Matthew 2:15

Berean Standard Bible

where he stayed until the death of Herod. This fulfilled what the Lord had spoken through the prophet: “Out of Egypt I called My Son.”

King James Bible

And was there until the death of Herod: that it might be fulfilled which was spoken of the Lord by the prophet, saying, Out of Egypt have I called my son.

----------------------------------

Matthew 2:15 reads: *“And was there until the death of Herod: that it might be fulfilled which was spoken of the Lord by the prophet, saying, Out of Egypt have I called my son.”*

This verse functions as both a historical note and a theological anchor within Matthew’s infancy narrative. It provides a conclusion to the flight into Egypt initiated in the previous verse and introduces a prophetic fulfillment that invites the reader into a deeper reflection on the identity of Jesus as the true Israel, the Son of God, and the fulfillment of redemptive history. It is a verse that reaches both backward into the history of Israel and forward into the unfolding story of Christ. What appears to be a simple narrative detail—Jesus remaining in Egypt until Herod's death—is, in Matthew’s hands, a profound revelation of Jesus’ participation in the covenantal story of God’s people.

First, we are told that the family remained in Egypt *“until the death of Herod.”* This phrase signals a divinely appointed pause in the movement of the Holy Family. It was not yet time to return. God, who had warned Joseph to flee, now waits to call them back until the tyrant is dead. This period of exile, though temporary, reflects a recurring biblical pattern: God's people often find themselves waiting in unfamiliar or uncomfortable places until His timing releases them. Egypt, once a place of slavery, now becomes a place of sanctuary. But it is not home. They wait there, not by choice, but by obedience. This quiet endurance on the part of Joseph and Mary is a model of faithfulness in waiting. God’s purposes are sure, but His timing is precise. They remain in Egypt not one day longer than necessary, nor one day shorter. The death of Herod—the one who had sought to destroy the child—becomes the providential turning point that allows the next stage of God’s plan to unfold.

The deeper meaning of this verse, however, is unveiled in Matthew’s reflection on prophecy: *“that it might be fulfilled which was spoken of the Lord by the prophet, saying, Out of Egypt have I called my son.”* Here, Matthew quotes Hosea 11:1, a verse originally spoken by the prophet concerning the nation of Israel. In Hosea’s context, the line is a retrospective, recalling God’s deliverance of Israel from bondage in Egypt: “When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son.” This is a historical and poetic affirmation of God’s covenant love and redemptive action toward His people. Hosea was not speaking messianically in the narrow, predictive sense, but Matthew—writing under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit—sees in this verse a typological fulfillment.

This method of reading Scripture, particularly prominent in Matthew’s Gospel, reveals that the life of Jesus is not merely parallel to Israel’s history, but is the fulfillment and recapitulation of it. Jesus is not only the Messiah who comes to redeem His people; He is also the true Israel, the embodiment of what Israel was called to be but failed to fully become. Israel, God’s “son” by adoption and covenant, was delivered from Egypt but soon fell into idolatry and rebellion. Jesus, the eternal Son, also comes out of Egypt, but He will remain faithful, obedient, and sinless. Where Israel stumbled in the wilderness, Jesus will overcome. Where Israel faltered under the Law, Jesus will fulfill it. His very journey mirrors Israel’s story—not accidentally, but intentionally, as a sign that He is the new and greater Israel.

This typological fulfillment is not a strained reinterpretation of Hosea, but a Spirit-inspired unveiling of the deep coherence of Scripture. The history of Israel is not isolated from the person of Christ but culminates in Him. Matthew invites his readers—particularly his Jewish audience—to see Jesus not as a break from their story, but as its true fulfillment. The God who once called Israel out of Egypt has now, in a more profound sense, called His only begotten Son out of Egypt. The exile and return of the Christ child are not merely geographical details; they are theological statements. They declare that the new exodus has begun.

The phrase *“Out of Egypt have I called my son”* is especially rich when considered in light of the biblical theme of sonship. In the Old Testament, Israel is called God's "firstborn son" (Exodus 4:22). This designation speaks to both privilege and responsibility. As God's son, Israel was to reflect His character, live in covenant faithfulness, and serve as a light to the nations. Yet Israel's disobedience repeatedly undermined this calling. Jesus, as the Son of God, takes up this mantle. His life fulfills the role that Israel failed to embody. He is the true Son, not only by divine nature, but also in covenantal obedience. The calling "out of Egypt" thus becomes more than a geographical movement—it is a redemptive declaration. The Son is coming forth to accomplish what no other "son" could.

Matthew’s citation also reinforces the central claim that Jesus’ life, even from infancy, is governed by divine purpose and rooted in Scripture. Nothing in His story is accidental. His path is marked by providence, His steps are ordered by prophecy, and His journey is soaked in symbolism. From His birth to His exile to His return, all is orchestrated according to the divine script written in the Law, the Prophets, and the Psalms. For Matthew, this is not only evidence of Jesus’ messianic identity but a testimony to the faithfulness of God, who brings His word to pass, often in ways more profound and layered than we can foresee.

