Y
ou seek him who is born king of the Jews?” It was a statement couched as a question. Its irony was not lost on Herod. He hoped it was not be lost on these opulently dressed intruders. He had asked with a smile, patronizingly, condescendingly, and if the feeling in his heart were known, contemptuously.
“We have followed his star from the east. We have been traveling for many months.”
“How many? Exactly when did the star appear to you?” Herod’s desire for accuracy seemed odd to the astrologers. The star had been there for all to see. Surely, news of the phenomenon in the east had traveled this far. Of what was this Jewish king so curious?
“We are not certain of exactness, king Herod,” A lie. These men could tell you to the portion of the hour when the meteor was first seen. “After our first observation, there was some deliberation in the decision to follow it. That took time. Those chosen to journey took time. Preparation took time. We had no concept of how long we might be away, so we prepared for the worst. All of this took time. Now we have been traveling these eight months in diminishing hope that we might reach our destination.”
Herod was ignorant of the potential for precision from these magicians. Herod was ignorant of much. He did not trust them. Men such as Herod the Great were very frightened men. Nervous men, agitated by any possible — real or imagined — threat to their security and power. “It is said in our scriptures that a messiah will be born — we know not when — in Bethlehem of Judea, a short distance from where we now stand. Perhaps you will investigate. And perhaps you will be kind to come back. Inform me of this great event should it actually have happened.” A Messiah from such a place as Bethlehem? How utterly insipid! He paused; hoping yet not hoping the astrologers would surmise his incredulity. “Of course, I will wish to pay him homage as well.”
