The landscape deepened into tones of gray as the wise men on their camels, their entourage in their midst, lumbered along the western road. Knowing that their journey was almost over, the men were anxious to reach their goal—the home of the One born King of the Jews.
A crowd of curious onlookers that had been following at a distance since leaving the safety of the walls of Jerusalem now quickened their pace to catch up to the foreigners, as for the first time they, too, saw the dazzling star in the darkening night sky. It reminded them of those eerie times when the moon seemed to hang like a giant white ball as it rose above the eastern horizon, illuminating everything in its path. The difference here was that while the star was incredibly brilliant, its light only shone in one direction, downward.
“What does it mean?” the crowd began to cry. One of the onlookers stirred up the others like a swarm of bees, his voice thin and shrill. “It’s an omen of our destruction!” The women among them began wailing, but stopped abruptly when they saw the looks on the wise men’s faces as they stopped in their tracks and turned to face them. One of them, stern yet kind, replied, “If it is an omen, it is an omen of your new King. Prepare yourselves to meet him.”
As the sojourners entered the streets of Bethlehem, they saw the star’s light narrow until it enveloped a single dwelling. The crowd of peasant followers let out a gasp and stood still. The air around them felt hushed and alive with anticipation; no one spoke a word or moved a finger as the wise men dismounted their camels and strode toward the door of the house.
This is Part 3 of a series that began on 1/8/2015. It is a description of my meditations on the events of Epiphany and does not necessarily represent actual events.