Epiphany with Artaban: Pearl of Great Price

We are coming to the end of our Epiphany journey with Artaban, the wise man whose story is told by Henry Van Dyke. Artaban missed his meeting with his fellow magi because he paused to help a dying Hebrew outsideof Babylon. Even though he went straight to Bethlehem on the advice of man he saved, he missed the Holy Family. He was able to save a child from Herod’s soldiers by bribing the captain with the ruby meant for the Prince.

He spends the rest of his life in a seemingly fruitless search for the Child, now a Man. In the final chapter of the short book, we meet him after 33 years. “Worn and weary and ready to die, but still looking for the King, he had come for the last time to Jerusalem.” He learns from someone in the crowd that they are going to Golgotha to witness the crucifixion of Jesus of Nazareth who Pilate sentenced because he claimed to be “King of the Jews.” Artaban wonders, “It may be that I shall find the King…and come in time to offer my pearl for His ransom…” Instead, he is confronted by another dilemma as a young Parthian girl pleads for him to save her from slavery.

Van Dyke asks, “Was this his great opportunity, or his last temptation…it was inevitable…does not the inevitable come from God?...and is not love the light of the soul?” He gives the final gem, the pearl, to the girl as her ransom.

As an earthquake shakes Jerusalem, Artaban and the girl huddle together. Artaban comes to the realization the “he knew all was well, because he had done the best that he could, from day to day.” A tile from the roof strikes him, and as he dies, he hears his King, “Verily I say unto thee, Inasmuch as thou hast done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, thou has done it unto me.”

In a sermon for the coming Sunday, the Rt. Rev. Frank Logue, Bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of Georgia focuses on the first part of the Gospel for Sunday (Mark 1:29-31). As soon as they left the synagogue, they entered the house of Simon and Andrew, with James and John. Now Simon’s mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, and they told him about her at once. He came and took her by the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her, and she began to serve them. 

Bishop Logue notes that it can seem off-putting that as soon as she is healed, Simon’s mother-in-law begins to ‘serve them.’ However, he points out the word translated ‘serve’ is diakonos the root of the word deacon.

Logue states, “Her service was not a one-time, over-and-done-with action…the meaning of her actions was transformed by Jesus’ healing touch. She did not serve and minister to them because of some duty. She served out of love. Simon’s mother-in-law became as much a follower of Jesus as any of his disciples…Mark describes her using language that makes her the first deacon in Christianity. She was the first person to have their ordinary diakonos, or service of others, transformed into servant ministry.”

Artaban’s life was filled with that servant ministry, that way of diakonos. Like Artaban we can only respond to the opportunity in front of us. We can respond with the Love of God, as Artaban did when he gave spent the sapphire to further his journey, used the ruby to save a child, and rescued the Parthian girl with the pearl. Throughout his quest, he cared for many in large and small ways. For that he heard Jesus say, “you have done it as to me.” His servant ministry, his diakonos is ours as well--to serve in the name of love.

Van Dyke asks, “is not love the light of the soul?” What is your response?

The film A Case for Love, mentioned last week highlighted many small ways that ordinary people are shining the light of love. In what way do you shine that light?

As we move closer to Ash Wednesday (February 14) and Lent you may want to consider what diakonos opportunity you will find in that season.

Epiphany with Artaban: For the Sake of a Little Child

 We continue our journey with Artaban, the Other Wise Man, to see what he might teach us about finding God in our times. We have trekked with him from Persia to Babylon where he stopped to help a dying man, and missed his meeting with Casper, Balthazar and Melchoir.

He sets out “over the dreary undulation of the desert, high upon the back of his camel,” according to author Henry van Dyke. He arrives at last in Bethlehem. “It was the third day after the three wise men had come to that place.” He finds the streets deserted. In one home he encounters a young mother who tells of the visit of “strangers from the Far East.” She tells him that the family was rumored to have fled to Egypt. As Artaban eats, and the baby in the house sleeps, there are screams “The soldiers! The soldiers of Herod! They are killing our children!”

