After the usual diplomatic niceties, they got to the point: "Where is He who has been born king of the Jews? For we have seen His star in the east and have come to worship Him." You know the story. You've heard it told many times. The Jews had hoped for a Messiah -- a deliverer from their troubles -- for centuries. I couldn't believe He was actually making His appearance, but I knew that desperate longings combined with religious fanaticism could easily produce a Messiah. And these astrologers from the east. "King of the Jews"? What to make of that? I didn't know. But I had to get to the bottom of it. When my theologians told me tradition said the Messiah would be born in Bethlehem, we gave the astrologers directions, and told them to let us know what they found there.

When they slipped across the border without a debriefing I got worried. What if they did see some newborn royalty and had pledged their allegiance? I will admit the truth: I was threatened by this baby. If He was the Messiah, my days were numbered. My reign was based on force, but if one came who had the power to sway the people's affections, I would soon be forced from my throne. I didn't know for sure, mind you, that anything significant had happened in Bethlehem, but I couldn't take any chances. I had to destroy Him. I had to use my power when it would still work for me. I had to protect myself.

I know. It looks like a heinous crime. "The slaughter of innocents" the church has called it. Yes, I suppose. But it was no worse than kings in other countries did all the time. Politics wasn't for weak stomachs in those days. I only did what I had to do. "Harold the Grape" -- a pretty sour wine he would have made, to be sure. But I was threatened and fear makes you do strange things.

Doesn't it? I'm asking you. Do you ever feel threatened? You should. That's why I wanted to speak with you this morning. I wanted to warn you. You see, in the realm I come from we are sentenced to see the truth, though it's too late to love the truth. I see the truth about the baby who escaped my murderous plots. He was a king -- a king in a way that I could never be, King of the Universe, the eternal Lord.

And I was right about one thing: He is threatening. Make no mistake about it. You, too, are threatened by Him. You have your realms of power in which you try to exert your own lordship, but you and Jesus can't both be Lord. You make such a sentimental mush about Christmas. Choirs and gift-giving and Sunday School pageants (Harold the Grape reigns every year in the cute splendor of childhood innocence). But Christmas has a dangerous message: a new king has been born. And you must do one of two things with Him: worship Him as Lord or quit the charade and force Him out of your life.

I had my chance; I made my choice. Now I'm sentenced to the truth for all eternity. So also will you find yourself linked forever with the truth. Will it be a truth you have loved or a truth you have lost in self-centeredness? Will it be a truth that has saved you or a truth that has condemned you? I guess that's all I have to say. Thank you for your attention.