Gifts from the East

Content warning: Mentions of death

The bustle of the city of Babylon was slowing as people retreated to their homes. Candles glowed and flickered in windows as breezes swirled the scents of the hanging gardens through the streets and up to the rooftops. 

Balthasar gazed up, watching the sky darken. The first stars were visible. Caspar, youngest of the trio, had not yet come to the roof, and Melchior was already sitting against the wall encircling the rooftop, dozing. He’s getting old, Balthasar thought wryly, glancing at the venerable gray-bearded man. 

His back resting against the sun-baked stones, Melchior caught a flash of Balthasar’s teeth as the Ethiopian’s lips parted in a chuckle.  

The smile disappeared. Balthasar turned and shouted towards the stairs, “Caspar! Come up here! Quickly!” 

Melchior roused himself at Balthasar’s excitement, trying and failing to stand quickly. Balthasar took Melchior’s hand and heaved him up. 

Sandaled feet slapped up the steps, and Caspar appeared, embroidered robes swirling with his haste. “What is it?” 

“Look!”

All three men tipped their heads back and gazed at the bright new star hanging in the Western sky. 

“I shall see him,” Melchior intoned slowly, solemnly, “but not now: I shall behold him, but not near. A star shall rise out of Jacob, and a scepter shall spring up from Israel: and shall strike the chiefs of Moab, and shall waste all the children of Seth.” 

“What are you saying?” Caspar asked. 

“I am reciting. It is from a man named Baalam,” Melchior explained, “who went to a faraway land, and died there in a war. He had been hired to curse a numerous and wandering people, all children of a man named Jacob-Israel. Baalam went, but blessed them instead. With those blessings came prophecies. That is one of them.” 

“A king is born,” Balthasar said. “A king who was foretold, and about whom great things are foretold. He is so powerful that a new star must announce him.”

“We knew of it, but I never thought I would see it.” Tears shone in Melchior’s eyes. 

“Then what are we waiting for?” Caspar asked. “Is there any reason not to leave now, immediately?”

“I see none,” Balthasar said with a smile. 

“Then we go,” Melchior decided. 

Melchior, Balthasar, and Caspar rode the slow swaying camels—ships of the desert—as they plodded across the sand. On each of their saddles, concealed beneath hangings, swung one particular item, which each man wanted to keep close at hand, and guard well. 

A bag of tried gold. 

A sealed packet of frankincense. 

A flask of myrrh. 

The journey was a long ordeal. The days were hot, and the nights cold. The camels were unpleasant creatures, not wanting to walk on. The camel drivers were not much more pleasant, muttering and cursing and striking their animals. Whenever they came to a town’s caravanserai, exorbitant prices were charged for supplies and lodging in filthy accommodations. 

Travel was only a means to an end. That being acknowledged, all three decided to travel as long as they could without stopping, until the drivers or their animals refused to go farther without rest. Night would fall, and still the camels plodded on, and the men grumbled but kept on for the wages they were paid. 

Finally, they neared the principal city of the nation of Jacob-Israel: Jerusalem.

On the night before they would reach Jerusalem, they lost the star. 

“Balthasar!” Melchior called. “I cannot find the star. Come and tell me if you see it.”

Balthasar moved beyond the reach of the firelight and searched the sky, but gave up when his neck began to ache. “Caspar, come here and find the star for us.”

After anxious minutes, Caspar shook his head. “I do not see it. I think it is gone.” 

“We must be close.” Melchior clenched both hands into fists. “We must. We know the ancient royal city of this people is ahead. All we must do is inquire there.”

Stone walls rose well above their heads as the camels swayed through the gates. They saw men in long, black robes and tall head coverings which swooped up above their foreheads, like the hoods of cobras, pacing through the streets. Many people made way for them, or stopped to greet them. 

Seeing that the dark-robed men were generally respected, Balthasar called out as one such man walked past the camels. “Greetings! We would like to know where the new king has been born.”

“The new king?” The man’s bearded face showed extreme confusion. 

