Read Matthew ch 2 v 2-12.
Voice of a Wise Man.
The mystery King would be King of the Jews.
We knew that the star was his star.
Who would know of this thing?
When we met with their king,
He wasn’t our king,
Wasn’t the star king.
He hadn’t heard the good news.
We told of our quest, with hearts on fire,
To find the star King,
Be near him, revere him.
That was our only desire.
Their king asked the priests, to define
What was this thing?
What was the place, and the time
Of his coming?
The one they expected, some day.
The one who connected, some way,
The bits of their myst’ry,
Down through their hist’ry.
Appointed, by their God,
Anointed, for the job.
He was called the Messiah.
But their king was a liar.
He sent us word.
“Meet me, secretly.”So we
Met him where
He said there,
Too soft to be
Overheard.
“When you find this King
Be so kind as to bring
Me news.
Please send it to me
And I’ll bend, the knee,
As well,
In humble adoration.”
But he would not bend,
That king from hell,
His mind already bent,
(On assassination.)
We said, “Sir, you are too kind.”
And so we left.
The star led on.
What had we gone
To find?
Then there he was,
Just some kid.
Our jaws dropped.
How did we know?
Nothing to show.
Nobody face,
In a nowhere place.
Our eyes popped.
A displaced, family
Who could see?
Who could care,
Less, I guess?
A village shed,
But that’s where
The star led.
And stopped.
Just some boy, but still
Our hearts start
With joy to fill.
Our gifts seemed
Out of place
In that place.
But we deemed
Him, star King,
Our King,
Beginning and end
Of our quest, all quests.
We were his guests
We had to bend
And pay respects.
Narrator.
Could they see
Then, what it meant?
What we see now is,
Prophecy;
Not their intent
But His.
Gold, incense, myrrh,
Three things, offerings;
Each brings
With it, heard,
One great word:
A King
Who’s God
Whom we, interr.
There are kings who control through men and machines.
There are kings who command through military means.
There are kings who govern through systems and schemes.
But this one had power over dreams.
He sent a dream
While deep
In our sleep
To keep
Underlined
In our mind
That words are cheap
And kings not
What they seem.
We could not bring
Our news
To their king
Of Jews,
Could not tell
Him from hell
Or he would quickly use
It, and filled
With hate,
Would wait
Till we had gone
And have the star King killed.
He would not bend.
We travelled on
By paths unknown
To friend
Or enemy, secretly
To our home.
A feeling they couldn’t miss,
Came into their hearts they were sure.
That down through all hist’ry
There’s no greater myst’ry
Than this:–
The star King,
Was something,
More than anything
Else, and still he was more.
The star King,
Was something,
More than anything
Else. Yet he chose to be poor.
He chose to be poor.
