Samuel could tell by the look on their faces that the elders weren’t making a social call to inquire about his health … and he was right. One of the elders cleared his throat. “Samuel … you are getting old and, well, no offense but we’re more than a little concerned about the future of our people. When you appointed your two sons to replace you, it seemed like a good idea at the time but, well, you know … Joel and Abijah don’t follow in your ways, so we want you to appoint a king to take your place.”
Their request broke Samuel’s heart and he was sure that it would break God’s heart too because, you see, they had always had a king … a great king … a powerful, strong king … the kind of king described in Psalm 46.
[Read Psalm 46.]
Think about what Psalm 46 is saying ... that God was not only Israel’s king but that He has always been with them. They saw His power over the nations when He beat down Pharaoh. They saw His power over nature when He parted the Rea Sea and made water gush out of rocks. He traveled in their midst as they wandered through the wilderness on their way to a land that flowed with milk and honey and they again saw His mighty right arm when the walls of Jericho came tumbling down and their enemies were defeated one after another until the land was theirs.
Though the mountains tremble and shake … though the waters roar and foam … though the whole earth go into convulsions and change … they had nothing to fear because the Lord of hosts … their divine warrior God … the Supreme Commander of the Heavenly hosts … was their shield and refuge. Though empires rise and fall … though nations come against them … the Lord of Hosts … the Supreme Commander of all the nations … was their shield and refuge. Every nation that had tried to conquer them or destroy them? Gone. “Come, behold the works of the LORD,” the psalmist writes (Psalm 46:8). Despite floods and droughts, and pestilence … despite earthquakes and tornadoes … despite wars … despite everything that nature and man had thrown at them … the people, the nation of Israel, had survived because God was what? Their “refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble” (Psalm 46:1).
God was a very “present” help when He led out of Egypt the Israelites in a cloud of fire and smoke. God was a very “present” help when He descended on Mt. Sinai and entered into a covenant with the Israelites as they began their wilderness journey. God was a very “present” help in the Tabernacle and then in the Temple in the very heart of the City of God. “There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy habitation of ‘El Elyon’ … Most High God. God is in the midst of the city [Jerusalem]; it shall not be moved” (Psalm 46:4-5). God Himself declares that they have nothing to fear. “Be still, and know that I am God! I am exalted among the nations; I am exalted in the earth” (Psalm 45:10). They have nothing in Heaven or on earth to fear because the Lord of Hosts … the Supreme Commander of Heaven and Earth … is their refuge and their strength.
For many, many generations the Israelites had but only one King … the King of Psalm 46. Four times we are told in the Book of Judges that “Israel had no king” (Judges 17:6, 18:1; 19:1; 21:25) … but they did: Jehovah Sabaoth (Sab-bi-aTH) … the Lord of Hosts … El Shaddai … the Lord God Almighty … Jehovah Jireh … the Lord Who Provides … Jehovah Shammah … the Lord Who is There. And yet, Samuel can’t believe his ears. They want an earthly king … a king like other nations (1st Samuel 8:5).
And so, Samuel prays for a king. “Listen to the voice of the people in all that they say to you,” says God, “for they have not rejected you, but they have rejected me from being king over them … only you shall solemnly warn them, and show them the ways of the king who shall reign over them” (1st Samuel 8:7, 9) … and Samuel solemnly paints a detailed picture of what they can expect:
“These will be the ways of the king who will reign over you: he will take your sons and appoint them to his chariots and to be his horsemen, and to run before his chariots; and he will appoint for himself commanders of thousands and commanders of fifties, and some to plow his ground and to reap his harvest, and to make his implements of war and the equipment of his chariots. He will take your daughters to be perfumers and cooks and bakers. He will take the best of your fields and vineyards and olive orchards and give them to his courtiers. He will take one-tenth of your grain and of your vineyards and give it to his officers and his courtiers. He will take your male and female slaves, and the best of your cattle and donkeys, and put them to his work. He will take one-tenth of your flocks, and you shall be his slaves. And in that day you will cry out because of your king, whom you have chosen for yourselves” (1st Samuel 8:10-18).
