I have been considering the hypothesis that the star referred to in Matthew’s Gospel was a comet recorded by Han-dynasty astronomers in 5 BC. In a previous post, I examined an objection to this view that rested on two claims:
- First, that in the late first century BC comets were universally interpreted as negative omens.
- Second, that such a reading is inconsistent with the way the star functions in Matthew’s birth narrative.
In that earlier discussion I challenged the first claim. I argued that ancient interpretations of comets were more nuanced than is often assumed. Comets were widely understood as portents of social and political upheaval, particularly the replacement of kings or dynasties. While this was indeed a negative omen for the ruler or dynasty about to be displaced, it could simultaneously be—and often was—understood as an endorsement of the incoming ruler.
In what follows, I turn to the second claim: is this pattern of interpretation inconsistent with Matthew’s birth narrative? I suggest that it is not.
- The Star is a sign of Dynastic Change in Matthew
In Matthew’s Gospel, the star is explicitly associated with a change of kings and dynasties. The second chapter opens as follows:
Now after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, behold, magi from the east arrived in Jerusalem, saying, “Where is he who has been born King of the Jews? For we saw his star in the east and have come to pay him homage.”
At the time of the star’s appearance, the Hasmonaean dynasty—ruling since the Maccabean period—had already been displaced by Herod the Great. Herod’s designated heir in early 5 BC was Herod Antipater, then about forty years old, though this was changed later that year to Herod Antipas, who was only fourteen. Against this backdrop, the Magi’s claim that a star signified the birth of a new “King of the Jews” clearly implies dynastic upheaval: not merely the replacement of Herod himself, but the displacement of his entire line of succession.
This is entirely consistent with the comet of 5 BC functioning as the star in Matthew’s narrative. A generation earlier, during the reign of Mithradates VI (120–63 BC), a comet was interpreted as heralding the birth of a king who would overturn Roman domination. Roughly sixty five years later, during Nero’s reign, Tacitus reports that a comet was widely taken as “an apparition boding change to monarchies,” prompting speculation about Nero’s successor and leading him to eliminate suspected rivals violently. Earlier still, Julius Caesar’s sidus—whatever its precise astronomical nature—was read both as marking the end of one regime and as legitimating Augustus as its heir. There is nothing unusual, then, about astrologers interpreting a comet as signalling the end of one dynasty and the rise of another.
Why Judea?
It might be objected that the Magi infer not merely the birth of a king, but the birth of a king connected specifically with Israel. Yet this inference is compatible with ancient astrological practice. The comet recorded by Chinese astronomers in 5 BC was said to appear in Qiān Niú, corresponding broadly to the Capricorn–Aquila region of the sky. Ancient astrology included a doctrine of astrological geography, according to which zodiacal regions were associated with particular lands, so that celestial phenomena occurring in a given constellation were taken to signify events affecting the corresponding territory.
The most familiar version of this doctrine appears in Claudius Ptolemy’s Tetrabiblos (second century CE), which associates Judea with Aries. However, this reflects a later, highly systematised phase of Hellenistic astrology. As Stephan Heilen[i] and others have shown, earlier traditions—preserved in authors such as Teukros of Babylon (first century CE), Vettius Valens (second century CE, drawing on earlier sources), and Paul of Alexandria (fourth century CE, preserving older material)—tend to associate Capricorn not with Judea narrowly, but with Syria more broadly.
This is historically significant because, in the late first century BC, Judea was commonly understood as part of the wider Syrian region, a usage reflected in contemporary geographical writers and later Roman provincial administration. Moreover, Syria proper no longer possessed a native royal dynasty in 5 BC. Other regions within the Syrian sphere were ruled by tetrarchs; however, none was experiencing dynastic instability of comparable scale or symbolic importance to that of Judea. On this basis, there is nothing surprising about astrologers interpreting a comet appearing in the Capricorn–Aquila region as signifying royal or dynastic upheaval in Syrian lands, with Judea as the most plausible concrete referent. [ii]
Messiah, Divinity, and the Role of Jewish Interpretation
Another objection is that the Magi interpret the star as signifying the birth of the Messiah or a divine figure. Yet Matthew’s text does not support this claim. The Magi announce only that a king has been born and that they know the general region from which he comes. They do not identify the child as the Messiah, nor do they know where in Judea he is to be found. This is why they ask, “Where is he who has been born King of the Jews?”
It is Herod, together with the chief priests and scribes, who introduces the explicitly messianic interpretation. Upon hearing the Magi’s report, Herod gathers the religious authorities and inquires “where the Messiah was to be born.” The identification of the child as the Messiah thus emerges when the Magi’s message is mediated through Jewish expectations and scriptural interpretation.
