Still Seeking
Matthew 2:1-23
January 1, 2023
Rev. Rhonda Blevins, Pastor
In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, magi from the east came to Jerusalem, asking, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star in the east and have come to pay him homage.” When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him, and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. They told him, “In Bethlehem of Judea, for so it has been written by the prophet:
‘And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,
are by no means least among the rulers of Judah,
for from you shall come a ruler
who is to shepherd my people Israel.’”
Then Herod secretly called for the magi and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, “Go and search diligently for the child, and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.” When they had heard the king, they set out, and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen in the east, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother, and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.
Now after they had left, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, “Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you, for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him.” Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother by night, and went to Egypt and remained there until the death of Herod. This was to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet, “Out of Egypt I have called my son.”
When Herod saw that he had been tricked by the magi, he was infuriated, and he sent and
killed all the children in and around Bethlehem who were two years old or under, according to the time that he had learned from the magi. Then what had been spoken through the prophet Jeremiah was fulfilled:
“A voice was heard in Ramah,
wailing and loud lamentation,
Rachel weeping for her children;
she refused to be consoled, because they are no more.”
When Herod died, an angel of the Lord suddenly appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt and said, “Get up, take the child and his mother, and go to the land of Israel, for those who were seeking the child’s life are dead.” Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother, and went to the land of Israel. But when he heard that Archelaus was ruling Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there. And after being warned in a dream, he went away to the district of Galilee. There he made his home in a town called Nazareth, so that what had been spoken through the prophets might be fulfilled, “He will be called a Nazarene.”
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You’ve heard the story of the three wise men, those stargazers from afar who followed a bright light, found the Christ-child, paid homage, and presented gold and frankincense and myrrh. You’ve heard the story of the three wise men, but have you heard the story of the fourth wise man?
It’s a beautiful tale—a short story written by the Reverend Henry Van Dyke, first published in 1895, entitled “The Story of the Other Wise Man.”[1] Van Dyke claimed the story came to him like a gift during a time of great trial, a time when he battled illness and thought death was imminent. He received his inspiration for the story like a gift and wrote the tale in a beautiful prose—a gift for all who might read it. I want to summarize the story for you and ask you some questions as we go. The story goes like this . . .
Artaban was a magi, a devout follower of the Zoroastrian faith. He and three of his magi friends discovered a star, unlike any other, arising in the celestial House of the Hebrews. The prophesies foretold that a great king, a king for all peoples would be born, and the four friends believed that this beautiful, unique star heralded this king’s arrival. So convinced were they, that they made plans to travel across the desert to find this king for all people. As the four young men gathered supplies and made plans for the months-long journey, Artaban traveled back to his hometown to see his family and friends, to tell them about what he and his friends observed and about their plans to travel. He invited his kinsmen to join them, but one by one, they all turned him down, each with his own reason: one thought it a fool’s errand, another was newly married, another too old and frail. Artaban’s three friends agreed to wait for him to begin their journey, but if Artaban did not return to them within ten days, they would leave without him.
After Artaban’s visit home, he had to make haste to arrive back in time to meet his friends before they set off for the land of the Hebrews. Artaban and his trusty steed traveled day and night, resting only briefly under the nighttime sky. He carried with him three treasures, gifts he would present to the young king of all peoples—a sapphire, a ruby, and a pearl of great price. He kept them close to him—inside his garments—protecting them so that he could present them upon finding the king for all people.
Artaban neared the meeting place where his friends waited for him. Because of his haste and the strength of his horse, he believed he would make it in time. But on a deserted back road, late at night in a palm grove near Babylon, he saw a man in distress, sick unto death. Artaban believed he could help the man (magi not only knew stars but medicine). But tending to the man would take time—surely his friends would leave without him:
But if he went on now, the man would surely die. If he stayed, life might be restored. His spirit throbbed and fluttered with the urgency of the crisis. Should he risk the great reward of his divine faith for the sake of a single deed of human love? Should he turn aside, if only for a moment, from the following of the star, to give a cup of cold water to a poor, perishing [man]?
“God of truth and purity,” he prayed, “direct me in the holy path, the way of wisdom which Thou only knowest.”
Do you know what Artaban did after praying that prayer? He tended the man back to health. And because he tended the sick man, his three friends left, following the star without him.
Only God the merciful knows whether I shall not lose the sight of the King because I tarried to show mercy.
The first question: is tending another’s need good reason to stop following one’s religious path?
Poor Artaban. His friends left to seek the Christ child without him. Undeterred from his mission, Artaban would set off after them. But he did not have adequate supplies to make the journey alone, six months across the desert. So he took one of the treasures, the sapphire meant as a gift for the king whom he sought, and traded the sapphire for camels and provisions for the long, westward journey.
