The magi show up.

Matthew 2.1-3.

Too many Christians forget our words Messiah and Christ both mean king.

Yes, they literally translate as “anointed [one].” But the ancients didn’t use these words to mean just anyone who’d been anointed with oil. It referred to Israel’s king, who’d been anointed to represent God granting him the Holy Spirit’s power to lead. It’s a royal title. It means you’re king. If you wandered ancient Israel calling yourself Messiah, people would either think you were crazy, like some bum on the street insisting he’s the emperor; or they’d think you had plans on taking the kingdom away from its then-current occupant.

In 5BC, that’d be Herod bar Antipater. And a lot of Israelis felt he wasn’t the legitimate Messiah. For the past century and a half, the head priests of the Hasmonean family had held the office of king. But 32 years before, in 37BC, Roman triumvir Marcus Antonius had backed Herod as he overthrew Antigonus bar Aristobulus, the last Hasmonean king, and took the title for himself. He was neither a priest, nor a descendant of King David ben Jesse like Jesus is. He wasn’t even Israeli; his father was an Idumean Edomite, and his mother a Nabatean Arab. He’s a descendant of Abraham on both sides, but not Israel, and the Law forbade the Israelis from making a non-Israeli their king. Dt 17.15 Not that they had any say in the matter.

Because of the way he seized power, Herod was super paranoid about anyone who might try to overthrow him. Many tried and failed, including Herod’s own family members; including his own kids. He knew Israelis didn’t want him there. It’s why all his palaces were fortresses, in case he had to defend himself from his own subjects; it’s why most of his bodyguard were Europeans, not fellow middle easterners. So you didn’t wanna get on Herod’s bad side. Cæsar Augustus used to joke he’d rather be Herod’s pig than his son. Herod executed three of his sons, and since Judeans didn’t eat pork, Augustus’s comment was quite apt.

So you can see how today’s story would trigger Herod:

Matthew 2.1-3 KWL

1Around when Jesus is born in Bethlehem, Judea,

in the days of King Herod,

look: Magi from the east come to Jerusalem,

2saying, “Where’s the newborn king of the Judeans?

For we see his star in the east,

and we come to pay him respect.”

3Hearing this agitated King Herod,

and all Jerusalem with him.

Yep, agitating Herod meant he might get murdery, so all Jerusalem was agitated too. Well, the magi didn’t know any better.

What are magi?

Christmas carols and Christian mythology claim these magi were three eastern kings—and for some reason two of them are white, even though whites should’ve come from the north; and one is black, even though blacks should’ve come from the west. (“But they could’ve been Europeans and Africans who went east to study with the magi!” Yeah, unlikely.)

The Greek word μάγος translates the Persian word مجوس/magus, meaning priest. Priests of what? Of Zoroastrianism. It’s a religion founded by the Avestan/Iranian prophet Zarathustra (Persian زرتشت/Zartošt). We’ve no idea how long ago he lived; he could be a contemporary of David (the 1000s BC), or Abraham (the 2000s BC) for all we know. The history’s been lost. But by the time of Kuruš 2 (KJV “Cyrus”) Zoroastrianism was the state religion of the Persian Empire.

To ancient Greeks, Persia was the bad guy in their history, and they didn’t know squat (and didn’t care) about its kings and religions. Their historians relied on rumors and legends—some of which were totally fabricated, but the Greeks spread these stories anyway, ’cause it’s what they had. They described Zarathustra (whose Greek name Ζωροάστρης/Zoroástris means “star worshiper”) as the creator of magic and astrology. To them, the magi were all about learning the dark arts and sorcery. Yep, the Greeks totally thought they were wizards. Our word magic descends from magi.

But no, they weren’t wizards, and weren’t kings. They were priests.

But… but the astrology! They were following a star in Matthew. Isn’t that what astrologers do?—think the stars are connected to human lives and destinies, and try to foretell the future through them? Isn’t that what the magi were doing in this passage?

Well yeah, it certainly appears so. And I’m not gonna claim these magi weren’t astrologers. But lots of people dabbled in astrology back then. It’s not part of the Zoroastrian religion… but Zoroastrians might’ve done it anyway. Same as Christians who read their horoscopes. (And shouldn’t bother, but that’s another discussion.) Lots of the ancients believed the stars foretold their future, and many a magus might’ve found it fascinating, and wasted lots of time trying to connect the dots between planetary movements and their own fortunes.

Remember, the scientific method was invented by medievals. The ancients didn’t do science: They guessed at how the universe works, and defended their guesses with clever reasoning (clever to them, anyway) instead of experiments. It’s not science; it’s philosophy. It’s why the ancients constantly mixed up astronomy with astrology, and thought it was all the same thing. Even our earliest scientific astronomers, like Galileo Galilei and Isaac Newton, still believed it was all the same thing, and tried their hands at writing horoscopes.

Anyway, the astrology in Matthew appears to confirm all the dark-arts stuff the Greeks claimed about magi, so ancient Christians simply repeated the Greek myths. But if you properly wanna know about magi, you gotta read what Zoroastrians say about themselves.

