The first Christmas, as told through the eyes of a wise man, by the Rev. Edward Greene.

“A cold coming we had of it, Just the worst time of the year For a journey, and such a long journey: The ways deep and the weather sharp, The very dead of winter.” — from Journey of the Magi by T. S. Eliot

S ome people have called us kings, and that makes us laugh. We’re not kings, but slaves, astrologers in the service of a king far to the east of Judea. And like many slaves who are entrusted with powerful positions, we were made eunuchs while we were still young boys. Kings want docile servants, not rival dynasties.

Our charts had foretold a remarkable birth: the stars predicted it. Three bright planets — Jupiter, Saturn and Mars — would be in close conjunction with the star Regulus in the royal constellation Leo.

Our master sent us off as ambassadors to Herod, the king of Judea. He entrusted us with three gifts: gold for royalty, frankincense for divinity and myrrh. The myrrh was a surprise. It’s used to anoint wounds and prepare bodies for burial. A strange gift, indeed.

And so we went to pay homage at the court of Herod. We were very apprehensive. He was a notorious and paranoid man who had arranged the murder of his own wife and children because he suspected they were plotting to seize his throne.

He was not pleased to see us, but managed to hide his feelings. According to their religious leaders, the child was not to be born in Herod’s palace, but in a little town called Bethlehem. Herod asked us to find the child and report back to him, so that he could also come and pay him homage. Crazy like a fox, he was.

We sneaked out of his palace under cover of darkness, bound for Bethlehem. While we were on the road, the sign we had foreseen was high in the heavens. How beautiful it was! Four limpid points of light forming a lopsided square. They were so close together that a thumb at arm’s length was enough to cover them.

But how could we find the right house in the village? I let my eyes sweep down the path of the zodiac to the horizon. And there it was. I think we all saw it at almost the same instant. The light of four lamps, tiny stars of light shining through an open window and door, made the very same pattern as the one in the sky. We looked at each other and burst into tears.

Then we went in and presented our gifts. He was a beautiful child, and his mother was nursing him. I felt a pang of sadness for the children I could never have, and an aching resentment for the arrogant power of kings. I also felt comfort and hope, because this was a child born to bring healing to the whole world — at great cost. At great cost.

THE REV. EDWARD GREENE attends Grace Episcopal Church in Bath.