Moreover, this verse offers comfort and perspective to all who find themselves in “Egypt” seasons—those times of displacement, waiting, and obscurity. Egypt, in the story of Jesus, is not a mistake, nor a detour, but a divinely appointed part of the journey. It is the place where God shelters His promises until the time of unveiling. The fact that the Son of God Himself endured exile sanctifies every form of waiting we endure for the sake of the Kingdom. God’s purposes often unfold in hiddenness before they emerge in glory.

In this way, Matthew 2:15 becomes a profound theological anchor. It is a verse of historical movement, prophetic fulfillment, and redemptive depth. It speaks of a faithful God who preserves His Son, fulfills His Word, and weaves every detail of history into the tapestry of salvation. It reminds us that Jesus does not stand outside the story of Israel—He enters it, embodies it, and completes it. And in doing so, He invites all who believe in Him to become part of this new exodus, this new people, this new covenant family, called not from one nation alone, but from every tribe, tongue, and language, out of every Egypt, into the glorious freedom of the children of God.

-----------------------------

To all the elect of God, called and beloved in Christ Jesus, scattered across nations yet gathered in one Spirit, grace and peace be multiplied to you from God our Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ, the Son who was called out of Egypt, in whom all the promises of God find their “Yes” and “Amen.”

I write to you with the aim of stirring your hearts to deeper trust, fuller understanding, and more fervent obedience to our Lord, as we behold together the mystery and glory found in the sacred words of the Gospel according to Matthew, where it is written, *“And was there until the death of Herod: that it might be fulfilled which was spoken of the Lord by the prophet, saying, Out of Egypt have I called my son.”*

Here we see the Word of God unfolding not as a cold record of history, but as the living drama of redemption—where every place, every movement, and every moment is charged with divine significance. Egypt, once the land of bondage, now becomes a sanctuary. The Holy Family—Joseph, Mary, and the infant Christ—dwells in a land that had once enslaved God's people, and yet in this exile, the purposes of the Lord are not paused, but preserved. In the wisdom of our God, the geography of former sorrow becomes the backdrop of sovereign protection.

Beloved, do you not see in this the tender faithfulness of our God? That the One who led Israel out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm now sends His own Son into Egypt—not by necessity, but by design. Not because God lost control, but because the path of salvation required the Son to enter fully into the story of His people. Just as Israel passed through slavery into sonship, so Christ, the true and greater Son, retraces those steps—not in rebellion, but in perfect obedience.

The words *“Out of Egypt have I called my son”* are drawn from the prophet Hosea, where the Lord speaks of His love for Israel in their infancy. That prophetic word was a reflection on the past, yet now Matthew shows us its deeper fulfillment in Christ. For Israel, though called "my son," stumbled in the wilderness, broke the covenant, and turned from the Lord. But Jesus, the Son eternal and beloved, fulfills the calling in righteousness. He walks the path of Israel not merely to identify with them, but to redeem and restore what was lost. In Him, the story of Israel is not erased, but completed. In Him, we see what sonship truly looks like—humble, faithful, obedient unto death, even death on a cross.

O brothers and sisters, consider what this means for us, we who were once far off, exiled in our own Egypts—enslaved to sin, wandering without hope, subject to the tyrant Herod of our own hearts. Yet out of Egypt, God has called us too. For the One who was hidden in Egypt is now enthroned in glory, and by His blood He has called forth a people for His name. You who have believed in the Son are no longer strangers, no longer in bondage, but sons and daughters, heirs of the promise, children of the Most High.

Let this truth anchor your soul when you feel exiled, displaced, or forgotten. Egypt is not the end of the story. Exile does not mean abandonment. The Son of God Himself walked the road of obscurity and exile—not because God had failed, but because God's plan was being fulfilled. So too with you: if you are in a season of waiting, of hiding, of wondering whether God still sees, take heart. He is not silent. He is not slow. You may be in Egypt, but the Word of the Lord stands sure—He will call you out at the appointed time.

Notice also, dear saints, the divine restraint. It was not when Herod plotted that the Lord moved them, nor when the threat was at its height that vengeance fell. The Christ child remained in Egypt *until the death of Herod.* God let the proud tyrant exhaust his schemes, and then, in the stillness, called His Son forth. What comfort there is in knowing that our God is not rushed, nor reactive, but always perfectly timed in His providence. When enemies rage, when darkness seems to have the upper hand, know this: Herod will not last. Every enemy of Christ, every threat to His people, every voice that rises against truth and righteousness will fall—and the Son will rise, and with Him, all who are hidden in Him.

But let us not miss the call to practical faithfulness. Joseph, that quiet guardian of the Savior, stayed in Egypt until the word of the Lord came again. He did not act presumptuously. He did not return prematurely. He waited, not on circumstances, but on divine instruction. How many of us, when faced with trial, seek to escape rather than endure? How often do we act in impatience rather than obedience? Learn from Joseph: stay where the Lord has placed you until He speaks. His word will come. His guidance will not fail.

