Every Christmas, we set up the nativity scene: shepherds, angels, a humble stable, and off to the side, three majestic figures on camels—the Magi, the “Wise Men” from the East. They have traveled far, guided by a star, carrying gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. The gold was because this baby was a king, the frankincense was to worship his divinity, and the myrrh because this baby was born to die- for the sins of the world. We admire their journey, sing about them in carols, and then pack everything away until next December. But the Gospel of Matthew never intended for their story to be seasonal decoration. It was written as a permanent invitation: Wise men—and women—still seek Him.
The Magi were not Jews waiting for Messiah. They were Gentile scholars, probably Persian or Babylonian astrologers and priests, men whose entire worldview was built on observing the heavens for signs from the gods. Yet when an unusual star appeared, they did something radical: they left comfort, reputation, and certainty to follow it. They risked looking foolish. They crossed deserts and hostile territories. They asked a paranoid king for directions (never a safe move). All because they believed this star pointed to a greater King, one worthy of worship. Their names are not mentioned because it was never about themit was about the one they sought.
Two thousand years later, we live in a world filled with all sorts of stars: movie stars, singing stars, political stars and sports stars to name a few. Many people live their lives chasing these stars, but these stars will never bring fulfillment. Many people follow stars today known as “influencers”, and yet when the curtain is pulled back many of these influencers cannot even guide their own lives much less the lives of anyone else.
