Final Confrontation (9 page)

“This is astonishing,” Demas finally blurted out.

“I suggest, Kara, that some of your angels need more training and discipline,” said Lucifer. “Particularly when it comes to boasting of one’s alleged assistance. Not only are they indiscreet but they are undependable as well.”

Kara, embarrassed and outraged, agreed. “I will see to it that the offenders are disciplined,” he said menacingly. Demas skulked away and vanished.

“At any rate the magi are arriving,” said Pellecus. “They are still to report to Herod. He will then act.”

“True,” said Lucifer. “Herod has always been quite useful to us.” He looked at Rhedi. “Perhaps this angel will become Herod’s new shadow.”

Rhedi looked up excitedly.

“You are to return to the Hasmonean and continue enflaming Herod’s already tormented mind,” said Kara. “Fuel his passion for discovering this Child. And fuel his fears. He is ever frightened of pretenders.”

Rhedi almost shouted, “As you command!” and vanished.

As they came to an open area, Lucifer looked up into the night sky toward the star hanging over Bethlehem. A single shaft of light now extended from the star; a ray of brilliance penetrated Bethlehem.

“He points the way for them,” said Kara bitterly. “He points the way to the Son.”

“The light of the Lord upon His Son,” said Pellecus. “A dangerous thing to expose one’s Son when so many would take his life. Thrusting him into a darkened world—turning his back on him, so to speak.”

Lucifer turned to the others.

“Make no mistake, Pellecus,” he said. “This will never be. The day the Father turns His back on the Son is the day the Son will die.”

“The Lord be praised!”

The shaft of light seen by the magi looked like a silvery-white thread of silk streaming from the star overhead. They had followed this beam ever since leaving the gates of Jerusalem when it began to appear. All three of the magi were astonished at the light, and hurried to reach the Child who had been the object of their devotion for nearly two years. The light had settled on a small house, much like the others in Bethlehem. One of the magi asked a man whose house this was.

“That is the home of Joseph the carpenter,” the man answered.

“He did not see it,” mused Melchior. “He did not see the light.”

“Perhaps the light of God can only be seen by those who seek it out,” said Balthasar, as he dismounted. “Shall we enter?”

The three magi had replaced their dusty traveling clothes with the luxurious robes they had brought with them to wear when they were presented to the Child. They also carried with them the gifts they had kept with them all these months. This was a sacred moment for them as they approached Joseph’s front door. The light from the star immediately vanished as they stepped in the doorway.

Caspar knocked on the door. They thought they heard the sound of a small child crying within. He was about to knock once more when the door opened. From inside the dimly lit house Joseph appeared in the doorway. He held a small oil lamp in his hand.

“Yes?” he asked, surprised to see such splendid-looking men standing before him. “Are you from the palace?” he asked nervously.

“No, no,” said Melchior, stepping up from the dark street. “I am Melchior. This is Caspar and Balthasar.”

“We have been seeking you a long time,” said Caspar. “Or rather, your Son.”

Upon those words Joseph felt immediate relief. Considering the circumstances of Jesus’ birth and the promises made to him and Mary by the angel Gabriel, it didn’t surprise him that strangers should come seeking the Child. He had resigned himself that they would probably experience such strange happenings as long as Jesus was in their home.

“Who is at the door, Joseph?” a voice inquired.

“Visitors,” said Joseph, opening the door for them to enter. “From far off. They are here to see our Son.”

The three men entered the room. There they saw Mary holding a healthy, little dark-haired Boy of about a year or so. Tears filled the eyes of Caspar as he saw the Child for the first time. He fell to his knees, as did the other two. Joseph looked outside to make sure there were no others, and then shut the door.

After a moment or two Joseph spoke to break the spell.

“You came from…?

“It doesn’t matter,” said Melchior. “What matters is where this Child came from. We will not stay long. But we were required of your God to come and pay homage and to bring these gifts.”

Upon these words, they presented to Joseph gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh—all costly and luxurious gifts.

“Please accept these humble offerings,” Balthasar said. “And allow us only a moment’s worship.”

The men began praying in their native tongue, calling upon the God of Joseph and Mary and thanking Him for allowing them to have finally set eyes upon the King of the Jews. Shortly after, they stood to leave.

