January 9, 2005
By Bob Rockford

When I was younger I knew that there were three kings who rode across the desert on camels, to find the baby Jesus.  They followed that flashing star above the stable, “This way to the Baby Jesus.”  I knew their names: Melchior, Gaspar and Balthasar.  I also knew that they had to wait outside for the shepherds and all their sheep to finish meeting the baby.  The Innkeeper outside the stable told the kings, “There’s no room in the stable.”  And when the shepherds left, the kings went into the stable and worshiped the baby wrapped in swaddling clothes.  I wasn’t sure what “swaddling clothes” were; I figured it was something the shepherds left.  And I knew what was in those presents they brought: gold, frankincense, and myrrh.  Gold I knew about, frankincense, and myrrh I had no clue.  I also knew the names of the angels that came that night, “Behold, and Suddenly.”  It says in the Bible, “Behold the angel of the Lord”, and “Suddenly the angel of the Lord appeared to them.”  I knew the story. I knew it.  But then I turned 46, and learned about the other story.           

The song says, “We Three Kings of Orient are bearing gifts we traverse afar…”

Matthew’s word “Magi” traditionally meant a class of wise men specializing in astronomy, astrology, natural science, history, and mathematics.  They were stargazers.  They were not of royal blood or members of the ruling class, but may have worked within the royal palace with the king of the country. 

They were from the Orient, which meant anything east of the eastern frontier of the Roman Empire.  They probably came from Persia.  Did you know that in 614, the Persians overran and sacked Palestine, and the Church of the Nativity, was the only place of worship left standing.  Possibly because in the 4^th Century the Church of the Nativity was decorated with a mosaic in the golden entry hall that showed the Magi dressed in Persian garb. 

The Gospel narrative never mentions how many Magi came to see Jesus.  Matthew only refers to them in the plural.  Early Christian art shows numbers ranging from 2 to 8.  A painting in the cemetery of Saint Peter shows two.  Another painting in the Lateran Museum has three.  The cemetery of Domitilla has a painting showing four and a vase in the Kircher Museum shows eight.  Henry H. Halley says in his book, Halley’s Bible Handbook, “They were men of high standing, for they had access to Herod.  They are commonly spoken of as the “Three Wise Men.”  But the scripture does not say how many.  There were probably more, or at least they were with an entourage of scores or hundreds, for it would not be safe to travel thousands of miles over desert wastes that were infested with bandits.”

The distance from Persia to Jerusalem was around 1000 miles.  A journey that long would have taken almost twelve months, and doesn’t take into account the prep time.  It was possible that almost two years passed between the birth of Jesus at the end of Matthew 1 and the arrival of the Magi at the beginning of chapter 2.  Look at what Matthew says:

Ø      Herod orders the executions of all males in Bethlehem who were “two years old and under.” (Matthew 2:16)

Ø      Jesus and his family had moved from a cave or stable with a manger (Luke 2:7) to a house (Matthew 2:11)

Ø      Again in Matthew 2:11 he describes Jesus as a child not as a baby.

Ask any kids in Sunday school the mode of transportation used by the Magi as they journeyed from afar to bring their gifts to Jesus and without hesitation they will answer, “They came on camels.”  But Matthew never mentions how the wise men traveled.     

They brought gold, the gift for a king; frankincense, the gift for a priest; and myrrh—a burial ointment, a gift for one who would die. 

The Magi were not Jewish.  So why would they make plans, travel such great distances, be away from whatever life they had just to find “The one who was born king of the Jews.” 

All this because they saw his star in the east and came to worship him.  They were seekers.  They were like us.  Seekers.  We too seek the truth.  We travel together constantly searching, looking for God.  And during our travels, we have experienced loss.  We’ve also experienced blessing.  And we’ll continue to experience the loss and the blessing.  We get to experience another year together, seeking.  Seeking for truth.  Seeking God.  Like the magi, we don’t know exactly where we’re going.  And we have no idea what the blessings will be. 

I want to tell you a story about another seeker.

This excerpt is from the 1902 edition of the classic tale by Henry van Dyke “The Story of the Other Wise Man.”  Artaban, the Median, sees the Star in the East and wants to follow the Magi to bring a gift to the King. He sells his home and all his belongings to purchase three jewels: a sapphire, a ruby, and a pearl. Van Dyke wrote in the preface to his work: "And now that [Artaban's] story is told, what does it mean? How can I tell? What does life mean? If the meaning could be put into a sentence there would be no need of telling the story. "

Artaban joined with a group of people from his own country, and asked of them the cause of the disturbance, and where they were going. 

"We are going to the place called Golgotha, outside the city walls, where there is to be an execution. Have you not heard what has happened?  Two famous robbers are to be crucified, and with them another, called Jesus of Nazareth, a man who has done many wonderful works among the people, so that they love him greatly.  But the priests and elders have said that he must die, because he gave himself out to be the Son of God.  And Pilate has sent him to the cross because he said that he was the 'King of the Jews."'