All of this came true in King Herod … only worse because he wasn’t even Jewish and he wasn’t chosen by the people of Israel but was appointed and closely watched by the Romans. But … as Herod was about to find out from a rather unexpected group of strangers, there was another king in the region.
Needless to say, the arrival of a caravan of respected scientists, astrologers, philosophers, doctors, and legal authorities from Persia caused quite a stir in Jerusalem. When word of their arrival reached the palace, Herod was deeply troubled. “Perhaps they’re just passing through,” he hopes as he begins preparing to receive these distinguished but unexpected guests.
After a lavish meal, the usual exchange of platitudes, some hospitable entertainment, Herod and the Magi retire to more private accommodations so that they can get down to the business at hand: “Where is the one who has been born the king of the Jews? We saw his star in the east and have come to worship him” (Matthew 2: 2).
Their question is a stab into Herod’s already paranoid heart. He had already killed his wife, Marianne, two of his sons, his brother-in-law, his mother-in-law, and Marianne’s aged grandfather to protect his throne. And now these Magi are telling him that the reason that they were here was to honor some Jewish king that he had never heard of and knows nothing about! These men … these scholars … these Persian king-makers … have traveled a thousand miles led by a star right to his city. Not good! Not good at all! In fact, dreadful … disastrous!
The Magi are more than perplexed by Herod’s response. Not only was he surprised by the news but he seemed to be having a stroke at hearing what they thought was good news. In fact, the whole exchange seemed odd to the Magi. They had seen the signs in the Heaven portending the arrival of this king. A supernatural light had led them to this exact spot … and yet Herod and his religious scholars didn’t seem to know anything about it. Truth be told, these Jewish religious scholars didn’t need any signs. Their God had told them Himself that a great king would one day be born to rule over them and exactly where he would be born. In fact, when Herod called together his “wise” men and religious scholars to demand what they knew about this prophecy, they didn’t have to look it up or debate it or pick through their collective memory. To a man they explained to Herod what the Prophet Micah had predicted … what the Jewish wisemen and religious scholars had known for over 700 years. They even quoted him the prophesy: “But you, O Bethlehem of Ephrathah, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for out of you will come a ruler who will be the shepherd of my people Israel” (Micah 5:2).
Hey, it’s one thing to literally get poisoned or stabbed in the back by family but to get overthrown by some complete unknown somebody somewhere out there was an even greater threat. Where do you start? Where do you look? Jerusalem? Bethlehem? Galilee? It would be like trying to find the proverbial needle in a haystack.
Already somewhat disturbed by their earlier encounter with Herod, the Magi are understandably a lot more cautious and more than a little concerned when Herod calls them back for a second meeting. “Say, ah,” Herod begins, this time maintaining his composure, “can you tell me a little bit more about this star and the reason for your visit?” So, they go over the signs and the details of their journey again.
“Well, yes,” Herod fumbles, “this certainly is ‘good’ news … good news indeed. We’ve been expecting the arrival of this ‘king’ from the House of David for a long time … well, for centuries, actually. If it’s all right with you fellows, ah … we’d love to join with you in welcoming this ‘King of the Jews” … where did you say this star stopped?”
None of this makes sense to the Magi. “Bethlehem is only six miles away,” they wonder, “but everyone we talk to seems to be in the dark. We had to ride a thousand miles to see this king and they don’t even know where he is. Herod has to ask us to find him for them. Something just isn’t right. Why didn’t they come with us to experience this amazing moment for themselves?”
