Emphasis Preaching Journal

A story is told of the late King Hussein of Jordan. In the latter years of the king's reign, there was a terrible tragedy. Two Israeli schoolgirls were playing in a park called the "Island of Peace," located in the middle of the Jordan River, right on the border between the two countries. While they were playing, the girls were shot dead by a Jordanian soldier, for no apparent reason. The news media flashed the story around the world with lightning speed. For a short while, it seemed that the fragile peace between Israel and Jordan could be broken. But then it became clear that the soldier was suffering from an undiagnosed mental illness, and that he had acted with no authorization from anyone. Apologies were made in diplomatic circles, and they were accepted. The world breathed easier.

There the story could well have ended -- were it not for King Hussein. Hearing what one of his soldiers had done, the king left his throne, left his palace, left even his own country, and traveled to the humble homes of the families of the two slain Israeli girls. Entering each house in turn, King Hussein -- who was used to having people bow before him -- fell down on his knees. He bowed before the grieving parents. Then he looked up into their eyes and said, "I beg you, forgive me, forgive me. Your daughter is like my daughter, your loss is my loss. May God help you to bear your pain." There was nothing in the annals of diplomatic protocol that suggested a king needed to humble himself like that. Ironically, it was a Muslim king who gave the world, that day, a glimpse of how a truly Christlike king might behave.

The Magi knelt before the Christ Child. Although they were probably not kings, but rather scholars who studied the heavens, they were probably people of high status. Yet, that made no difference to them: for, in the presence of the Son of God, they, too, were humble enough to kneel.