spiritual arrogance, causing us to miss God’s living and dynamic work? When God’s plan unfolds in ways that challenge our comfort zone, will we recognize it with joy or reject it out of fear and resistance?
Pastor David Jang repeatedly links this passage to the theme of church revival. Revival, he explains, involves “newly awakened individuals” rising up to worship Jesus. Sometimes this awakening happens in unexpected people, like the Magi who “came from the outside” to stir the church from slumber. Meanwhile, those who might appear mature in faith may need repentance and renewal because, like the religious leaders of old, they fail to see the Messiah. All of this flows from a proper reading of Matthew 2.
The Magi’s question, “Where is He who has been born King of the Jews?” (Matt. 2:2) still resonates 2,000 years later. Jesus has come, and He desires to dwell at the center of our lives today. Do we truly regard Him as “King of the Jews,” the King of the universe, my King? Our answer is revealed not just by our words but by our deeds of worship, devotion, and obedience. The humble cry of a baby in a manger in Bethlehem—the “house of bread”—heralded God’s plan of salvation that would spread to the whole world. It is an invitation to the reign of the “true King.” Those who perceive it and join in experience joy and salvation; those who reject it face a dark end, like Herod’s demise. Therefore, we must worship that child with faith and follow Him.
“Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; He is the Messiah, the Lord” (Luke 2:11). This proclamation did not only echo 2,000 years ago; it still resounds in our hearts. Anyone who genuinely approaches Him finds in Jesus, the King, the bread of life, the living water, and the reality of God’s kingdom. If we truly receive the challenge of Matthew 2, then, like the Magi, we will say in every moment, “We have come to worship Him.” That confession points to the high calling the church must reclaim. We must awaken spiritually, like the Magi, refusing to bow to any Herod-like power, instead seeking and worshiping the one true King. That, as the text so powerfully reminds us, is the path we are called to tread.