When we were little, Jess and I often performed skits or songs, or wrote stories to read aloud on Christmas Eve. This year since we were going back to Germany and enjoying a last Christmas there with the whole family, I thought it would be fun to write a Christmas 2008 short story. I ended up writing it Christmas Eve afternoon.

The Journey of the Magi

When Balthasar saw the star rise that morning, he knew it was a sign. His limbs trembled as he raced down the tower stairs,

“Melchior, Caspar,” he called, “A star – a star is rising in the east!” He shook Melchior awake and ran to the next room, “What can it mean? Come on man,” he yelled to Caspar, “I need you in the library. If this is what I think it is . . .”

Caspar could hear his slippered feet running down the stone hall to the library. Melchior sat up, his heart hammering from being startled out of sleep. Balthasar is crazy, he thought. Nothing could be so urgent that it required a rude awakening. Caspar poked his head in the door,

“Do you think he’s really seen something?” He asked Melchior, a note of excitement creeping into his usually skeptical voice. Caspar was their apprentice and even after a year of learning the art and science of the magi, he wasn’t sure he understood what they really did.

“Perhaps,” said Melchior, “That’s why he needs us. He’ll have a list a mile long of cross-references for us to check by the time we get in there. You run along and start working on those for him. I’m going up to take a look at this star.”

“They have been prophesying a Messiah for hundreds of years,” Balthasar said, assuming his lecturer’s voice as Caspar joined him, “There are Persian texts and even some Hebraic texts. All the signs point to a Golden Age to come. Our traditions teach us that there is a heavenly counterpart to complement man’s earthly self and make up the complete human personality, so when I saw the appearance of a new and brilliant star this morning, I knew this must be it: The birth of an important person, perhaps Savior. But we must double check the prophecies –where is he to be born?” and he sat Caspar down at long table to search through various scrolls. Before long, Melchior joined them.

“Did you see it?” Balthasar asked. “Yes,” said Melchior slowly, sitting down at the table and rifling through the scrolls until he found what he was looking for. Balthasar waited for some other comment, but Melchior ignored him and unwrapped the scroll.

“And?” Balthasar asked finally, “What do you think?” He gripped the table as he leaned towards Melchior.

“We shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” Melchior said and looked at Caspar, “It is important as a Magi to do the research and think deeply before interpreting signs and dreams. This is how we distill knowledge into wisdom.” He looked back down at the text he had pulled out. “Ahh,” he said after reading a few passages. Caspar caught Balthasar’s eye.

“The prophecies of the Hebrew Isaiah,” Melchior said, “I thought I remembered something.”

“What?! What did you remember?” Balthasar asked. He couldn’t remember having read the Hebrew prophet Isaiah – the Hebrew prophets were Melchior’s hobby. He collected texts from cultures as far as China, seeking further enlightenment about the world through the perspectives of other peoples. Melchior cleared his throat and read,

“The people walking in darkness have seen a great light, on those living in the land of the shadow of death a great light has dawned.”

“We don’t live in the land of the shadow of death,” muttered Caspar. Melchior read down a little further and cleared his throat again,

“For us to us a child is born, a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his government and peace there will be no end. He will reign on David’s throne . . .”

“Jerusalem!” Balthasar said, “So the savior has been born to Jerusalem. How long is that journey?”

“We’ll have to ask Daniel,” Melchior precisely rolled up the scroll and carefully inserted it back into its cover. The Jewish population near them was small but they had been there since the Great Babylonian rule of Nebuchadnezzar. “They should have records of their exile journey.”

“Why do we need to know how far Jerusalem is?” Caspar asked as both men sank into deep thought.

“Because we’ll have go of course!” Balthasar said jumping up, “We’ll have to go to confirm the birth of this Messiah.”

“But how do we know he’s the saviour?” Caspar said, “Isn’t that a long journey?”

“Yes,” said Melchior, “but how else will we discover the truth?” Caspar thought about it. Was the truth really that important to these two men, that they would take a long and perilous journey through the desert just to see if a baby had been born? And if they saw baby, how would they know he was the saviour? How could they prove it?

It turned out the truth was that important to them. The next week was consumed with preparations, hurried and haphazard on Balthasar’s end, methodical and organized on Melchior’s. Eventually they had packed all the supplies they thought they would need for 1200 miles to Jerusalem.

“This could take us over a year,” Melchior said to Caspar, “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.” Caspar thought about it. A whole year at home with his mother telling him to get a real profession?

“I want to come,” he said.

It was two weeks to the day the star had appeared when the three set off. The last week had been spent trying to procure the gifts that Balthasar and Melchior thought necessary to present to a king. They went north-west to cross the Syrian Desert at its narrowest point. It was slow and Caspar sometimes thought he would go crazy in the endless vistas of shifting sand. The days baked them and the nights froze them. Balthasar and Melchior discussed coordinates and rations. Caspar wondered what they thought all day, as they rode silently on their camels. Did they ever think this was a mistake? Did they really have this much faith that somehow this baby was the Messiah? He kept silent, not wanting them to know that he doubted their knowledge and wisdom.

They grew thinner and the sand etched lines into their faces that aged them faster than their years. At night, they lit no fires, fearing bandits. Balthasar and Melchior slept with the gold frankincense and myrrh between them. Finally, they reached Aleppo on the far side of the desert.

“I’ve never been this far from the Euphrates,” Melchior said to Balthasar. From there, they journeyed south to Damascus keeping the Sea of Galilee and the Jordan to their west till they crossed the ford near Jericho and so reached Jerusalem, some thirteen months after they had set out.

