On that dawn 2,000 years ago when Jesus came into this world, the Magi arrived in Jerusalem, the capital of Israel, seeking the One who had been born King of the Jews. Assuming that a king would naturally be born into royalty, they went to Herod’s palace.
King Herod and all Jerusalem were disturbed by the news of “the King of the Jews.” Power, by its very nature, is something one cannot share—even with one’s own children. Herod could not ignore the birth of a rival king. When he asked the chief priests and scribes where the Messiah was to be born, they replied:
“But you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,
are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;
for out of you will come a ruler
who will shepherd my people Israel.” (Matthew 2:6)
The phrase “by no means least” is ironic. Bethlehem was, in fact, small and insignificant. Yet it was not small, because the Messiah would be born there. The original source of this quotation, Micah 5:2, makes the meaning even clearer:
“But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah,
though you are small among the clans of Judah,
out of you will come for me
one who will be ruler over Israel,
whose origins are from of old, from ancient times.”
The Targum, the Aramaic translation of the Hebrew Scriptures, emphasizes this even more strongly:
“You, Bethlehem Ephrathah, you are too small even to be counted among the thousands of towns in Judah…”
Small—yet not small.
That is the paradox and the power of Christianity.
The Messiah came to a small town and to humble hearts.
Bethlehem did not become significant because of economic development or urban growth. It remains a small and modest town. Yet it is no longer insignificant, because the Messiah was born there. The message of Christianity is this: the Lord of the universe was born in a manger in a stable in Bethlehem.
One of the greatest problems facing the Korean church today is money. The church has become wealthy. Ideologically, it claims to hold to biblical values. Yet if we listen carefully to its messages and prayers, it often seems that what it truly clings to are worldly values.
If we were to summarize the highest value of the Korean church in one word, it would be success and wealth. A Messiah who blesses individuals, churches, and even nations with prosperity—this is the self-revelation of prosperity theology.
Churches that have accumulated wealth and prestige use every possible means to protect them. Some pastors have even falsified academic credentials or work experience to secure positions in “better” churches. The church’s longing for prosperity has secularized it. Sadly, the biblical warning—“The love of money is a root of all kinds of evil” (1 Timothy 6:10)—seems increasingly applicable to the Korean church.
Churches that have not yet accumulated wealth are not necessarily better. Their hopes and prayers are often still centered on growth, influence, wealth, and recognition.
The Korean church desperately needs reformation.
But such reformation will never take place unless the inner world of its leaders is first reformed.
Recently, I had an experience in Cambodia that renewed my soul. While visiting for ministry, I led seminars for church leaders from three different provinces. The General Secretary of the Cambodian Evangelical Fellowship worked tirelessly to prepare everything. He translated our materials into Khmer, coordinated schedules with leaders from the three provinces, and ensured that the gathering of regional leaders took place with the approval and blessing of central denominational leaders in Phnom Penh. He also invested his time and resources to pick us up from the airport and assist us throughout our stay.
When our week-long schedule ended and he drove us back to the airport, I handed him a card with a small financial gift inside as a token of gratitude.
When he opened the card and saw the money, his response was unlike anything I had ever witnessed in a mission field.
“I gladly receive the card,” he said, “but I cannot accept this money. Preparing your ministry and assisting your schedule is part of my ministry. I did this because of the calling the Lord has given me. I am already paid by the Cambodian Evangelical Fellowship to do this work. If I am to receive a blessing, I would rather receive the blessing that comes from the Lord than one that comes from people. Therefore, I am grateful for your heart, but as a servant of God, I cannot accept this.”
His pure, ungreedy soul became a refreshing tonic to my own soul, which I realized had been stained by subtle desires.
Unless the church is willing to become poor and small, there will be no room for the Lord to dwell within it.
Several years ago, a well-known Korean pastor was convicted—though given a suspended sentence—for financially supporting his son’s business in a way that harmed the church. On the first Sunday after the ruling, he bowed before the congregation and said, “If I had been poor, this unfortunate incident would not have happened. My becoming wealthy brought about this trouble.”
Bethlehem is not great because it accumulated wealth, but because the Lord came there. Had Bethlehem been a place of accumulated riches, perhaps the Lord would not have chosen it.
If a spiritual leader does not abandon greed and pursue a life of holy poverty, how can the kingdom of heaven be established within his inner world?
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 5:3)