“I would offer you a place to stay, but as you see there is no room here,” said Joseph. “Perhaps in the back…”

“Thank you, no,” said Caspar. “We have already paid for our lodging here in Bethlehem. Then we shall return to Jerusalem.”

“Jerusalem?” both Mary and Joseph repeated. “To Herod?”

“Why yes,” replied Caspar. “He seemed quite anxious that we report to him.”

“It seems a streak of devotion seized his heart and he, too, desires to come and worship the Child,” added Melchior. “This Child invites worship, it seems. Even in the most unlikely quarters.”

After the men left, Joseph looked at Mary with apprehension. Herod! Dealing with kingly visitors was one thing—but dealing with the unpredictable king of Judea was another. Mary knew in her heart the Lord would not permit Herod or any other person to touch their Son, and was content to leave it all in the Lord’s hands.

Nobody dared speak a word. The messenger from the frontier had said it all. He remained on the ground where he had fallen after Herod struck him upon hearing the report that the magi had departed Judean territory.

“Get out!” he ordered. “And take this fool to the Antonia to be held until I decide what is to be done with him!”

A couple of Herod’s personal guards picked up the trembling messenger and escorted him out of the room. The other members of Herod’s council hastily exited the room as well. Herod was quite alone. Or was he?

Rhedi stood by ready to foment in Herod something that would earn him favor with Kara, and ultimately Lucifer. The angel had assumed the horrid appearance of a human with a rat-like face, grinning as he approached Herod. The old king was bent over a table looking at a map of Judea, unaware of the angel’s presence or mission. He peered over the map for a moment or two longer and violently swept it off the table.

“I should have all the frontier guards killed,” he raged aloud.

“And yet the Child lives…”
Rhedi spoke softly.

“The Child lives,” Herod thought to himself. “Somewhere in Bethlehem.”

“If He is allowed to grow into adulthood, He will take the throne from your children. The name of Herod will forever be forgotten…”

“I owe it to my father to do something,” Herod mumbled. He began crying tears of anger and shame. “Father I am sorry! All the work you did, all the groveling before these Roman dogs.” He became furious. “These petty Jews! Always looking for their Messiah. How do we know this is not some trick of Satan? How do I know these magi were not demons disguised as humans to dupe me?”

“And yet the Child lives such a short distance away…a brief journey…”

Herod began thinking about how close Bethlehem was—how close the Child was to Jerusalem. Such a short distance—such a horrible threat. Surely his spy would have returned by now had he something to report.

“Bethlehem is so small…nobody would know…nobody would care…”

Rhedi stepped back to enjoy his work. This time his words had hit deep. Herod contemplated the bloody possibility. How many children could this be? Merely a handful of them, at most. It could be done quickly and quietly—even this very night…Rhedi approached Herod for a final thrust.

“Just the children born since the star’s appearance…”

Enough!” he shouted to himself.

One of his aides came running in.

“You sent for me, sire?” he asked timidly.

“No, fool!” A pause. “Wait! Yes. Bring Zereth to me. Now!”

The servant left quickly and within a few minutes returned with Zereth, the commander of Herod’s personal guard. Zereth was Herod’s most trusted servant, and was adept at performing unpleasant, secretive tasks. He was particularly skilled in the art of assassination. Herod looked at his trusted killer.

“I have something for you,” he whispered. “Utmost secrecy. Only your most trustworthy soldiers who know how to do as they are told and remain quiet afterwards. And of course a great reward will be involved.”

“I am yours to command, my king,” said Zereth, patting his sword.

“Excellent,” said Herod. He walked to the window facing south. Already the star that had been over the land for these past many months was beginning to fade. He turned back to Zereth.

“It seems I have a problem in Bethlehem.”

“Joseph!”

“Joseph!”

Joseph wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or not as he found himself confronted by another angel. This one seemed different from Gabriel—somehow commanding even greater authority. Joseph listened as the angel began speaking to him.

“I am the Angel of the Lord,” he said. “You must listen. Take your family and go down to Egypt. Herod’s soldiers are coming to kill the Child. Go now!”

“Egypt! But how long are we to stay in Egypt?” he asked, looking around the house and mentally packing.