When the Magi don’t come back and Herod realizes that he’s been outwitted by them, he is beyond furious. He is apoplectic. He goes into a blood rage and issues a horrendous edict to have all the boys two years old and younger in Bethlehem and the surrounding area killed as a way to once again protect his throne and his power. But it wasn’t the Magi who outwitted him … it was God. It was the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob who created a heavenly light to lead the Magi to the exact spot where Jesus was living. And it was God who warned the Magi “in a dream” not to go back to Jerusalem and report what they had found to Herod (Matthew 2:12). It was also God who provided the gold, the frankincense, and myrrh.
To the Magi, the gold and incense and myrrh were merely gifts … tributes … to this heavenly-proclaimed King of the Jews. They were costly, expensive gifts that any thief or robber would have loved to have taken off their hands as the Magi journeyed from what is modern day Iran to Jerusalem. Gold … incense ... and perfume. And, as is common in God’s economy, these gifts would serve a number of purposes … purposes that these Magi could have never imagined. God warned Joseph to take his family and flee to Egypt lest Jesus be killed. Joseph got up in the middle of the night, gathered up his family and a few belongings, and fled. How could Joseph, a simple carpenter, afford to make such a trip? How could he provide for his family in a foreign land? Jehovah Jireh! God provided … and provided handsomely! Gold … frankincense … and myrrh.
These gifts … which had travelled all the way from Persia … were compact, portable, expensive, and easily traded or sold. God inspired the Magi to give these particular gifts as a way of providing for Joseph and his family during the time of their exile in Egypt.
God also inspired these Magi to give Jesus these gifts for another reason. The gold represented the wealth and power of a king. Frankincense was used in the Temple worship of the Lord. It represented Jesus’ deity. And then there was myrrh … a kind of perfume made from the leaves of the Cistus rose. It was used in beauty treatments. When mixed with vinegar, it could be used as an anesthetic. Myrrh was also used to anoint a dead body in preparation for burial. So, the gift of myrrh foreshadowed Jesus’ suffering and death.
Gold … fit for king. And Jesus was born King of the Jews. Frankincense … whose fragrance rises to God … used by the priests during worship. Jesus would become our High Priest … the One who enables us to come to God. Myrrh … a resin that would be used to anoint Jesus’ body after His death on a cruel Roman cross for our sins.
Did the Magi know or understand all this? No … not at all. But I believe that God had arranged it so that their gifts to the holy child would point us to who He is and why He came.
And this is exactly what John H. Hopkins tries to do … and does it brilliantly … in his hymn “We Three Kings.” If you look at the bottom of the hymn on page 254, you’ll notice that Hopkins wrote both the words and the music. Let’s start with the music …
The rhythm of the carol is deliberately “plodding.” Picture yourself riding on a horse or camel. Swaying back and forth. Hopkins’ carol has that same rhythm. You are there! Swaying back and forth. Riding in the caravan with the Magi, following a star to Jerusalem.
If you look at the musical time signature at the beginning of the hymn, it’s 3/8. Hmmm … 3/8 … 3 beats per measure … 3 three kings … 3 gifts. “If you think about it for a moment,” says music professor and pastor Charles Hoffacker, “you may agree with me that ‘We Three Kings’ represents a remarkable marriage of text and tune.”
And yet, ironically, almost every discussion of the carol “We Three Kings” involves pointing out its historical and scriptural inconsistencies and errors. Matthew, for example, doesn’t indicate how many kings travelled to Bethlehem. And, in fact, Matthew calls them “wisemen” or astrologers … not kings. As I said earlier, the Magi were astrologers, philosophers, scientists, mathematicians. They were legal experts … which is where we get our word “magistrate.” One of the main duties of the Magi was to choose who would become king in Persia. They were king makers … but not kings. There is no doubt that there were more than three but the tradition of the “three” wisemen grew up around the notion of the gifts. Three gifts … three Magi. Artists and composers like John Hopkins have painted such endearing experiences of that moment that the three wisemen have become an iconic and permanent part of our Christmas celebration. From creches to Christmas cards to Christmas pageants … the three wise men are there. Joseph, Mary, and Baby Jesus front and center … shepherds to the left … and wisemen on the right. Hopkins may have taken literary license with Matthew’s account but, to be fair, we don’t actually sing Hopkins’ carol correctly either … and that’s a shame.