Like Christians and Jews, Zoroastrians are monotheists. They worship 𐬀𐬵𐬎𐬭𐬀/Ahura, “the Lord,” specifically 𐬀𐬵𐬎𐬭𐬀⸱𐬨𐬀𐬰𐬛𐬁/Ahura Mazda, “the Wise Lord,” the god of wisdom, the supreme being who created the universe and truth. He’s opposed by the 𐬀𐬢𐬭𐬀⸱𐬨𐬀𐬌𐬥𐬌𐬌𐬎/Angra Mainyu, “destructive spirit,” a lesser deity which produces all the chaos and lies in the universe. (Some westerners presume this spirit is an equally powerful god to Ahura, and claim Zoroastrians are really dualists. They’re not. Angra Mainyu isn’t Ahura’s equal.) At the End, Ahura will send a savior, the 𐬯𐬀𐬊𐬳𐬌𐬌𐬀𐬧𐬝/Sošiant, born of a virgin; the dead will be resurrected, and Angra Mainyu will be destroyed.

Notice a few similarities between Zoroastrianism and Christianity? But no, Zoroastrians aren’t Christians who are just using Avestan words for the very same things; it is a whole different religion. Still, the matching beliefs make a lot of scholars wonder just how much Zoroastrianism and Judaism interacted with one another once the Jews were deported to Babylon in the 500s BC. ’Cause both Nabú-kudúrri-usúr of Babylon (KJV “Nebuchadnezzar”) and Kuruš 2 of Persia had Zoroastrians among their wise men.

Wait, astrology works?

While astrology and astronomy isn’t part of the Zoroastrian religion, clearly these magi noticed something unexpected in the sky. Somehow it communicated to them a new king was born in Judea. An important king. Someone they oughta go honor. So wait: Does this this mean astrology works?

A lot of Christians figure it totally does, and use this as an excuse for why they’re so big on astrology and horoscopes. Hey, if God led the magi to Jesus, it means searching the stars for signs ain’t nothing. And this is why we find Christians who dabble in astrology throughout human history. Many great astronomers got into the study of the stars because they also believed God might reveal the future through it. Tycho Brahe, Johannes Kepler, and many titans of science were actually court astrologers. That’s astronomy’s, and Christianity’s, dirty little secret.

But if you ever bother to read horoscopes, you’ll notice most are nothing more than vague Barnum statements which could be true of anyone. Seldom do they go out on a limb and state anything truly specific to an individual; after all, their predictions have to work for everybody born within the same 30-day period. (Or, in the case of Chinese horoscopes, everybody born in the same year.) The whole practice feels like a con.

It may very well be these magi were Zoroastrian heretics—dabbling in astrology despite their religion, trying to read nature instead of talking with God in their prayers. Lots of ignorant Christians do this too. And shouldn’t. It’s a waste of time.

So if astrology is rubbish, how on earth did these magi figure out a great king would be born? Well, when we earnestly seek God, even when we’re totally looking the wrong way, sometimes God meets us where we’re at. These magi sought truth through the stars, as scientists and nature-lovers will. This one time, the Source of all truth actually waved back. Why not?

Your average Christian has no trouble with angels appearing to sheepherders, because even though preachers tend to (incorrectly) describe shepherds as awful Jews, they were still Jews. We’re mostly okay with the idea God can appear to ordinary people. But deep down, we still kinda have a problem with the fact God sometimes speaks to pagans. That, we balk at. Maybe God might communicate to devout pagans on the verge of converting, like Cornelius the Roman. Ac 10.1-3 But certainly not ordinary pagans. Particularly not pagans who are actively practicing magic. Sinners.

Yet God does this in the bible. More than once!

We don’t know what lifestyle Abraham or Moses or Gideon or Saul had when God first made contact with them. We do know Balám was an unrepentant pagan prophet-for-hire. Nu 22.5-14 We also Abimelech of Gerar was a wife-swiping pagan king. Ge 20.1-7 But God talked to these people regardless. He’s awfully gracious like that.

It’s understandable that we get anxious about the idea. We don’t want to give people the idea that salvation comes through any other route than through Jesus. ’Cause it doesn’t. Ac 4.12 However, Catholic theologian Karl Rahner came up with an interesting idea, which I largely agree with: Like Abraham, there are certain pagans who, because they believe in God as best as their limited pagan understanding can, he’s credited them with righteousness same as Abraham. Ro 4.3 “Anonymous Christians,” Rahner calls ’em. They’re saved by Jesus the same as any Christian; they just haven’t yet heard of Jesus. He saved them anonymously.

There’s a very good biblical basis for Rahner’s idea. But let’s be careful not to make the mistake of assuming every good pagan is therefore one of these “anonymous Christians.” Doesn’t matter how much you like Mohandas K. Gandhi; the man read his New Testament and was impressed by Jesus, but ultimately decided Christianity wasn’t for him, and Hinduism was. We still have to do our job and share Jesus with people, and they still have to respond to him in faith. If they do have a saving relationship with God, it’ll be no trouble at all for them to say, “Yes; your explanation fills in all the blanks!” and become Christian. And if they don’t, ’cause they have no such thing, they won’t.

Nor should we take the opposite extreme and claim God never talks to pagans. Obviously he does. After all, how’d we come to Jesus when we were pagans? How’re we gonna ever accept the good news unless the Holy Spirit has been working on us? In fact God talks to everybody. Pagans too. He’s not just our God; he’s everyone’s. He encourages pagans to follow him, same as Christians. “Prevenient grace,” the theologians call it. Granted to Zoroastrians too.