He traveled alone for months through a craggy, desolate place, arriving at last where the star led, to a town called Bethlehem. The town was eerily quiet. But Artaban found a young woman with an infant son who told him about three men who arrived three days prior, leaving expensive gifts for Joseph and Mary and their young child. She told Artaban how the men left as quickly as they came, how Joseph and Mary and their son left that same night—rumor had it they were fleeing for Egypt. As for why the town was so eerily quiet, there were whispers of Herod’s men making their way to the village to levy some sort of tax, so the men of the town had taken the livestock far off into the countryside.
The woman fed Artaban a peasant’s stew and told him all that had taken place as her young son drifted off to sleep. But as soon as dinner was finished, they began to hear screams. A neighbor ran to her home to tell her Herod’s soldiers were going about slaughtering infant boys! As the soldiers approached the house with blood-soaked hands, the woman crouched in a corner with her child, while Artaban stood in the doorway. He pulled out the ruby, the one meant for the King, and told the soldier:
I am all alone in this place, and I am waiting to give this jewel to the prudent captain who will leave me in peace.
The soldier’s eyes grew wide with greed. He grabbed the ruby and told the other soldiers that there was no child inside.
Artaban then prayed:
God of truth, forgive my sin! I have said the thing that is not, to save the life of a child. And two of my gifts are gone. I have spent for man that which was meant for God. Shall I ever be worthy to see the face of the King?
Which leads me to a second question: is telling a lie ever the highest good? Did Artaban sin when he told this lie?
Back to the tale. Artaban left the village after the tragic events of that night, and he traveled to the land of Egypt, still seeking the Christ child and his family. Days turned into weeks. Weeks into months. Months into years. Artaban was still seeking.
Thirty-three years passed; Artaban was no longer a young man. But he never gave up his quest. His search led Artaban back to Jerusalem. It was crowded with religious pilgrims for the feast of the Passover. The city was abuzz with talk of an execution at Golgotha—one who claimed to be the “King of the Jews.” Artaban wondered if it could be? If this could be the one whom he had been seeking all these years. But as he was making his way, he witnessed a young woman break away from some men—she begged Artaban to help her saying that her father owed the men money, but he died and they were taking her as a slave. He felt compassion for the young woman in her desperation.
Artaban trembled. It was the old conflict in his soul, which had come to him in the palm grove of Babylon and in the cottage at Bethlehem—the conflict between the expectation of faith and the impulse of love. Twice the gift he had consecrated to the worship of religion had been drawn from his hand to the service of humanity. This was the third trial, the ultimate probation, the final and irrevocable choice. Was it his great opportunity or his last temptation? He could not tell.
He pulled out the final treasure meant for the King—the pearl of great price—he handed it to the desperate young woman so that she might buy her freedom.
A third question is this: is the “expectation of faith” ever at odds with “the impulse of love?”
Of the fourth wise man it was written:
I saw [him] again and again, traveling from place to place, and searching among the people of the dispersion, with whom the little family from Bethlehem might, perhaps, have found a refuge. He passed through countries where famine lay heavy upon the land and the poor were crying for bread. He made his dwelling in plague-stricken cities where the sick were languishing in the bitter companionship of helpless misery. He visited the oppressed and the afflicted in the gloom of subterranean prisons, and the crowded wretchedness of slave-markets, and the weary toil of galley-ships. In all this populous and intricate world of anguish, though he found none to worship, he found many to help.
The story of the three wise men is a beautiful story for those who seek and find . . . a story that helps us understand that Christ came not just for the Hebrews but that this child born in Bethlehem would be a King for all people! The three wise men is a story for those who seek, who find, who return home having crossed that off their to-do list.
But the story of the fourth wise man is a story for the rest of us—those of us still seeking—those of us still on our way to find the Christ—those who live with less certainty—those for whom the world is less black and white and more shades of gray . . .
· is tending another’s need good reason to stop following one’s religious path?
· is telling a lie ever the highest good?
· is the “expectation of faith” ever at odds with “the impulse of love?”
Artaban, the “other wise man” was a “fool for Christ” but “other-wise.” Was his search for Christ interrupted by his love for others?
Or . . .
Was his love for others the perfect manifestation of his deep and desperate search for Christ?
I won’t tell you exactly how Artaban’s story ends, because if you have ears to hear, you already know. Let’s just say it hearkens to something we read later in Matthew’s Gospel (25:40):
Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did it to me.
Though Artaban never paid homage, he certainly found the King.
My final question for you is this: have you?
[1] Read the entire story here: https://www.gutenberg.org/files/10679/10679-h/10679-h.htm