This pattern accords well with what we know of comet interpretation in the ancient world. When Halley’s comet appeared over Jerusalem approximately seventy- years later, both Josephus and the Zealots interpreted it as signalling the fulfilment of messianic prophecy—though they sharply disagreed about who the Messiah was. As I will argue in a later post, the period around 5 BC also coincides with heightened messianic expectation and intense paranoia on Herod’s part concerning prophetic threats to his rule.
“Worship” and Royal Homage
It is might be claimed that the Magi’s desire to “worship” the child implies divinity. However, the Greek verb προσκυνέω (proskyneō) denotes bodily homage and is commonly used of honour shown to human kings and superiors. In the Septuagint, David proskyneō Saul (1 Sam 24:8), Nathan proskyneō King David (1 Kgs 1:23), and the woman of Tekoa proskyneō David (2 Sam 14:4). In none of these cases is divinity implied. Matthew himself uses the term for a slave paying homage to a king in a parable (Matt 18:26), and Revelation 3:9 explicitly uses it in a non-divine sense.
The Magi, then, say only that a new king has been born in Judea and that they wish to render him royal homage.
- The Star as a Threat to the Status Quo
In Matthew’s narrative, the star is unmistakably perceived as a threat by the reigning king. Matthew writes: “When King Herod heard this, he was disturbed, and all Jerusalem with him.” The verb ταράσσω denotes agitation, alarm, or terror. Herod responds by ordering the killing of all male children in Bethlehem aged two years and under, based on the timeframe he had learned from the Magi.
It is therefore puzzling to object that comets were interpreted negatively, since in Matthew’s narrative the star is explicitly treated as a negative omen. Herod’s reaction mirrors that of Nero, who, according to Tacitus, was “perturbed” (terreo) by a comet interpreted as signalling dynastic change and responded by eliminating the suspected rival Rubellius Plautus.
In both cases, a tyrant hears of a “star” appearing in the sky, interprets it as a sign that a new king will replace him, and responds with violence. It seems ad hoc to regard such a scenario as implausible in the case of Herod while readily accepting it in the case of Nero.
A Dual Meaning: Threat and Endorsement
Finally, comets could simultaneously be understood as condemning the existing ruler and endorsing the incoming one. While Herod interprets the star as a threat, the Magi take it as a sign that they should render homage to the new king. Matthew, writing for a Christian audience, invokes the star to support the claim that Jesus is the Messiah.
As I explained in my last post, this dual interpretation is well attested. The comet of 60 CE was taken to signify both Nero’s impending downfall and Plautus’s divine selection as his successor, prompting public support for Plautus. Mithradates VI interpreted comets at his birth and coronation as evidence that he was destined to overthrow Roman power. Augustus appealed to Caesar’s sidus to legitimise his own rule as the divinely favoured outcome of dynastic upheaval. Chaeremon of Alexandria similarly understood comets as signifying both the “removal of dynasties” and the “commencement of new ones.”
As for comets and messianic expectation, both Josephus and the Zealots interpreted Halley’s comet in 66 CE as signalling the arrival of the Messiah, even while disagreeing about who fulfilled that role. Moreover, the oracle of Balaam—“a star shall come out of Jacob, and a sceptre shall rise out of Israel” (Num 24:17)—was widely employed in Second Temple literature to predict the coming of a ruler.
Taken together, these considerations suggest that interpreting Matthew’s star as a comet of 5 BC is not only plausible but fits comfortably within well-attested ancient patterns of astronomical interpretation.
[i] Heilen S., Barthel P. and van Kooten G. (eds.), ‘The Star of Bethlehem and Greco-Roman Astrology, Especially Astrological Geography’, The Star of Bethlehem and the Magi, Brill, Leiden, The Netherlands, 2015, pp. 345–346 https://doi.org/10.1163/9789004308473_015
[ii] See Mark Matney, ‘The star that stopped: The Star of Bethlehem & the comet of 5 BCE’ Journal of the British Astronomical Association, Volume 135, Issue 6, 401 (2025); DOI: https://doi.org/10.64150/193njt

A common objection to belief in the God of the Bible is that a good, kind, and loving deity would never command the wholesale slaughter of nations. In the tradition of his popular Is God a Moral Monster?, Paul Copan teams up with Matthew Flannagan to tackle some of the most confusing and uncomfortable passages of Scripture. Together they help the Christian and nonbeliever alike understand the biblical, theological, philosophical, and ethical implications of Old Testament warfare passages.





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