For countless generations, the chil­dren of Israel looked forward to the promised Messiah — the King who would inherit David's throne and rule His people forever. Moses and all the prophets wrote in anticipa­tion of this Ruler. When the voice of Old Testament prophecy ceased in the 5th century B.C., and foreign empires overran the Jewish lands, the longing of Abraham's stock intensified. All of Israel's hope cen­tered in the Coming Messiah and the promise of His victorious Kingdom.

It seems rather ironic that so long anticipated, so exten­sively prophesied, so eager­ly sought a Coming, when it did at last occur, took place in such obscurity. A travel-weary couple, moving anonymous­ly through the bustling alleys of Bethlehem, found no place of wel­come. At last taking up lodging in an animal stall, it was there, alone, amidst the beasts of burden, that the long-awaited King was born — virtually unnoticed by the rest of the world.

Except for the shepherds; sum­moned by angelic revelation, Luke tells us that a few Jewish shep­herds attended to the new born. It must have astounded those fright­ened herdsmen: of all the Jews longingly awaiting the Messiah, they had been chosen by God to receive the first word of His arrival. They hastened with joy to the place described in the heavenly announcement.

And then there were the magi; but what place did these priests from a foreign land and a pagan cult have in the birth of David's Heir? One can understand the joy of the Jewish shepherds. But what inter­est did these soothsayers from the east have in the new King of the Jews? Yet they came; the magi came to find Him "who has been born King of the Jews ... to wor­ship Him" (Mt. 2:2).

From Gabriel's announcement in Nazareth to the crowded streets of Bethlehem, from the enthusiasm of the shepherds outside the town to the presentation at the Temple and Simeon's song of praise, the story of Jesus' birth is surrounded by Jewish hope. But Matthew, in his account of the nativity, introduces this puzzling band of worshipers from a foreign culture and a pagan priesthood; Matthew's Gospel brings a presence into the Messianic birth narrative that seems shockingly out of place. What interest did the magi have in the birth of a Jewish King?

As far back as historians can trace, the magi have been associat­ed with the priesthood of Chaldean Zoroastrianism. The magian caste formed in the area that is now northern Iran, sometime prior to 1000 B.C. Theirs was a priestly order involving both legitimate sci­ence and pagan superstition, espe­cially in connection with astro­nomical observation.

For example, it was the Chaldean astrologers who observed that heavy rainfall occurred in Babylonia whenever the sun appeared in a certain constellation of stars. The constellation was therefore named "The Water Bearer" (Aquarius in the Latin zodiac) and the magi were able to predict the coming rains year after year by the sun's movement into that region of the heavens. Such success in astronomy led them to make further predictions.

The red planet (Mars) they asso­ciated with war, and by its move­ments they made predictions con­cerning the rise and fall of empires. This mixture of astronomy and astrology gave the Chaldean magi an aura of great authority. They became the calendar-keepers of the kingdom, advising rulers on mer­cantile and empire-building plans based on their star-gazing. The magi also achieved similar suc­cesses in the primitive medical arts and other disciplines of divine-like power. For many centuries, the magian priests perpetuated and fur­ther developed their art by main­taining written records and careful­ly schooling each new generation of the priesthood.

By the 6th century B.C., when King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon invaded ancient Israel, the magi held a post in what might be con­sidered the Babylonian cabinet or privy council. The prophet Jeremiah identified the Chief of the Magi (Rab-Mag in Jer. 39:3, 13) as among the inner circle of Nebuchadnezzar's officers.

The Book of Daniel describes with further detail the role which the magi held in the courts of the Chaldean kings; and it is the record of the magian caste in Daniel which must capture our particular attention. Daniel himself, one of the Jewish youth exiled to Babylon under King Nebuchadnezzar, was trained "in the literature and lan­guage of the Chaldeans" (Dan. 1:4) and served among the magi.

One of the practices of ancient empire-builders was to absorb the gods of conquered lands into the orb of the imperial religion. The god(s) of the reigning dynasty must, of course, remain at the head of the religious system: after all the most powerful gods were those of the winning armies. However, to avoid offending other national gods, and to quickly absorb con­quered cultures into the empire, it was expedient to incorporate the gods of subjected nations into the constellation of the empire's wor­ship system.

It is likely that the adoption of Jewish worshipers of YHWH into the schools of the Chaldeans was part of just such a scheme. But this curious intersection between the Jewish faith and the magian caste was to take some unexpected turns — turns which may have left their mark on the magian cult as late as the time of Christ's nativity.

During the time of Daniel, the Jews were exiled to the Babylonian empire, and the best of the Jewish youth were trained in the schools of the Chaldeans. But YHWH would not be added like one more idol to a list of Chaldean lower-deities. Although Daniel and his companions were among the magian pupils — the "priests" of a "conquered" — Deity Nebuchadnezzar found Daniel and his friends to be "ten times better than all the magicians (LXX: magos) and conjurers who were in all his realm" (Dan. 1:20). God gave Daniel wisdom beyond his magian instructors; but he was still a foreign exile. He was a low-order magus (singular of magi), until the events recorded in Daniel chapter 2 surprisingly catapulted him into high office.