Artaban stands blocking the doorway. When the captain approaches, he states, “I am all alone…waiting to give this jewel to the prudent captain who will leave me in peace.” Greedily, the captain takes the offered ruby and turns the soldiers away.

However, Artaban is devastated. He prays, “I have said a thing that is not, to save the life of a child...I have spent for man that which was meant for God. Shall I ever be worthy to see the face of the King?” He feels guilty for ‘wasting’ the gift he planned for the Messiah, even though his action saved the life of one child.

I wonder how often I think my talents and money and other gifts must be given directly to the service of God by giving them to some religious cause? Or, I may think that what I offer is too small. Might there be some use for even the smallest gift? 

We hear, “the gifts of God for the people of God,” during the Eucharist. The simple gifts of bread and wine are made holy in their use. We prefer rules, even if they build walls rather than show love. Once when the Pharisees confront Jesus because his disciples are picking grain on the Sabbath, he reminds them of David’s actions centuries before, “He entered the house of God, when Abiathar was high priest, and ate the bread of the Presence, which it is not lawful for any but the priests to eat, and he gave some to his companions.’ Then he said to them, ‘The sabbath was made for humankind, and not humankind for the sabbath; so the Son of Man is lord even of the sabbath.’ (Mark 2:23-28) God's lawas are for the good and use of humanity, not as a barrier. 

Jesus had very little patience with those who want to make their actions look holy by saying they are for God, when neglecting what God, through the prophets, like Micah, says is more important: to act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God. (Micah 6:8) In Matthew 23, Jesus confronts the Pharisees about this. He asks, You blind men! Which is greater: the gift, or the altar that makes the gift sacred?...You give a tenth of your spices—mint, dill and cumin. But you have neglected the more important matters of the law—justice, mercy and faithfulness. You should have practiced the latter, without neglecting the former…You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence.

The religious leaders of Jesus’ time were scrupulous in following the rules of Torah, sometimes at the expense of truly caring and loving. We should not be too hard on them. We do the same things when we say only the properly trained people can do some task at church or when we frown at a child being too rambunctious in church.   

Artaban used the ruby, which he had designated as a gift for the King, to save the life of a child in Bethlehem. He is afraid the action makes him unfit to find the King. He forgot that God is in and of all things, whether precious by human reckoning or worthless. The gift God most wants is a humble and contrite heart—a lesson Jonah learns in the Hebrew Scripture reading on Sunday (Jonah 3:1-5, 10). Even the people of Ninevah are forgiven when they repent because of Jonah’s preaching. No one and no thing is outside of God.  

What do I name as God’s and try to protect at all costs?

Who do I think is not good enough to serve God, or be loved by God?

Epiphany with Artaban: By the Waters of Babylon

 Last week we started our journey with Artaban, the Other Magi, based on the book by Henry van Dyke. Artaban saw a sign—a new star, that he along with Casper, Melchoir, and Balthazar determined foretold the rising of a new king in Judea. His friends in Ecbatana, Persia discount the sighting and refuse to join him.

Undeterred, Artaban sets out on his horse Vasda for his meeting with the other three. Van Dyke says, “[he] must ride wisely and well if he would keep the appointed hour with the other Magi.” Even when he passes Babylon he still has three hours to reach the “Temple of the Seven Spheres” by midnight. In the date-palm grove Vasda senses something—or someone. It is a dying man lying in the road. This stranger grasps Artaban’s robe in plea.

Thus, our Magi must decide. “How could he stay here in the darkness to minister to a dying stranger?...If he lingered but for an hour he could hardly reach Borsippa at the appointed time…he would lose his quest.” His compassion wins and he cares for the man “hour after hour” until “the man’s strength returned; he sat up and looked about him.” As Artaban prepares to leave the stranger with food and healing herbs, he is rewarded by information. The man is a Hebrew and tells him, “I can tell you where the Messiah must be sought…in Bethlehem.”

Artaban races toward the meeting with his friends, but indeed arrives too late. He finds a note saying they have departed, “Follow us across the desert.” In despair, Artaban knows he must “return to Babylon, sell my sapphire…only God the merciful knows whether I shall not lose the sight of the King because I tarried to show mercy.”   

