Matthew 2:1-2

Now after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, behold, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, saying, “Where is He who has been born King of the Jews? For we have seen His star in the East and have come to worship Him.”

Cyrus hurries across the city. He checked three times before running out of his house. A star. A new star in the sky, and a new King has come.

He bangs on the door of Darien, his mentor and friend–who would likely jerk this door open in anger after being woken up in such a way. Cyrus considers it, and takes a big step away from the door and waits.

He counts to fifty, and then bangs on the door frame again, this time not stopping the knocking until the door swings open. Darien’s hair is askew and his beard uncombed. Once he opens the door, he levels an unsmiling gaze at his young friend.

“What is it, Cyrus?” Darien looks past him, along the street, searching for a threat, an emergency.

Cyrus grabs his friend by the sleeve and pulls him out of the house and across the dirt street. Coming to a stop, he stabs a finger into the air, “The star has appeared.” A broad smile crosses Cyrus’ face. “The King is here.”

Darien doesn’t have to consult his papers. He knows Cyrus has checked and double-checked before arriving here. He knows because he taught him everything himself.

“Go. Wake Baraz. Tell him we leave at dawn.” Darien turns on his bare feet and sprints back into his house, no doubt tossing together a pack, leaving Cyrus in the street where he looks again at the star shining in the sky. A new star. Then he is running again.

“A what?” Baraz was much more annoyed that Cyrus woke him, but he listened carefully. He let Cyrus drag him to the nearest window and point out the oddity. A new star.

“Where will we go?”


“That’s a long trip, Cyrus.” He scrubs a hand over his face, pulls at his long dark hair. “What will we do there?”

“Meet the King. He has come at last!”

“Meet– What? He’s a baby!” He shouts after Cyrus as the young man turns to leave, but he halts.

“He’s a King.”

“Perhaps we wait a few years, until He rules.”

“Baraz, brother, He is King today.” Cyrus walks toward the door, “We leave at dawn.”