After my unfortunate run in with the fallen me at the inn door the other day, my thoughts have turned to other characters of the birth tale.  Hoping to pick myself up and dust off the bruised pride, I begin to think, “Wouldn’t it be nice to be the wise man?”

This morning, my kids and I were looking at Philippians chapter 3.

I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.  Philippians 3:14

We talked about how often Paul uses that phrase “press on” and how it imbibed thoughts of training, working out, striving.  (Again with the I Timothy 4:7). In order to truly press, there must be resistance.  We get that from without and from within.  There must also be will and persistence and devotion to the goal and a clear vision of what that goal is and how to move in order to reach it.  

This, to me, best epitomizes a wise man.  

In order for them to find themselves at the feet of a mere Child, a King in hiding, a number of things must have been true.  

One, they must have been looking up.  

They would have never attained their renown had they been looking anywhere else–at self, at circumstances, at others around them, at a grocery list, at a meeting agenda, at a box of memories of days gone by, at their enemies, at their achievements, or at their regrets.  These men were looking in the right direction, following a map of heavenly making.

Wise as they were, they didn’t have all the answers.  Secondly then, they must have been humble.  

It might have begun with a late night conversation among friends.  A casual observance of something new, something uncharted, something only someone with discerning eyes would ever notice at that distance. But rather than simply note that it was interesting, they followed their observation with action. They took a moment to step aside and investigate.  Just like Moses at the burning bush, they moved in action toward that which seemed to be calling their names.  

You know Jesus was a toddler by the time they got there.  It took them time.  Add to that long and arduous thought that they really had no idea where they would end up until they were mere miles from Him.  A third thing we know of them:  despite their unanswered questions, the length of their struggle, the tiredness of their bones or the resistance that pressed them back toward the familiarity and comforts of home, they persisted in search of a King.  

There will come a day when Christ will be very easy to find, all eyes will rest on Him and He will ride on clouds through the air.  This was not that day.  The One they searched for was tucked away in a tiny town, in an innocuous home, with no fanfare, no golden halo with neon arrows.  

They had to be willing to press on.

No one ever fell into holiness.

It takes work.

Fourth, they had all the resources the world had to offer, but the greatest thrill worth striving for couldn’t be bought.  The one thing they hung their hats on, the one story they’d lay on their beds at night reliving would be the moment when they knelt before a Child King who all the heavens had announced in a blaze of glory one night.  The prize was more than worth it.

A final truth:  they came before the King, they didn’t just talk but they moved, they offered Him their time and their possessions, they knelt at His feet, they grasped the enormity of that moment, and then they went home.  What of that story would ever make them think, “Hey we’ve done something monumental here!  People will be talking about this for…EVER!”  

Nothing.  In their own limited vision, they probably just thought they were the most blessed guys on the planet, never dreaming that by making their offering, moving in faith toward a King they knew had come, they would be shaping history, contributing to the Kingdom of God in a way that would be known to countless generations.

You never know what might come from moving toward the King.

The impact of our lives, our place in His story is beyond our ability to see or understand, we have to have something more within our realm of possibility.  We have to have a point of reference for who we are, where we’re going, what our lives are meant to be.  

And so we find ourselves back at number one.  With eyes heavenward, we cease striving for all that is available and we, with our humble offerings in hand, press on toward the kneeling bench at the feet of a King.

I could be a wise man.  But it won’t just happen.