Life presents us with difficult choices. You know what I'm talking about, don't you? You have your kingdoms just as I did, your spheres of influence -- families, communities, businesses. You have to manage somehow, you have to find a place for yourself and exert your will, unless you want everyone else to stomp all over you. And the armies of Rome are worse by far, aren't they? So you do what you have to do. If you don't look out for yourself no one else will. You protect yourself.

Don't kid yourselves that you wouldn't have done what I did. Oh, I know, the record isn't pretty. It's true that I had my wife Mariamne killed, but you need to realize that I married her for political, not romantic, reasons. She was part of the Hasmonaean family -- my chief rivals. I was hoping to make allies out of enemies but it didn't work. She was Hasmonaean through and through -- as were her sons. They plotted against me, everyone agreed. So I had to remove the threat. I had other wives, other sons.

I know it looks bad. But we -- all of us -- use the power at our disposal, don't we? You don't think you would have done such a thing? Really? Have you ever felt threatened by someone? Ever felt the knife of jealousy thrust deep into your heart? Ever wanted to get rid of a person? Oh you wouldn't think of murder, of course not, but have you ever used the means at your disposal? A tongue that twists the truth just a bit and deftly passes on gossip disguised as Christian concern? A cold shoulder that maneuvers someone out of your life and relationships? And your spouse -- haven't you ever wanted to be free? Perhaps you've already used the means at your disposal; your courts have made it all so neat and tidy for you. Don't tell me I'm so bad. I'm more like you than you'll probably like to admit. Well, we're only human. At least, you are and I was. No one's perfect.

It's ironic that I should be remembered in history for that brief conversation with astrologers from Persia. Who would have thought anything momentous or historic was happening? I had been engaged in some great affairs of state. Yes, I had power, and I used it to great advantage. For the good of the people. To this day there are ruins of cities I built still hugging the Mediterranean. And the beloved Temple of the Jews in Jerusalem -- I built it. But am I remembered for any of these things? No, and for good reason.

My aide -- a squirrelly little guy who always smelled like he hadn't bathed in a month and had a bald spot in his beard, a thoroughly unpleasant creature, but loyal, oh so loyal -- came into my office late one morning to announce the arrival of bigshots from the east. It had been one of those days. The chief contractor on one of my building projects had inconsiderately dropped dead; I had heard that a group of crazy fundamentalists had locked themselves in a synagogue in Jericho and vowed to fast until the Messiah came; and one of my wives told me the latest court rumor about another of my wives. I could have used a Messiah myself at that point, but rarely do we know what we really need. So I had just reached for a bottle of Scotch when my aide announced with a shower of spit falling on my latest papers from Rome that foreign visitors had just arrived bearing greetings. I started to tell him where he could put their greetings, when they walked into the room.