“King of the Jews,” How strangely these familiar words fell upon Artaban’s tired heart!  They had led him for a lifetime over land and sea.  And now they came to him darkly and mysteriously like a message of despair.  The King had arisen, but He had been denied and cast out.  He was about to perish, or perhaps already dying.  Could it be the same who had been born in Bethlehem three and thirty years ago, at whose birth the star had appeared in heaven, and of whose coming the prophets had spoken?  Artaban's heart beat unsteadily with that troubled, doubtful apprehension which is the excitement of old age.  But he said within himself: "The ways of God are stranger than the thoughts of men, and it may be that I shall find the King, at last, in the hands of His enemies, and shall come in time to offer my pearl for His ransom before He dies." 

So the old man followed the multitude towards the Damascus gate of the city.  Just beyond the entrance of the guardhouse a troop of soldiers came down the street, dragging a young girl with torn dress and disheveled hair.  As the Artaban paused to look at her with compassion, she broke suddenly from the hands of her tormentors, and threw herself at his feet, clasping him around the knees.  She had seen his white cap and the winged circle on his breast.  She cried, "Have pity on me and save me, for the sake of the God of Purity!  I also am a daughter of the true religion, which is taught by the Magi. My father was a merchant of Parthia, but he is dead, and I am seized for his debts to be sold as a slave.  Save me from worse than death!" 

Artaban trembled. It was the old conflict in his soul, which had first come to him in the palm grove by the waters of Babylon with the old Hebrew he found lying by the side of the road.  He had labored hour after hour, as only a skilled healer can do, to bring life back to the old man.  Because of this he missed meeting the other Magi that were looking for the “King of the Jews.”  The parchment at the meeting place read,

“We have waited past midnight, can wait no longer.  We go to find the king.  Follow us across the desert.” 

Artaban had to turn back to Babylon and sell one of the three jewels, his gift to the king, to buy more provisions to cross the desert.  The conflict came again in the cottage at Bethlehem where he gave the second jewel to the captain of the guard who had orders from Herod to kill all the male children in Bethlehem.  As the woman crouched in the darkest corner of her house with her baby son, Artaban stood in the doorway and said to the captain, “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.” 

It was the conflict between the expectation of faith and the impulse of love.  Twice the gift that 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, and the final and irrevocable choice.  Was it his great opportunity, or his last temptation?  He could not tell. One thing only was clear in the darkness of his mind - it was inevitable.  And does not the inevitable come from God?

One thing was sure to his divided heart - to rescue this helpless girl would be a true deed of love.  And is not love the light of the soul?  He took the pearl from his robe.  Never had it seemed so luminous, so radiant, and so full of tender living luster.  He laid it in the hand of the slave and said, 

"This is thy ransom, daughter!  It is the last of my treasures which I kept for the King." 

While he spoke, the darkness of the sky thickened, and shuddering tremors ran through the earth, heaving convulsively like the breast of one who struggles with mighty grief.  The walls of the houses rocked to and fro.  Stones were loosened and crashed into the street. Dust clouds filled the air.  The soldiers fled in terror, reeling like drunken men.  But Artaban and the girl whom he had ransomed crouched helpless beneath the wall of the Praetorium.  What had he to fear?  What had he to live for?  He had given away the last remnant of his tribute for the King.  He had parted with the last hope of finding Him.  The quest was over, and it had failed.  But, even in that thought, accepted and embraced, there was peace.  It was not resignation or submission.  It was something more profound and searching.  He knew that all was well; because he had done the best that he could, from day to day.  He had been true to the light that had been given to him.  He had looked for more.  And if he had not found it, if a failure was all that came out of his life, doubtless that was the best that was possible.  He had not seen the revelation of "life everlasting, incorruptible and immortal" but he knew that even if he could live his earthly life over again, it could not be different than it had been.

One more lingering pulsation of the earthquake quivered through the ground.  A heavy tile, shaken from the roof, fell and struck the old man on the temple.  He lay breathless and pale, with his gray head resting on the young girl's shoulder, and the blood trickling from the wound.  As she bent over him, fearing that he was dead, there came a voice through the twilight, a very small and still voice, like music sounding from a distance, in which the notes are clear but the words are lost.  The girl turned to see if some one had spoken from the window above them, but she saw no one.

Then the old man's lips began to move, as if in answer, and she heard him say:

"Not so, my Lord! For when did I see you hungry and feed you? Or thirsty, and give you drink? When did I see you a stranger, and take you in? Or naked, and clothed you? When did I see you sick or in prison, and come to you? Three, and, thirty years have I looked for you; but I have never seen your face, nor ministered to my King.” 

He stopped, and the sweet voice came again.  And again the girl heard it, very faintly and far away.  But now it seemed as though she understood the words:

"I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these my sisters and brothers, you did for me.”

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.

Which magi gave the greater gift?  How are gifts given to a child king comparable to gifts intended for a king but used to save a man left by the side of the road, save a baby about to be murdered, and to save a girl sold into slavery?  Maybe they can’t be compared.  Was Jesus cheated out of the gift?  In the story of the Other Wise Man, Jesus and his Father God don’t seem to think so.  Each of Artaban’s gifts to the three in dire need was a gift for Jesus. 

What is God asking of us?  What is God asking of you – the Other Magi? 

Let us, like Artaban, be true to the light that is given us. 

Let us, like Artaban, be able to say that all is well; because we have done the best that we could, from day to day.