And you, who bear the name of Christ, you too have a calling out of Egypt—not just from physical places of discomfort, but from spiritual prisons of sin, from systems of the world, from the old man that once ruled over you. Live as those who have been called out. Do not return to what He has rescued you from. Do not make peace with the Herods of this world, nor dwell in the shadows of your past. Walk as children of the light, for the Son has gone before you. He walked the road of exile, the road of suffering, the road of the cross—so that you might walk in the path of life.

In this one verse, we see both the humility of Christ and the majesty of God’s plan. We see that even in the earliest moments of our Savior’s life, the hand of God was fulfilling every word of the prophets, unfolding every page of the covenant, revealing that Jesus is the true Israel, the obedient Son, the Savior of the world. And in Him, we too are sons—called out, brought near, made holy.

Therefore, beloved, let us live as those who have been called out of Egypt. Let us leave behind the idols of our past, the fears of our exile, the lies of Herod. Let us follow the Son in obedience, in patience, in trust. And when the night is long, let us remember: He knows the way through Egypt. He has walked it before us. He walks it with us now. And He will call us forth in His time, for the Word of the Lord cannot fail.

To Him be glory, dominion, and praise, now and forevermore. Amen.

-------------------------------

O Sovereign Lord, God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the One who speaks and it is done, who commands and it stands fast, we lift our voices and hearts to You with reverence and awe, for You are the God who calls His Son out of Egypt and calls all Your children out of darkness into Your marvelous light. You are the Author of salvation, the Keeper of promises, the Architect of redemptive history. We bless You for Your perfect wisdom, hidden from the proud but revealed to the humble, and made manifest in the face of Jesus Christ, Your beloved Son.

We worship You, Father, for the mystery and majesty of Your plan. Before the foundations of the world, You ordained that the Christ would not only be born of a virgin, but would also descend into the lowliness of exile, hidden in Egypt, sheltered from the rage of kings. You, who could have overturned Herod with a word, instead preserved Your Son in silence, working through dreams and journeys, through obscurity and waiting. Who is like You, O Lord? Who but You would ordain that the Savior of the world should first taste the sorrow of exile before unveiling the triumph of redemption?

O Christ, our King and Redeemer, we adore You, the true Israel, the faithful Son. As Israel was called out of Egypt, so were You, that You might fulfill all righteousness—not in symbols only, but in substance. Where Israel stumbled, You stood. Where the first son wandered, You obeyed. In You we see the fullness of covenant obedience, the radiance of divine sonship, and the perfection of human faithfulness. You became the exiled child, not because You were weak, but because You came to walk the path we could not walk. You descended into Egypt to carry our burden, to bear our exile, to enter our wilderness, and to lead us out again into the land of promise.

Holy Spirit, Comforter and Revealer of truth, write upon our hearts the wonder of this word. Let us not read it as history alone, but as living fire—kindling in us a deeper understanding of who Christ is and who we are in Him. Open our eyes to see that Egypt is not only a place of refuge, but a symbol of bondage from which we must be called. You have delivered us through the greater Moses, the One greater than the law, the Lamb who was hidden in infancy and slain in manhood. Teach us to live as those who have been called out—separated from the world, sanctified in truth, and secured by grace.

Lord, in the quiet of Egypt, You protected Your purpose. In the stillness of hiding, You were not absent, but fully present. So we pray now for those who find themselves in exile—not in geography, but in spirit. For the ones in waiting, for the ones in hiddenness, for the ones walking roads not chosen but appointed—remind them that You are the God of Egypt too. That even in the land of shadows, You are preserving, shaping, refining. Let them know that no season is wasted, no trial forgotten, no tear unseen. You called Your Son forth in Your time, and You will call us too.

We confess, Lord, that we are impatient children. We long for deliverance before the hour comes. We seek the glory without the journey, the crown without the cross, the resurrection without the burial. But You have shown us another way—the way of trust, the way of hiddenness, the way of waiting. Help us, like Joseph, to remain where You place us until Your voice calls us forward. Help us, like Christ, to embrace the exile, knowing it is not abandonment but preparation.

We praise You for the Scripture, O God, and for the faithfulness by which You fulfill it. What You spoke through the prophets You have brought to pass in Christ. The line from Hosea was no idle poetry, but a declaration of divine intention. You call Your Son, and in Him, You call us. You brought Him out, not just geographically, but covenantally—and through His obedience, You bring many sons and daughters to glory.

So now, O Lord, let us walk as those who have been called out. Let Egypt no longer hold sway over our affections. Let not the chains of our past cling to our present. Let us forsake every idol, every compromise, every Herod that tempts us to return to what You have already delivered us from. Let us live as the free, not as fugitives but as sons and daughters, seated with Christ in the heavenly places, even as we walk still through this world.

And when we are tempted to doubt the path, remind us of Your Son, who entered Egypt by night and emerged in the light of fulfilled prophecy. Remind us that the way of the cross is often hidden, but always holy. Remind us that the exile ends in calling, that the silence ends in song, that the night ends in the dawn.

To You, O Father of the Son, to You, O Son of the Father, and to You, O Spirit of truth and fire, be all glory, honor, dominion, and praise, now and forevermore. Amen.