Read: Matthew 2:1-19
In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.” When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him…. Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, “Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage” (Matthew 2:1-3, 7-8 NRSV).
There is a fine line between wisdom and madness.
I became keenly aware of this on the trip west. I had set out with my friends and fellow star-gazers in search of an unusually bright star. At the time, it seemed like a perfectly sensible thing to do. By the time we’d been on the road a few months, however, I wasn’t so sure. Was this trip wisdom or was it madness?
Judging by what our servants were whispering behind their hands, I had a pretty good idea what they thought. Even my camel seemed to have an opinion, and it wasn’t flattering.
We’d been told (I can’t divulge how) that this star would lead us to “the child born to be king of the Jews.” So, when we got to Jerusalem, it made sense to us to ask around. After all, wouldn’t the Jews themselves know?
Oddly, however, they didn’t. King Herod consulted with some of his own wise guys and sent us off to the little town of Bethlehem. He seemed especially eager for us to find the child. At the time, I assumed it was because he, too, wanted to pay him homage. In retrospect, I realize he had more sinister motives.
It seems we were not so wise as we thought.
But off we went to Bethlehem, bearing gifts that turned out to be fabulously impractical. In our own defense, however, how could we have known where the star was leading us? Which of us—for all our wisdom—could have guessed that we would find the child in a humble house and not a palace? His parents looked a bit startled when we pulled out the gold, frankincense, and myrrh, but to their credit, they took it in stride. I got the sense this wasn’t the first time they’d had to deal with the unexpected.
Thank God we were warned not to report back to Herod. Even so, news of his murderous rampage reached us on the road home. It was madness to trust him. While I’m unspeakably relieved that the child-king escaped, I’ll carry the guilt of those slaughtered children to my grave. If only we’d been wiser wise men we would have been less naïve about his intentions.
I had a lot of time to think on the journey home, and I came to a few important conclusions. First, I realize now that true wealth is not found in a palace. Second, that true power is expressed in selflessness. Third, that true wisdom is born from humility.
So, it seems I returned to my country a much wiser man than I was when I left. The moment I got back I founded an orphanage. I find it much more fulfilling than star-gazing, and I have the strangest sense that it’s what the child-king would want me to do.
Ponder: What part of Melchior’s imagined memoir speaks most powerfully to you? How do his reflections shed light on current events?
Pray: As so many children pay the price of madness, grant us the wisdom to stop the slaughter.