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Macomb, IL – They were outsiders, the Magi.
Learned fellows, these "wise men" were skilled in astronomy and astrology, healing and philosophy, fortune-telling and "magic."
Sometimes recalled as members of a Zoroastrian sect, they were named Balthasar, Gaspar and Melchior, according to tradition. From their homes in Babylon, then within the Persian Empire, they'd noticed a heavenly sign, perhaps a comet or nova or supernatural beacon.
The sign beckoned them to the west, and they prepared for the journey, some 1,200 miles toward the Mediterranean Sea through mountains, deserts and terrain made more hostile by bandits. The perilous trek took months before they arrived at Jerusalem, then Bethlehem.
Melchior is recalled as an older man with white hair and a long beard; Gaspar as clean-shaven with a ruddy complexion; Balthasar as black-skinned and heavily bearded.
Their caravan of camels was loaded with tents and food and supplies, plus precious goods weighing down the beasts of burden: gold, frankincense and myrrh.
A 10th century monk named Aelfric explained the riches' significance: The gold signified royalty; the frankincense divinity; the myrrh mortality.
Before arriving at their destination, they sought guidance from the region's King Herod, a despot who collaborated with the Roman authorities even as he exploited his half-Jewish heritage for political advantage. The Magi were polite but bade him farewell and would not help the tyrant follow or find their goal.
Rome's Emperor Augustus had ordered a census, the Magi would discover, requiring a humble carpenter from a small town, sheltering his betrothed, a pregnant teen, to travel from Nazareth to fulfill the government edict.
The woman gave birth, and the child and family were visited by rich and poor alike.
Shepherds were called, too, according to Scripture: Luke reports them saying, tending their flocks in the rural fields: "Let us go then, to Bethlehem to see this thing that has taken place."
The Magi, perhaps relieved as much as exhausted, exalted the baby.
The Book of Matthew recounts, "They prostrated themselves and did him homage. Then they opened their treasures."
St. Peter Chrysologus, an early church father, wrote, "The Magi gaze in deep wonder at what they see: heaven on Earth, Earth in heaven; man in God, God in man; one whom the whole universe cannot contain now enclosed in a tiny body.
"As they look," Peter continued, "they believe and do not question, as their symbolic gifts bear witness: incense for God, gold for a king, myrrh for one who is to die."
Maybe the Magi wept.
Maybe they laughed.
The faith, the future, seemed opened to all, the most unlikely and distant among the lands: poor and rich, those who worked with their hands and those who worked with their heads, one heart, sacred and shared.
Now, Bishop Thomas Gumbleton of Detroit recalls, "We forget that we're all members of the one human family. These Magi were wise leaders [but were] not following the ways of the Jewish law. Yet these people came. [The Nativity] was revealed to all the peoples of the planet, everyone."
Today, the "Twelve Days of Christmas" is a holiday song about various gifts and "true love," but the 12th day after Christmas is known as "Epiphany," from the Greek "to appear," celebrating on Jan. 6 when all was revealed to the Magi and through their visit to the infant.
An epitaph of sorts is at the great cathedral in Cologne, Germany, where the Magi's remains are housed, legend says: It reads, "Having undergone many trials and fatigues for the Gospel," they met one final time in Armenia where, "after the celebration of Mass, they died. St. Melchior on Jan. 1, age 116; St. Balthasar on Jan. 6th, age 112; and St. Gaspar on Jan. 11, age 109."
The wise men, outsiders, finally died - and lived - as insiders.
As will we all.
Bill Knight is a freelance writer who teaches at Western Illinois University