“… Going into the house they saw the Child with Mary His Mother, and they fell down and worshiped Him. Then, opening their treasures, they offered Him gifts, gold, frankincense, and myrrh.” — Matthew 2:11-12

Mary looks up at the approach of the Magi. Their long, colorful robes glitter in the lamplight, and the look of expectation on their faces turns to wonder and awe at the sight of the Child. One by one, they gravely bow their stately forms, palms down and faces to the ground.

The little Virgin of Nazareth’s heart is pounding, but not with fear. Rather, she is struck with awe at the work of the Lord being revealed to her. By His mercy – His mercy alone! – she has become the site of pilgrimage for the firstfruits of the Gentiles. As she gazes at the prostrate forms of the bronzed worshippers, she seems to see beyond them the forms of countless others arriving to offer their worship to the God-Child. Men, women, and children of every conceivable race, tribe, and tongue approach and imitate the profound reverence of the Magi. And, gazing upon them, Mary feels a sudden surge of love in her heart for these people – these gentiles – whom she has never seen before. For, with a woman’s intuition, she realizes that these, too, are her children.

Slowly, the Magi rise. Still moving with deep reverence and solemnity, they each open ornate boxes and present them one by one to the gazing Child. First, He picks up one of the shimmering gold coins, staring at it with the pensiveness of a baby discovering something new. Then He gravely attempts to fit it in His mouth. Mary, laughing, gently pulls it away and points to the next gift, that of frankincense. The faces of the Wise Men show an extra glimmer of wonder and joy at the sheer humanness of the Child.

The Little Lord then turns His attention to the silver casket of incense. Grabbing a handful of the sticky beads, He brings them towards His tiny face for closer examination. Mary is watching attentively lest He try to put this in His mouth as well. But no, a delightful thing happens instead. As the powerful perfume wafts from the frankincense, the Child’s little nose wrinkles. Then, suddenly, He sneezes – a Divine and human sneeze! Even the somber Magi begin to smile as He drops the beads and Mary tries to keep Him from using that same hand to rub His eyes.

Finally, the jewel-encrusted jar of myrrh is placed before the Child. As He peers into its fragrant depths, there comes over His face, just for a moment, a look that gives all present reason to pause. He seems to be staring far beyond the present moment, looking into a future that makes His deep brown eyes suddenly darker. Mary has seen this look before, this sudden, almost imperceptible flaring forth of the Eternal. But almost as soon as it has come, the look is gone, replaced by a baby sniffle as He turns to her with big Infant eyes and quivering lip. Ah, He knows the meaning of this gift – clearly so in His divinity, but only in the vague manner of a child in His humanity. All His little human mind perceives is a strange darkness that frightens Him, and He clings to His Mother with the instinctive gesture of a threatened child.

Mary has not yet heard Simeon’s prophecy, yet she is troubled by her Son’s reaction and sees that there is something dark and mysterious that has caused it. For a moment she seems to detect a brightness in the final Wise Man’s eyes mirroring that of the Child – but it is gone too quickly to be sure.

An unknown iconographer will capture this scene one day in a mystic vision. The Child, His sandal loosened in His haste, clings to His Mother for protection as two angels hover near with those sacred and terrible Instruments. Mary seems not to see them, but embraces the Infant securely and gives a searching gaze into the mysterious future, seeking the vision that has so frightened Him.

But back in the simple lodging at Bethlehem, the three visitors are making ready to leave. Not a word has been spoken – perhaps, thanks to Babel, the Wise Men and the Holy Family would not have understood each other anyhow. But the language of the heart and of silence has communicated far more than faltering speech ever could. The Magi bow deeply again, and then they regally depart, leaving their sparkling and fragrant gifts that seem so out of place in the bare little room.

Mary turns to Joseph, who has silently watched this whole scene. A look of wonder passes between them, then both look down at the Child. He seems to have forgotten His sorrow and is playing with His mother’s shawl like any other infant. But they both know there are depths to Him that they have yet to fully fathom. The husband and wife then tuck the royal gifts securely away, not knowing how soon they will be needing them …