“Yes, the new king of the people of Jacob-Israel.”

“We call ourselves Jews,” the man explained. “Unfortunately, the rule of our kings was ended long ago. There is no new king, and there never will be.” 

“Does no one rule this city?” 

“Herod is the ruler here, under the Roman Empire. He lives in the old palace. That way.” The man pointed deeper into the city. 

King Herod appeared just as confused by the question of the travelers as the man in the street. “A new king?”

“Yes,” Melchior replied. “We have seen his star in the East, and we have come to adore him. He was foretold.”

“You may go,” Herod told them. “The audience is over. I will search for any knowledge of this new king.”

More of the black-robed men were about the palace after that, though they seemed ill-pleased. Servants followed them, carrying many scrolls. 

Caspar, restless, roamed the city, and witnessed a swift change in the mood of all the people. The bustle of the crowds did not abate, but now all seemed anxious, transacting business swiftly and disappearing back indoors, seemingly unwilling to be caught in the streets. He could not fathom what was causing the unrest. 

In the throne room, black-robed Pharisees and their scribes, scholars of the law, assembled before a scowling Herod to read the answer to his question from the sacred scrolls.

"Where is the messiah to be born?" Herod demanded.

“In Bethlehem of Judah: For so it is written by the prophet: ‘And thou Bethlehem, the land of Judah, art not the least among the princes of Judah: for out of thee shall come forth the ruler, who shall rule my people Israel.’”

When Herod secretly called the men of the East for a second audience, he had a burning question of his own. “When, exactly, did you see the star appear? How long ago?” He leaned forward in his seat, eager for their answer.

After ascertaining the time of the star's appearance from them, Herod revealed the prophesied location of the new king, saying, “Head South, to Bethlehem." His cunning deceit carefully veiled with a friendly and open demeanor, he added, "Inquire diligently after the child, and when you have found him, bring me word that I also may go and adore him.”

As soon as the city was behind them, Melchior, Balthasar, and Caspar cried out in excitement. The star burned brightly above them, directly ahead. They quickly arranged with the caravan captain to meet them in Bethlehem, and then urged their own camels faster, beyond a walk, into a wild, galumphing gallop. 

On entering the house, they saw the Child with His mother. The three kings fell prostrate and did Him homage.

Rays of light shone from the Boy-Child’s entire being. His mother was nearly lost in the glow as she held Him in her lap. Then the shafts of glory retracted, and the wise men rose. Producing their gifts, the three travelers offered them to the Child and His mother, after which the woman’s husband took the offerings into his keeping. All too soon, the appointed visit was over.

The next morning, upon arising, Melchior said, “I dreamed a dream.” 

Balthasar and Caspar both looked up sharply. 

“I was made to understand not to return to Herod’s court, to go home by another route.”

“I dreamed a dream as well, and I was made to understand the same thing,” Balthasar declared. 

Caspar nodded. “And I, the same.”

It was not until some weeks later that the intent of the mysterious dream was revealed to them.

A traveler caught them up on the road as they were making camp. They invited him to share a meal, during which he shared news from his hometown of Bethlehem. 

“There was a massacre!” he declared. 

“What happened?” Melchior demanded. 

“King Herod, ruler of Jerusalem, sent his soldiers to Bethlehem, and they put to the sword all the boys two years old and under."

Balthasar felt sick. “All the boys died?”

“They say so," their guest affirmed. "It is as if Herod were the Pharaoh of old, from whom Moses was saved.” 

Caspar looked at his companions and spoke quietly. “The Child could not die unless it was appointed. You must know this! We could not but fall before Him and do Him homage.”

Melchior and Balthasar sat back in astonishment, then began to nod. 

"Wise we may be,” Melchior said, “but who can fathom these prodigies? One day, perhaps, we shall understand.”

Author's note:

The prophecy Melchior recites is from the Duoay-Rheims version of the Bible, Book of Numbers XXIV:17

The arrival of the wise men in Jerusalem through their finding of the Child is taken from the Gospel of Matthew II:1–12