Even though he is a Magi, a member of a learned and religious class, Artaban wonders if his actions have ruined his quest. In the Parable of the Good Samaritan, Jesus applauds the actions of the man who stopped to help a wounded stranger. After telling the story, Jesus asks, “Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?” The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.” Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.” (Luke 10:36-37)

I think it is easy to think we must follow a set series of steps and neat rules to ‘find God.’ We can forget that God is in the stranger, in the lost, in the frightened or forgotten, even in the seemingly detestable; as much as in the holiest of Cathedrals. When we begin to understand that truth, it is an epiphany of sorts. Throughout his journey, we’ll see that Artaban has many epiphanies.

Br. Jim Woodrum notes, “Epiphanies seem to be random, but they are not. They build over time until the last little bit of information is gathered, and the picture comes fully into focus. Epiphany means ‘manifestation’…I would say that our spiritual pilgrimage is about ‘response.’ We do not usually undertake a dangerous and costly journey on our own volition. Rather, it is something we are called to, a mission that has already been set in motion. The wise [men’s] journey was a response to a mission that was set in motion by God.”

Artaban’s quest is just beginning, and so is each of our faith journeys. Br. Woodrum says, we seek in “response to God who has called you out of inertia through your desire—a desire for meaning, a desire for peace, a desire for love, or simply a desire to know God as you are known by God.”

What is your desire?

How do you hope God will be manifest in your life’s Epiphany at this time?

Epiphany with Artaban: Sign in the Sky

 The Story of the Other Wise Man by Henry Van Dyke, written in 1895, is one of my favorites. I return to it nearly every year at Christmas and Epiphany. My copy is rather dog-eared--or puppy-chewed. This one was given to my grandfather by his father and I treasure it, despite the nibbled corner. 

This year, I want to explore the story in light of the world of 2024 with its unique challenges and opportunities. Here we are nearly 130 years after Van Dyke wrote his book. What might this little book teach us about walking in the footsteps of Christ, as we follow the journey of Artaban, the ‘fourth’ wise man who never made it to Bethlehem.

Van Dyke says in his preface that the story came to him as a “gift. It was sent to me; and it seemed as if I knew the Giver, though His name was not spoken.” He goes on to note, “The year had been full of sickness and sorrow. Every day brought trouble.” Perhaps you can relate to that scenario. Van Dyke tells us, “all that I had to do was to follow Artaban, step by step, as the tale went on, from the beginning to the end of the pilgrimage.” 

That’s what I invite you to—a pilgrimage through the story of this seeker, who thought he lost his way, but learned he really was always on the right path.

The book opens with a poem inspired by Matthew 16:25-27.

Who seeks for heaven alone to save his soul,
May keep the path, but will not reach the goal;
While he who walks in love my wander far,
Yet God will bring him where the blessed are.

Artaban is a member of the Magi, living in Ecbatana, Persia. This city was the capital of the Empire of the Medes (675-549 BCE) and later Parthians (247 BCE-224 CE). Excavations at modern Hamadan, Iran have established the location. The area, in the mountains 250 miles east of Babylon, has been settled for millennia. The cooler mountain weather made it popular with the rulers and elite of empires. It was located on the Silk Road from the Orient meaning it was a prosperous place.   

As a Magi, Artaban, was a priest of Zoroastrianism, a religion practiced in the area for centuries. The core of their worship was a single sacred being, Ahura Mazda. Good Thoughts, Good Words, and Good Deeds were the tenets. Water and fire were both holy in the religion.

Artaban gathers nine Magi to discuss a strange sign he has seen in the sky. He addresses them and his father, “Religion without a great hope would be like an altar without a living fire…I have read other words…from the fountain of Truth, and speak yet more clearly of the rising of the Victorious One in his brightness.” He then reminds the group of the “Hebrew Daniel…a prophet of sure things.” He goes on to say that with Caspar, Melchoir, and Bathazar he has seen a new star briefly. They calculated and determined that the “new star in the sign of the Fish, which is the house of the Hebrews” predicts the “promised one who shall be born King of the Jews.”

