Epiphany

January 6, 2008

Omaha, NE

Rev. Steven W. Plank

“Turn on the Lights!”

Text: Isaiah 60:1a – “Arise, shine; for your light has come…”

Scripture Lessons: Matthew 2:1-12

Isaiah 60:1-6

Proposition: Christ has brought grace, love, and light into the world, and we are called to help shine his light into the dark places of our world and of our lives. So, let’s “Turn on the Lights!”

Prayer for Illumination: Almighty God, in you are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. Open our eyes that we may see the wonders of your Word; and give us grace that we may clearly understand and freely choose the way of your wisdom; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Today is January 6^th, which, in the calendar of the Church, is Epiphany. Since it is a fixed holiday, unlike Easter which can be anywhere from March 22 to April 25, Epiphany rarely falls on a Sunday. This year is a wonderful exception, because it is a wonderful holiday.

Epiphany is a holiday that emphasizes light, since the birth of Jesus was about the One who brings light into the world. It also incorporates the story of the Three Wise Men, or Magi, who followed the light to give honor to the Christ Child and his parents.

The Magi were an interesting bunch of folks. They most likely were a priestly caste within the Persian empire, and they followed the religion of Zoroastrianism. They were scholars and scientists, and paid particular attention to the objects in the sky, believing that the purpose of God was played out in signs among the sun, moon, planets, and stars. When they observed something very unusual in the night skies around 4-7 b.c., they determined that a new king – a Hebrew king – would be born soon who would impact the whole world.

We know the story of the Magi. We sing about their sojourn. We remember their gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. We hear each year about their visit with King Herod, about their attentiveness to their dreams, and about their decision not to return to Herod after their visit to the Holy Family, determining, rightly so, that he was most definitely someone not to be trusted. The Wise Men must have been amazing folks. You heard, however, the question about how differently things might have played out of the Magi had been women? As the story goes, if the three wise men had been three wise women, they would have asked for directions, arrived on time, helped deliver the baby, cleaned the stable, made a casserole, and brought practical gifts.

Do you know there’s a story about yet another Magi… a fourth Magi? I heard about this story only a few weeks ago, and looked it up. It is called, “The Story of the Other Wise Man,” and it was written in 1896 by the Rev. Henry van Dyke, Presbyterian minister, author, scholar and U.S. ambassador. It is a long story, but I’d like to summarize it for you.

According to van Dyke’s story, there were four Magi that originally were going to make the long journey from Persia to Israel in search of the new king that was promised in the stars. Melchior, Casper, and Balthazar are the ones with whom we are familiar, for theirs is the record we have heard and learned. However, a fourth one was to be a part of their sojourn: Artaban. Artaban prepared himself to join the other three magi at an oasis in the desert of Persia, and his gift was going to be three jewels: a sapphire, a ruby, and a pearl. He put together a few provisions, mounted his horse, and set off for the three day journey to the oasis. The caravan was going to leave at midnight, and Artaban knew he would have to hurry to make it on time.

Although he pushed his horse, he knew that he would arrive at the oasis just in time on the appointed night, until, still a few hours from his destination, he saw a body lying across the road. He stopped, went over to the place, and saw an old man, disheveled, who appeared to have recently died. He knelt down, picked up one arm, and dropped it. There was no response, so he stood and turned to go back to his horse, knowing that the desert soon would claim another victim. However, he unexpectedly heard a gasp of breath, turned back around, and saw that the old man still was alive. Frustrated, Artaban was not sure what to do. Desert custom, as well as the dictates of his religion, required him to show compassion to those in need. Yet he knew that if he paused to help the not-quite-dead man, he most likely would miss the caravan’s start. Despite his mixed feelings, he did what he knew he must. He went back, helped the old man to his feet, and brought him over to sit under a tree. He pulled out what provisions he had, gave him water to drink and food to eat, and waited with him until his strength returned enough that he would survive until someone else came by who could take him back to his home. Before he left, the old man asked him where he was going. Artaban told him the story of his impending sojourn, and the man told him that he was a Jew and, although he had no money to repay his benefactor, he could help by giving him an important insight. “The child you are seeking,” the man told Artaban, “will not be born in Jerusalem, but in tiny Bethlehem. Head there for your quest.” With that, Artaban left and hurried on to the oasis.