Look at the hymn on page 254. “We three kings of orient are …”. “We” three kings. The first stanza was meant to be sung by “three kings” … a trio of male singers who speak together of their long journey over “field and fountain, moor and mountain,” following a star so that they can bring gifts to this new born King of the Jews.
Now, the carol is written in the key of G. This was done to accommodate children’s voices, who now sing the refrain: “O star of wonder, star of light, … star with royal beauty bright, … westward leading, still proceeding, … guide us to thy perfect light.”
Did you catch it? Look at the refrain again. The star is “still proceeding.” God is still guiding us with His Perfect Light. And we … like the children singing in our place … must follow the star as the wisemen did 2,000 years ago.
Three men sing stanza 1. The children sing the refrain. And then Mage #1 steps forward with his gift in hand and sings: “Born a king on Bethlehem’s plain, gold I bring” … notice the change in pronouns from “we” three kings to gold “I” bring. “Gold I bring to crown Him again.” Did you catch that? “Gold I bring” to what? To “crown him again.” Hopkins doesn’t miss the fact that Jesus was already a king before He was born. “King forever, ceasing never, over us all to reign” (stanza 2). “King forever … ceasing never … over us all to reign.” King from the beginning of time. King until the end of time … and beyond. King over us all … not just the Jews … not just the Magi … not just the people who were around when Jesus was born. He is king over us today … you and me. He is the King of generations past and generations to come because He is King forever, ceasing never. Can any other king that was, that is, or is to come make that claim? And because He is and was and will always be ... this “star with royal beauty” is “still preceding,” still guiding us with His Perfect Light.
Then Mage #2 steps forward. “Frankincense to offer have I; incense owns a deity nigh; prayer and praising, voices raising; worshipping God on high” (stanza 3).
Why was frankincense offered at the Temple? Like the smell of the burnt sacrifice, the pleasing odor would rise to God’s abode and the fragrance would let God know that we were thinking of Him, worshipping Him, and praising Him. In fact, God gave Moses a special recipe for the incense to be used in the Tabernacle. “The Lord said to Moses: Take sweet spices, stacte, and onycha, and galbanum … sweet spices with … frankincense” (Exodus 30:34). God then stipulated that no other incense could ever be used on the Altar of Incense and He also stipulated that the incense could only be lit with a coal from the sacrificial altar so that He would know that the only way He could smell the incense was if it were lit in the Tabernacle or Temple because the only way it could be lit was with a coal from the sacrificial altar in the Tabernacle or Temple.
In Scripture, incense is often associated with prayer. David prayed: “May my prayer be set before You like incense” (Psalm 141:2). The smoke and the fragrance of our prayers rise up to God as a sweet offering, letting God know that we are thinking about Him, praising Him, and worshipping Him. “Prayer and praising, voices raising,” writes Hopkins, “worshiping God on high” (stanza 3).
Then the children sing again … encouraging us to follow God’s guiding light as the second Mage rejoins his companions.
Mage #3 steps forward, gift in hand: “Myrrh is mine; it’s bitter perfume … breathes a life of gathering gloom; sorrowing, sighing, bleeding, dying … sealed in the stone cold tomb” (stanza 4).
As I pointed out before, did the Magi understand this? No … but we do. We do because of Jesus’ death … Jesus’ sacrifice … Jesus’ atonement of our sins that came at such a dear, dear cost to Himself.
The children once again remind us that God’s star … which is Jesus … is still proceeding … still guiding us to His perfect Light … which, again, is Jesus. And He can’t do that if He’s still lying dead in a stone-cold tomb, can He?