Artaban says he has sold all and bought three jewels, “a Sapphire, a ruby, and a pearl—to carry them as tribute to the King.” He invites his fellow Magi to join the quest, but they each have an excuse and dismiss his vision. (Echoes of Luke 14:18f) His father tells him, “It is better to follow even the shadow of the best than to remain content with the worst.”

Undeterred Artaban goes to his watch post and sees “an azure spark born out of the darkness…tiny and infinitely remote, yet perfect in every part, it pulsated…’It is the sign. The King is coming, and I will go to meet him.’”

We are entering the Season of Epiphany when we hear of Jesus and his ministry. The lessons this week are from Genesis 1 when God creates light, and the Gospel of Mark where we hear of Jesus baptism and the words, You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.

Artaban was seeking, as the Gospel of John says, the true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.

This week, I am going to ponder the words of Artaban’s father, that it “is better to follow even the shadow of the best than to remain content with the worst.”

Where in my life am I content with less than the best?

What is the shadow of a dream in my heart of the best?

Where can I meet the true light?

Epiphany-Star of Wonder

O star of wonder, star of light,
Star with royal beauty bright,
Westward leading, still proceeding,
Guide us to thy perfect light.

We all know the favorite Christmas hymn that is really for Epiphany: We Three Kings. It was written by John H. Hopkins, Jr. in 1857 for a Christmas pageant at General Theological Seminary in NYC. The refrain, to me, speaks of the attitude we all should have toward God, esp. during the season of Epiphany when we hear of the many ways God in Christ is made manifest to the world. An attitude of amazement and awe that God has come among us and is still with us!

The magi of old saw a sign in the stars and followed it to Bethlehem where they found a child who was the King of Kings. Henry van Dyke’s classic tale, The Other Wise Man, tells how Artaban and his companions realized that the time was fulfilled:

Artaban answered: "It has been shown to me and to my three companions among the Magi--Caspar, Melchior, and Balthazar. We have searched the ancient tablets of Chaldea and computed the time. It falls in this year. We have studied the sky, and in the spring of the year we saw two of the greatest planets draw near together in the sign of the Fish, which is the house of the Hebrews. We also saw a new star there, which shone for one night and then vanished. Now again the two great planets are meeting. This night is their conjunction. My three brothers are watching by the ancient Temple of the Seven Spheres, at Borsippa, in Babylonia, and I am watching here. If the star shines again, they will wait ten days for me at the temple, and then we will set out together for Jerusalem, to see and worship the promised one who shall be born King of Israel. I believe the sign will come. I have made ready for the journey. I have sold my possessions, and bought these three jewels--a sapphire, a ruby, and a pearl--to carry them as tribute to the King. And I ask you to go with me on the pilgrimage, that we may have joy together in finding the Prince who is worthy to be served."*

In Van Dyke’s story, the rest of the Magi refuse to believe Artaban and he sets out alone to join Caspar, Melchoir, and Balthazar. Along the way, he pauses to help an injured man and so misses the rendezvous. Then he spends his life seeking the Child, always a step behind, using his gifts to help others, until at the end he comes to the Cross and learns that “The Other Wise Man had found the King.”*

Many times, I find myself more like the magi who stayed behind, too concerned about the day-to-day routine to pause and see that there is a “star of wonder, star of light” leading to the wonder of God incarnate as a Babe in a manger and in the beauty of a stormy sky and in the eyes of the tired clerk at the store…

During this Epiphany season, until Ash Wednesday, on February 13, come explore with me some of the glory around us that tells of the wonder of God. From a pristine snow fall to a homeless man; from a tree starkly bare in winter to a child’s first prayer; from hymns sung by choirs to the caterwauling of a cat fight; from the scent of a new blown rose to raw gasoline; from rough waves to a tender touch; from the majesty of cathedrals to the poorest of hovels-God is present. Perhaps like Artaban, in these weeks of Epiphany we can see in each of these and more the perfect light foretold by the star of wonder. Come let us adore him.  

*The Other Wise Man, Henry Van Dyke, 1895