Worship or Herod: There Is No Third Way

Worship or Herod: There is No Third Way

Magi

Read

Matthew 2:1-12

Devotional

When the Magi enter the house where Jesus is, nothing about the scene looks royal. There’s no throne, no crown, no display of splendor, only a child with His mother. Yet Matthew tells us they “fell down and worshiped him” (Matt 2:11). The simplicity of the moment makes their response more striking. Something about this child demands a posture they cannot withhold.

And Matthew heightens the contrast by turning our attention to Herod. He hears the same news, but instead of bowing, he panics. To Herod, the arrival of Jesus is not inspirational. It’s dangerous. A rival King has appeared, and His very existence destabilizes every other claim to power. In this story, the difference between worshiper and enemy isn’t determined by information. It’s determined by allegiance.

And this is where the Magi confront us. We often settle for a polite admiration of Jesus. You know, it’s just enough to feel spiritual, but not enough to surrender anything. We want inspiration without obedience, affirmation without allegiance. But falling down before Jesus is not religious theater. It’s the relinquishing of the right to rule ourselves. The moment the Magi fall, their loyalties shift. Their treasures follow their knees.

Their gifts make this unmistakable. Gold, frankincense, and myrrh were treasures that would have secured their comfort, their status, their future. Those offerings now lie at the feet of a child who has claimed none of those things for Himself. This is not ceremony. This is surrender. And surrender is always costly, because all of us protect some kingdom of our own making. All of us guard places we do not want Christ to govern.

Yet Matthew refuses to let the story settle in sacrifice alone. Before the Magi ever kneel, they are already overflowing with “exceedingly…great joy” (Matt 2:10). Their joy is not a prize awarded after obedience. It is the fruit of recognizing the true King in a world full of false ones. Joy grows wherever our inner Herod begins to die.

If faith hasn’t begun to lead us into surrender, it’s worth pausing to wonder what’s happening beneath the surface. Real faith never earns anything from God, but it does begin to loosen our hold on the things we cling to most. And if we notice that nothing in us has ever yielded to Jesus, we may need to ask a gentle but honest question: Have we truly bowed, or have we simply admired Him from a safe distance?

Reflection Questions

1.     What part of my life do I keep off-limits to Jesus, and what does that reveal about who or what I truly trust?

2.     Where do I see myself admiring Christ from a distance instead of taking the next step that surrender would require?

3.     What desire for control, approval, comfort, or security rises up in me the moment Jesus asks for something costly?

Advent Prayer

Father,

You are the God who draws near before we ever think to look for You. You are the One who speaks first, who interrupts our plans with the reality of Your glory. So, I ask You to do that work in me again. Break through every place where I have settled for comfort instead of surrender. Break through the fears that keep me protecting my own kingdom. Break through the excuses I hide behind when obedience feels costly.

I confess how quickly my heart drifts toward admiration instead of allegiance. I confess how easily I talk about trusting You while quietly holding on to control. Forgive me for the places where I bow with my lips but not my life. Forgive me for wanting the benefits of Your presence without the weight of Your rule.

Lord Jesus, You are the true King. You do not need the symbols of power for Your authority to stand. You speak and the world moves. You call and Your people respond. So, draw me out of half-hearted devotion and into the kind of faith that bows without hesitation. Shape in me a heart that does not resist You, and teach me to open my hands where I have been closed and guarded.

Holy Spirit, come and do what I cannot do for myself. Create in me a joy that grows in the very places where surrender feels hardest. Create courage where I feel afraid. Create clarity where I feel confused. Lead me to see Christ as more worthy than my comfort and more beautiful than anything I try to protect.

Father, do not let me stand at a distance. Pull me near. Let the authority of Jesus rest on my life in a way that is unmistakable. Let my obedience be real and not pretend. Let my worship be wholehearted and not polite. And let my joy rise from the simple truth that the King has come and He is worthy of everything I am.

In the name of Jesus, the One who calls me to bow and gives me the grace to do it, Amen.