Mage #3 steps back in line and all three Magi join their voices together to sing the final stanza: “Glorious now behold Him arise” (stanza 5). Are they speaking of a baby here? A child? Or the Risen King? “King and God and sacrifice” (stanza 5). How beautifully Hopkins brings it all together here! King and God and sacrifice … symbolized by the Magi’s gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Gold for a king. Incense for our Holy God. Myrrh for the crucified Lamb of God. “Alleluia … alleluia … sounds through the earth and skies” (stanza 5) … again, a reminder for us to follow the “star of wonder” ... the “star with royal beauty bright” … westward to Bethlehem … where we bear our gifts not just to the King of the Jews but to our King as well!
What gifts do we royal ones have for Christ? What gold, what frankincense, what myrrh do we have to offer? What tribute do we bring, not just to the infant King but to our risen King as well?
We give Christ our gold when we realize that our lives are not our own private possessions. We give Christ our gold when we know that we are not here to pursue our own pleasure, our own objectives, or even what we see to be our duty … that we are here to do what Christ wants us to do.
But we have trouble giving Him gold, don’t we? We have trouble even seeing that this is what we ought to do. Instead we seek self-fulfillment outside of Him … whether achievements, or possessions, or some quick fix. We seek self-fulfillment outside of Him and the self that is fulfilled is but a shadow of what we are meant to be. We need not clutch our treasures to ourselves. Let us give Christ our gold, amen?
We give Christ frankincense when we make our lives a fragrant offering through prayer. We give Christ frankincense when we try to pray even as we breath … in season and out of season … in good times and bad. Our incense of prayer may only be a few poor granules, yet it is an offering pleasing to the Lord of Heaven.
But we have trouble giving Him our frankincense, don’t we? We have trouble even seeing that this is what we ought to do. The embers meant to ignite our incense have grown cold and dark. These embers … simplicity and silence, a willingness to listen, a readiness to wait … are often absent from our lives. Yet we need not be empty of prayer. The flames can rise again … hot and joyous … and the smoke pour forth. Let us give Christ our frankincense, amen?
We give Christ myrrh when we join in His sufferings for the life of this world. We give Christ myrrh when we do not suffer hopelessly but offer up our pain in union with His. The choice is not whether we will suffer but how we will suffer … whether ours will be meaningless pain, driving us down to hell … or pain that brings new life … that lifts us up to Heaven.
But we have trouble giving Christ our myrrh. We have trouble even seeing that this is what we ought to do. We want protection from pain rather than for Christ to conquer it. We would rather deny death and avoid life than have Christ trample death and bestow life. Do we allow our hearts to go wild? Jesus’ stay in the tomb was only for a time … three days. Christ’s resurrection contains the promise of our own. Let’s give Him our myrrh, amen?
We are royal persons … made in God’s image … Kings from the Orient bearing gifts to Christ of gold and frankincense and myrrh. These gifts reveal Him as Lord of our lives … as God most high … as death’s conqueror. These gifts also reveal our Christian path … the way we take with Christ from His birth to His death … from the wood of the manger to the wood of the cross … from the stable’s darkness to the tomb’s darkness … from the light of a midnight star to the light of resurrection morning.
Gold … frankincense … myrrh. These are not all the gifts in Hopkin’s hymn. The final gift is the one that God has given to us. The final gift is the death, the sacrifice, the resurrection of Christ and our death, our resurrection into new life … eternal life with Him … a joy past all telling. “Glorious now behold Him arise … king and God and sacrifice … alleluia, alleluia sounds through the earth and skies” (stanza 5).
That baby lying in a manger was and is Jehovah Sabaoth (Sab-bi-aTH) … the Lord of Hosts … El Shaddai … the Lord God Almighty … Jehovah Jireh … the Lord Who Provides … Jehovah Shammah … the Lord Who is There … our refuge and our strength … our very present help though the mountains should shake, the earth change, the nations rise, the kingdoms totter, or the earth melts, amen?
