As Christmas approaches, the whole world seems to turn into a festival. Children, the elderly, young adults, and women alike begin to long for the deep mysteries of this season, setting out on an inner journey to rediscover the sources of life they usually pass by without notice. There is a trembling expectation that the greatest, most sacred gift will soon arrive.

During this season, hearts and bodies grow full, joy and gladness flow freely, and we find ourselves waiting for white snow more eagerly than at any other time. We delight in the crimson glow of poinsettias, breathe in the fragrance of evergreens, and sink into the warmth of flickering candlelight. Silver and gold ornaments, twinkling lights, beautiful gifts, ribbons, Christmas cards, carols, and the single star shining atop the Christmas tree—all these remind us of the star that, two thousand years ago, illuminated the birth of a great Child in Bethlehem. Since that night, that star has continued to shine in the hearts of all who set out in search of the festival of life, guiding them still today.

Long ago, the first people to discover the wonder of Christmas were nameless shepherd boys and the Magi from the East. Astonishingly, these two groups could not have been farther apart in social status or background—people who, under ordinary circumstances, would never have stood in the same place. We do not know who began the journey first or who arrived at the humble manger first, but we do know this: they were granted the honor of being the first to worship the Savior of the world.

They were not people swept up in the noisy crowds or lost in the frenzy of daily life. They were people who, in the quiet of their own hearts, continually searched for their star. They never forgot the promise that the great prophecy would one day be fulfilled. As Christmas approaches again this year, their journey of faith continues to move us deeply. Who were they?

They were people who lived fully in the present moment—people who grasped the new hope and promise hidden in each moment. Instead of clinging to yesterday’s disappointments, frustrations, sorrows, and wounds, they lifted their eyes to the dark night sky with today’s fresh, radiant dreams and expectations. They knew the mystery that the darker the night, the more brilliantly the stars shine. They understood how essential it was to keep their gaze fixed on the heavens.

They were also people of prayer. They knew how to hear the voice of heaven. Whether tending sheep or studying the stars, they lived continually in the presence of God. How could they have prepared gold, frankincense, and myrrh so quickly unless they had long been waiting for the Messiah with a longing ready to burst? Their prayers were not stored in barns filled with greed and desire, but offered in a pure, open space—always ready to receive God’s voice and respond in obedience.

They were people who chose truth over falsehood. In the countless daily choices that arise the moment we open our eyes, they fought the good fight toward life, toward the possibilities stirring within. And when the “strange star” finally appeared in their lives, they crossed the long desert without hesitation, with courage and resolve. They were free people—enslaved by nothing—who rose at God’s call saying, “Yes, Lord!” One group was made up of poor, rough shepherds wandering among mountains and fields; the other, of scholars pursuing lofty ideals and studying the stars. Yet both discovered the true meaning of existence.

Throughout two thousand years of human history, there have always been those who followed the star. They were not shepherds or Magi, but the disciples of Jesus, the saints, Albert Schweitzer, Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr., and countless unnamed “little Christs” who, like grains of wheat, fall into the earth and die for the life of the world.

This year again, as Christmas approaches, we find ourselves busy preparing—decorating our homes, searching late into the night for gifts on our shopping lists, cooking meals, rehearsing choir music. Yet even in this busyness, we too must set out in search of the star—seeking the star within our own hearts. To worship and proclaim the Christ Child who comes in the poorest and humblest of places, we need courage and faith more than ever—courage to set out on the journey toward the true celebration.

— Wan‑Hee Yoon, “In the Forest Where the Window Opens,” New York Korean Christian Broadcasting & “Light and Love” Monthly Magazine, December 1999