At that time, Nebuchadnezzar was terrified by a vision he received in his sleep. Fearful of the dream's meaning, the king called together the court magi. He charged them to give the interpre­tation of his dream, and testing the validity of their discernment, he also required them to conjure the dream itself.

There are two facts of particular interest in this account. First, Daniel was not among the magi assembled to hear the king's com­mand. Nevertheless, when the court magi failed to produce the dream and its meaning, Daniel was among those condemned to die in the king's wrath. Daniel was num­bered with the magi, but as a Jewish exile, he was not in a posi­tion of esteem. He was, as previ­ously stated, a low-order magus.

A second detail of interest is revealed in the response of the court magi to Nebuchadnezzar. "No great king or ruler," the Chaldeans replied when required to tell the king his own dream, "has ever asked anything like this of any magician, conjurer or Chaldean" (Dan. 2:9-10). The Chaldean literature not only con­tained the tricks of the trade, but evidently recorded the history of their practice. The magian schools were conscious of (and likely con­tinued to monitor) the predictions made by their forebears. This is of particular interest when we consid­er the possible influence of Daniel's visions among later gener­ations of magi.

When Nebuchadnezzar's court magi failed to reveal his dream and its meaning, the king, in his fury, ordered the destruction of the entire magian order. Daniel first learned of the king's demand when the executioners arrived at his door. The young worshiper of YHWH asked the captain of the guard for time to seek the interpre­tation from his God.

That night, God gave Daniel the king's dream and its interpretation, and Daniel was taken before Nebuchadnezzar. Awed by what he heard (note in Dan. 2:11 that the court magi declared only an incar­nate god could reveal to the king his dream), the king fell on his face before Daniel. Nebuchadnezzar immediately promoted Daniel to be "chief prefect over all the wise men of Babylon" (Dan. 2:48; see also 4:9; 5:11).

Daniel, the low-order student of the magi, was suddenly appointed chief of all the magi (and the God of Daniel thereby became the dom­inant Deity of the Babylonian reli­gious system). Naturally, the court magi were dismayed. Throughout the Book of Daniel, we read of Daniel's jealous adversaries attempting to unseat him, but God repeatedly confirms Daniel, and shows Himself to be the True God over all gods and nations. God Almighty established Daniel's authority, and the new Chief Magi's visions and interpretations were heeded by four successive kings: Nebuchadnezzar, Belteshaz­zar, Darius, and Cyrus.

It is reasonable to anticipate that, over a period of between thirty and forty years, the prophecies given to Daniel by the God of Israel were being recorded and studied in the schools of the Chaldean magi. But what was the nature of Daniel's visions?

Each of Daniel's visions, in one form or another, relate to the dominion of God over the king­doms of men. In particular, Daniel foretold the rise and fall of four world empires. Three of these he specifically named: Media (Babylon), Persia, and Greece. (See Dan. 8:20-21.) The fourth kingdom Daniel described, but he was not given understanding of its identity.

After these four kingdoms, Daniel prophesied the coming of one more Kingdom — a Kingdom not formed by human hands (Dan. 2:34-35). This divine Kingdom would crush the previous domin­ions and spread Its own rule throughout the whole earth: "And in the days of those kings the God of heaven will set up a kingdom which will never be destroyed, and that kingdom will not be left for another people; it will crush and put an end to all these kingdoms, but it will itself endure forever" (Dan. 2:44).

Daniel died sometime after 534 B.C. He is traditionally believed to have retired from public office to the province of Shushan near the Tigris (where the last of his visions was received). He had lived to see the fall of the first kingdom (Babylon of Nebuchadnezzar and Belteshazzar), and the rise of the second kingdom (Persia of Darius and Cyrus). Two more kingdoms would rise and fall, and the magian caste itself would experience increase and oppression — but would nevertheless — continue ­during the centuries that followed.

Sometime after Daniel's death, Cyrus removed the magi from imperial office. During the reign of Cyrus' son, Cambyses, the magi staged a coup d'état. They attempt­ed to put a new emperor on the throne who would restore the priesthood to the imperial court, but this effort was unsuccessful. Cambyses destroyed a great num­ber of the magi and declared a national holiday: magofonia ("Slaughter of the Magi").

But the magian order was not utterly cut off. They lost their political power and were scattered in parties, but the magian sects continued to exert significant influ­ence upon the religion of Persia. The magi also continued to watch for the rise and fall of empires. One might speculate whether they were still watching for the last two empires foretold by Daniel. According to Cicero (in De Divinationi, 1.47), on a night in 356 B.C., the magi recorded an unusual astronomical phenomenon. The magi interpreted the event as indication that a new ruler had been born, a ruler they labeled as the coming destroyer of Asia. Was it Daniel's prophecy which led them to anticipate the fall of the Persian Empire? One can only wonder. In any case, Alexander of Macedon was indeed born that year; and by 333 B.C., Alexander's armies conquered the Persian Empire. The age of the third king­dom (the Greek Empire) had begun, and Greece spread her shadow across the ancient world.

