So the bad dude king, Herod, called his chief priests and scribes together for a little pow-wow, a sneaky set-a-trap-for-the-baby kind of meeting.
“Where is He who has been born King of the Jews?” the Magi had asked.
King Herod got his intellectuals together.
Those wise-guys knew immediately where the Messiah was slated to be born. Micah had prophesied it some 680-750 years before.
“In Bethlehem of Judea, for thus it is written by the prophet,” they told Herod (Micah 5:2; NIV).
But here is the clinker.
The Messiah, was only about six miles down the road.
Why didn’t the chief priests and scribes high tail it themselves to see the One for whom Israel had waited for centuries. Even lowly shepherds had hurried to see Him.
The priests and scribes knew all about Him but had no desire to know Him face to face. Little did they understand of Majesty for they served the wrong one.
“The Lord reigns, he is robed in majesty…” (Ps. 93: 1-2; NIV). “Your throne was established long ago; you are from all eternity.”
Uncontainable Majesty, dressed in human flesh and wrapped in swaddling clothes, lay just a few hours away.
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