Tuesday Read: The Gifts of the Magi and the Cost of Worship

Gold, frankincense, and myrrh - the magi's gifts weren't randomly selected luxury items. Each carried profound symbolic weight. Gold signified royalty, acknowledging Jesus as king. Frankincense was used in temple worship, recognizing his deity. Myrrh was a burial spice, foreshadowing his death. These foreign astrologers somehow grasped what Jesus's own people would struggle to accept for three years: this child was simultaneously king, God, and suffering servant.

But focus on the cost, not just the symbolism. These weren't token gifts or ceremonial gestures. The magi traveled hundreds of miles, likely taking months for the journey. They risked bandits, weather, political danger, and the very real possibility of failure. When they finally arrived, they didn't give leftovers or convenient offerings - they gave treasures. Matthew records they "opened their treasures" (Matthew 2:11), suggesting they'd brought valuable cargo specifically for this purpose.

Their worship was neither cheap nor convenient. It required planning, sacrifice, and commitment before they even knew if they'd find what they were looking for. They didn't wait to see if Jesus was worth it before bringing valuable gifts - they brought valuable gifts as an expression of their seeking, not just their finding.

Contrast this with the religious leaders in Jerusalem. When Herod asked where the Messiah would be born, the chief priests and teachers of the law quoted Micah 5:2 correctly: Bethlehem. They knew the Scripture, possessed the knowledge, could cite the prophecy. But they didn't walk the six miles to investigate. Knowledge without action, accuracy without engagement, correct theology without costly worship. They were six miles from the Messiah and couldn't be bothered to check.

Jesus later taught about this kind of worship: "Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also" (Matthew 6:21). The magi's treasure was in Bethlehem; their hearts followed. Jerusalem's treasure was in its temple, its traditions, its religious status quo; their hearts stayed put. Worship isn't measured by what you know but by what you're willing to give, risk, and reorder your life around.

This confronts our sanitized, convenient Christianity. We want worship that fits our schedules, costs us nothing, and requires minimal disruption to our plans. We sing songs about surrender while refusing to actually surrender anything. We declare Jesus as Lord while maintaining lordship over our calendars, our bank accounts, our ambitions. We know the right answers like the priests in Jerusalem, but we won't walk six miles to live them.

What would it mean for you to worship like the magi this year? Not with exotic spices from distant lands, but with the treasures you actually have - time, resources, plans, comfort, control. What would costly worship look like? What journey would it require? What would you need to open and pour out, not just to show up and sing about?