A century after Greece conquered Persia, the magian-stronghold of Parthia (in eastern Persia) success­fully reasserted sovereignty (c. 235 B.C.). Of the two councils which led the newly independent Parthian Kingdom, one was controlled by the magi. The Chaldean astrologers were, once more, a dominant power in the east, and would con­tinue in this position until a centu­ry after Christ.

Meanwhile, Greece began to dis­integrate after Alexander died; and the armies of Rome eventually captured the lands of the west away from Greece. A fourth great empire emerged. Whether the magi of the east continued to study the literature of Daniel's time cannot be established; whether the Parthian magi recognized in Rome the last empire before the Divine Ruler would come is not documented.

But Matthew, in his account of the nativity, interjects news of magi who, seeing a stellar omen, came to Israel.

What they saw in the sky cannot be ascertained with certainty. The magi identified what they saw as a star (Gr: aster); and a curious star it is that guides the magi from the east to Israel (an east-to-west movement) and then, after disap­pearing for a time, re-emerges to guide them from Jerusalem to Bethlehem (a north-to-south move­ment). The earth's rotation makes all normal stars appear to move from east to west.

The unusual movements of the star, and the clarity with which it finally led the magi to the specific place of the Child's lodging, indi­cates that this was no ordinary star. One might wonder whether it was an angelic being that guided their search; the Biblical connection between angels and stars is not unusual (eg: Job 38:7). Furthermore, the activity of angels as God's messengers throughout the nativity story (appearing to Mary, Joseph, Zecharias, the shep­herds, etc.) leads one to expect an angel to guide the magi, as well. To Chaldean star-watchers, the generic term for heavenly body (star) might have been their natural explanation, reported to Matthew and recorded in his Gospel.

In any case, Matthew does not explore an explanation of the star. As interested as we, in the scientif­ic age, might be in explaining this stellar phenomenon, Matthew's attention is devoted to something which he deemed more significant. Matthew gives his attention to another feature of the story: the stop of the magi in Jerusalem.

When the traveling wise men lost sight of the star, they stopped in Jerusalem to seek direction. Why would they have expected the Jewish leaders to know anything about the birth of the new King? If they were merely following the guidance of their astrological arts, they should not have expected the Jews to know anything of the astronomical sign. Not only were the Jews adverse to astrology, rab­binical teaching condemned as worthy of death any Jew who stud­ied the arts of the magi. However, if the magi were apprised of Jewish prophecy, then they would have expected the experts in the Hebrew Scriptures — the scribes and priests at Jerusalem — to understand the events then being fulfilled. The magi's question on their arrival in Jerusalem reveals their expectation that the local authorities would have understood what was taking place. "Where is He who is born King of the Jews?" they asked.

The scribes and priests, however, were not conscious of the Messiah's coming; but they did have further prophecy to share with the magi. Citing the prophecy of Micah, they reported: "So it has been written by the prophet, 'And you, Bethlehem, land of Judah, are by no means least among the lead­ers of Judah; for out of you shall come forth a Ruler, who will shep­herd My people Israel'" (Mt. 2:5-­6; quoting Mic. 5:2). It is the light of prophecy, not the light of the star, which Matthew gives promi­nence in the magi's search for the Savior. Matthew only cites the prophecy of Micah, but his record of the magi's question makes it evi­dent that they were previously acquainted with the prophecies of the Messiah.

We have speculated that Daniel's prophecies guided the magi in their initial search. The evidence is strong that such is the case. But Matthew does not record the magian history. He only tells us enough about these foreign visitors to show us that this Messiah is not just a national King for Israel. Even magi from the distant east — ­men about as far outside the life of Israel as one could imagine — are subject to His reign. And they, too, are guided by the light of Biblical prophecy. As far back as Daniel's time, God had given the promise of a Savior to the Babylonian king and to the nations of the pagan world. Finding the Promised One, the evangelist reports the magi's joy: "And they came into the house, and saw the Child with Mary His mother; and they fell down and worshiped Him" (Mt. 2:11).

To early readers of Matthew's Gospel, the introduction of foreign soothsayers at Jesus' nativity must have seemed startling. But by this detail in the opening scene of his Gospel, Matthew sets the frame­work for his message about the Savior: the King of whom he writes is the King of all the earth. It is this theme which Matthew again brings to the forefront at the close of his Gospel. In his report of the ascension, Matthew again selected a detail not recorded by the other Gospel-writers. Matthew recorded Jesus' parting claim to universal Kingship (and its impli­cation for His disciples): "All authority has been given to Me in heaven and on earth. Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations" (Mt. 28:18-19).

From the first scene to the last, from the nativity to the ascension, Matthew points to Christ as the eternal King, before whose throne all nations owe their allegiance. Jesus was not born to inherit the throne of a Mediterranean state; He was born to establish the heavenly Kingdom among men, the rule of which must increase and extend through all the earth. Even pagan astrologers (representatives of a culture as far outside the Abrahamic Covenant as any) were guided by the light of prophecy to worship at the feet of mankind's eternal King.

The presence of the magi at the infancy of Christ is an amazing portrait of God's grace. He draws those who were far off to Himself; and it is Scripture, carried by the people of God into all the world, that guides the lost in their search for the Savior.