As he expected, the caravan had long since left. However, they left him a note, telling them that they had gone at midnight, and urging him to follow them across the desert until he could rejoin them. Artaban knew, however, that his horse could not make such a long journey, so he went back to his city, took the sapphire he was brining as a gift, and sold it so that he could buy a camel and the provisions he would need. Off he then went.

A long time later he arrived at the village of Bethlehem. He looked and looked, and finally saw what appeared to be his destination. It was a stable that was in a hollowed out area of a hill, behind an inn. He got off of his camel, went to the door of the stable, and heard an infant and his mother. He went in, and found out from the woman, to his great disappointment, that his friends had been there three days earlier and had gone by now. She went on to explain that the child they had come to see had been taken by his parents in the middle of the night, and rumor had it that they had fled to Egypt. “Something bad is going to happen,” she told Artaban. “You can feel it in the air.” Within minutes, a commotion was heard in the village. Soldiers were running from house to house, swords drawn, and parents were crying and screaming as their children were slaughtered by command of King Herod. A group of soldiers came rushing up to the door where the woman and her child were, and Artaban stood in the way. The captain motioned for him to move aside, but he held his ground, impressive with his rich clothes and kingly bearing. Still, the soldier was intent to enter. Thinking quickly, Artaban reached into his robes and pulled out the ruby he carried. He held it out to the captain and said, “There is no child in this stable.” The soldier eyed him, and then the ruby; he took it from his hand, and ordered his troops to turn around and leave the place. The woman quietly uttered her profound thanks to Artaban for saving her and her baby.

Artaban was determined to find the king for whom he had been searching, even though his frustration was growing, and even though the only gift he now had left was the pearl. He knew from the woman where he needed to go, and he left to travel down to Egypt. Artaban searched all of the areas of Egypt that held any Hebrew residents or Hebrew immigrants, but, although he occasionally would hear stories about a couple and their baby, he never managed to find them. He still searched and searched, though, more determined than ever to complete his quest and find the new king.

He searched for some thirty years before he finally decided to give up and go back home to Persia. As he was travelling through Jerusalem on his way home, he stopped because of the commotion that was evident throughout the city. It was filled with travelers, and he paused to ask one of them what was happening. He heard about a special man, a holy man, whom the people followed but whom the authorities were determined to put to death, and that they were in the process of doing that on a hill just outside of the city as they spoke. “Could this be the king for whom I so long have searched,” Artaban wondered. “Stranger fates have happened to kings,” he realized. As he turned to go to Calvary, he heard a woman screaming. Running toward him was a young woman, clothes tattered, being chased by soldiers. She fell at his feet, begging for mercy. “They want to take me and make me a slave to their garrison. Please save me from this fate worse than death!” Yet another delay? Yet another interruption in his life’s quest? The question was posed again for Artaban: “Should he help this person in need, or should he stay true to his quest?” After these long years, Artaban reluctantly knew what his answer would have to be. He turned to face the soldiers, reached into his robe, and pulled out his last, remaining jewel – the pearl – and held it out. “This should ransom the girl,” he told the soldiers. They stopped, took the pearl, and left.

Then he heard a voice, as clear as if someone were standing right next to him:

“Then the king will say to those at his right hand, ‘Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?’ And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.’”

Henry van Dyke ends his story with these words: “A calm radiance of wonder and joy lighted the pale face of Artaban like the first ray of dawn on a snowy mountain-peak. One long, last breath of relief exhaled gently from his lips. His journey was ended. His treasures were accepted. The other Wise Man had found the King.”

We follow Jesus Christ, who is the Light of the world. Christ has brought grace, love, and light into the world, and we are called to help shine his light into the dark places of our world and of our lives. So, let’s “Turn on the Lights”… in whatever ways we can… for as long as it takes.

AMEN!