In Jerusalem, the crowds of people were a shock after the silence of the desert. The smells and crowded streets felt claustrophobic. Balthasar had to yell to ask directions to the palace. Caspar kept looking around for signs that would confirm the Messiah had been born but all the people seemed to be going about their business as usual. Of course, he thought, it has been a year since his birth. The celebrations were long over. These people already had the answers that Balthasar and Melchior were still looking for.

At the palace, they were granted an interview with Herod, the current king. Bowing low and presenting a small gift of spices, which they had hurriedly unpacked, Balthasar spoke first,
“We have come to inquire about the one who has been born king of the Jews. We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.” Caspar thought he saw a flicker of fear in Herod’s face but it disappeared so quickly, he decided it couldn’t haven’t been real. Still, he was terse in his answer and asked them to wait while he gathered the chief priest and the teachers of law. Melchior looked at Balthasar as they withdrew.

“So Herod does not know of this new king?” He asked, “He will not be too pleased, I think.” Maybe the fear had been real after all, Caspar thought as Melchior voiced another of his questions, “Where will we find this new King if he doesn’t belong to the house of the current one?”

“You should know,” Balthasar said almost grumpily, “You’re the one who loves the Hebrew prophets – wasn’t the Messiah to come from the line of David? As far as I can tell this Herod was appointed by the Romans.”

“Maybe these teachers of the law will tell us where we can find him,” Caspar said suddenly. Balthasar and Melchior looked at him surprised. Caspar looked down.

“You’re right Caspar, we’ll have to wait and see what they say,” Melchior said. The three didn’t even have to ask the question. When they were summoned back, a large group of men had been gathered and Herod immediately put it to them, “Where is the Christ to be born?” he asked. “In Bethlehem in Judea,” they replied almost in unison. Then the chief priest stepped forward,

“For this is what the prophet Micah has written, ‘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 be the shepherd of my people Israel.” He stopped and looked the three magi up and down.

Caspar suddenly felt very aware of their differences. He glanced sideways at Balthasar and Melchior. Did they realize it said the that the savior was for the people of Israel? What if this Messiah they were looking for, didn’t want to save them? And what did he really save people from? For the Jews, it was obvious: they wanted out from Roman rule, but foreign rulers didn’t oppress the land they had come from. Caspar thought their lives were pretty good. Why did he need a Jewish savior?

That night, they were summoned to Herod one more time. “When did you see this star rise?” he asked them without preamble when they appeared.

“13 months ago to the day,” Balthasar said. “Good,” said Herod, “Now go to Bethlehem for me and make a careful search for the child. As soon as you find him, report to me, so that I can go worship him too.” Melchior and Balthasar agreed. When they returned to the rooms they had been given, they started re-packing the few items they had unpacked.

“What are you doing?” asked Caspar, not wanting to know the answer.

“Let’s go!” said Balthasar, “we have to get to Bethlehem!” Caspar groaned. He had so been looking forward to sleeping in this fine room after so many nights in the desert. He had never slept in a place this beautiful before. They set out that night and left the city by a different gate than they had entered, slightly unsure of where Bethlehem was. In the city the stars had been dim but as soon as they left the city, the night sky came alive again, visible in the clean air away from the smoke of torches and lamps.

They hadn’t been traveling long, when suddenly Balthasar gave a shout, “Look!” he cried, “look! It’s back!” and he pointed up. Caspar saw it for the first time. A huge and brilliant star, unparalleled by the ones around it. He heard sighs of relief and looked over to see Melchior give Balthasar a huge smile. They rode in silence staring at it.

“It’s moving ahead of us,” Melchior finally realized. “It’s leading us to him,” Balthasar agreed.

In the early morning just before dawn, the star stopped over a house in Bethlehem and then faded away. They waited for the day to break and early in the morning, they saw a mother and child coming out of the house. Balthasar swung down from his camel. The mother stopped, suddenly noticing the three foreign men standing in the square.

“Joseph,” she called uncertainly. A man came out of the house. Balthasar approached him as Melchior and Caspar also dismounted.

“Sir,” said Balthasar, bowing, “We are three magi from Persia. We saw a star rise in the East just over a year ago, a sign, we thought, of the birth of a Messiah. That same star appeared to us again this night, leading us to this very house. Please tell us, is your child the one we are looking for?” Joseph and his wife looked at each other and then back at the wise men.

“You had better come in,” Joseph said, motioning to the doorway. Inside, Joseph told them a strange story about the angel that had visited his then-fiancée Mary and how she had become pregnant as a virgin. He explained that he had also been visited by an angel telling him to still marry her, that her son would save people from their sins. And then Balthasar and Melchior unpacked their gifts and presented the baby with the gold, frankincense and myrrh.

Caspar looked on, uncomfortably aware that he couldn’t bring himself to believe that this baby was anything special. He didn’t want it to save him from his sins. How did they even know that was possible? He wondered as he looked at Balthasar and Melchior. He couldn’t see any other signs of monarchy or deity. The most kingly things in the room were the items that they had just given him. And where was everyone else. Were they the only three paying attention to this child? The real king in Jerusalem hadn’t even known about him!

But there was something about the parent’s story that seemed strange enough to be true. Maybe God had revealed himself in this child, just as he had revealed himself through the signs and prophecies that Balthasar and Melchior had been studying their whole lives. Balthasar and Melchior certainly seemed convinced. He envied them their faith and the satisfaction on their faces that their dream had been fulfilled, that their journey had been worthwhile. Could this baby be their Messiah?

That night, Caspar woke up convinced of the baby’s identity. He had had a dream. His first one that he could remember. In it, an angel warned him that Herod would kill the baby if they went back to Jerusalem and images of lands Caspar had never seen before flew through his head. They were to go another way home, he thought – through the lands he had seen in the dream. Suddenly, he felt excited. He had interpreted his first dream. Maybe he would become a real magi after all.