“The Other Wise Man” (FN: MATT 2 16-18.2013) Scripture: Mathew 2:16-18 William Pender First Presbyterian Church, 12/29/13 One of the traditional readings for this Sunday after Christmas is the account in the Gospel of Matthew often called the “The Massacre of the Innocent.” It is the account of King Herod’s attempt to kill the baby Jesus because Jesus was perceived as a threat to his reign. After reading the text, I will shift over into the role of story-teller, using a story written over a hundred years ago by the Presbyterian minister, Henry Van Dyke. Van Dyke served as a minister, an English professor at Princeton University, the moderator of the Presbyterian Church, the ambassador to the Netherlands and Luxemburg, but he probably is most known to us as the author of the hymn, “Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee.” Van Dykes’ story will serve as our sermon today. I know of no better treatment of God’s response to the bewildering and troubling massacre of innocent babies than this imaginative story of Henry Van Dyke. Henry Van Dyke’s story is an act of Christian imagination about the Magi, the wise men who see the light of a star and act upon it. This story has invited Christian imagination for almost 2000 years. Consider our imaginative creations: We speak of three—we do not know if there were three—the text does not say that. We call them “kings,” though nowhere is that indicated that they are royalty. We even have names for them: Caspar, Melchior, and Balthazar. And they generally are depicted as representing all the races of humanity with Oriental, African, and Caucasian features—all of humanity coming together to worship the Christ child. Listen now to the Scripture to the concluding part of the story of the account of the Magi or the wise men who had found the baby Jesus but then left by another route rather than return to King Herod, who had given them directions. Matthew 1:16-18: 16 When Herod saw that he had been tricked by the wise men, 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 wise men. 17 Then was fulfilled what had been spoken through the prophet Jeremiah: 18 “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.” You know the story of the Three Wise Men, who came to Bethlehem following the star, to bring great treasures to the Christ-child. But do you know the story of the other wise man, who also saw the star and came seeking the Christ-child, the King of the Jews? Do you know the story of his failed search, of how his quest was denied, of his long seeking and his strange way of finding? I will tell you his tale as I heard it in fragments in the Hall of Dreams, the palace of the heart of humanity. Artaban was his name, the fourth Wiseman. He, like the other three—Caspar, Balthazzar, and Melchior —had observed the night sky and had seen the star. He, like them, made plans to seek out the King whose birth this star marked. Artaban was to join his three brethren at the ancient temple of the Seven Spheres at Borsippa in Babylonia. In his home country of Parthia, Artaban, some 40 years old, had sold his house and all his possessions. He sold everything except his horse Vasda. And with the proceeds he purchased three jewels as gifts to the new King. One was a sapphire, blue as a fragment of the night sky. The second 1 SERMON 12-29-2013 - PENDER.DOC was a ruby, redder than a ray of the sunrise. And the third was a pearl, pure as the peak of a snow- covered mountain at twilight. Artaban set out on the ten-day journey to join his friends at the Temple of the Seven Spheres. It was on the evening of the tenth day that Artaban was passing the city of Babylon and was only a three- hour ride from the Temple of the Seven Spheres. It was all he could do to keep his horse Vasda at a steady pace — both the horse and Artaban wanted to race to meet his friends. But Artaban had time. His friends would wait until midnight before leaving. Artaban approached a grove of date palms. Vasda, his horse, slackened the pace. The mare scented some difficulty or danger ahead. Artaban approached, careful and wary. Then, in the gloom, Vasda gave a snort of anxiety and dismay before a dark object in the shadow of a tree. Artaban could make out the form of a man lying across the road — humble in dress and a haggard face. Probably one of the poor Hebrew exiles that inhabited this area outside of Babylon. The man appeared dead. Then, a long faint and ghostly sigh came from the man. Artaban’s heart leaped to his throat, not with fear but with resentment at the importunity of this blind delay. What right had this man to be lying in the road and sighing? How could Artaban stay to help? What claim did this man have on him? If he delayed more than an hour, he might miss the appointed meeting with his three friends. If Artaban went on, the man would die. If he stayed, life might be restored. “God of truth and purity,” prayed Artaban, “direct me in the holy path, the way of wisdom which Thou only knowest.” Artaban dismounted from Vasda and began to tend to the sick man. He, one of the educated Magi, knew not only the stars but also the means of tending to the sick. Hours of labor led to the renewal of strength to the sick man. “Who art thou?” the sick man was finally able to ask. “Artaban, the Magian, going to Jerusalem in search of the one who is born king of the Jews, a great Prince and Deliverer of all people. I cannot delay any longer—my caravan bound for Jerusalem waits for me and may depart without me. I will leave you my bread and wine.” “A moment more, kind sir. May the God of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob bless and prosper the journey of the merciful and bring him in peace to his desired haven. Listen a moment longer. I have nothing to give you in return—only this, that I can tell you where the Messiah is to be sought. Our prophets have said that he will not be born in Jerusalem but in Bethlehem of Judah. May the Lord bring you safely to that place because you have had pity on the sick.” Artaban mounted Vasda and they flew like the wind through the dark, though already it was past midnight. Artaban and Vasda reached the Temple of the Seven Spheres as the first rays of light broke through the gloom of night. The place was empty. Only a pile of rocks with a note attached. It read: “We have waited past midnight and can delay no longer. We go to find the king. Follow us across the desert.” Follow them across the desert? He, Artaban, who had no food, who had a spent horse? He must return to the city of Babylon and form another caravan to cross the desert. He could not catch his friends now. Caravans take time to form and are expensive. Artaban thought: “I must sell my sapphire to fit out a caravan, but at least I will still have two treasures to give to the new King.” 2 SERMON 12-29-2013 - PENDER.DOC Artaban returned to Babylon and completed his plans. His caravan, days behind his friends, pushed on across the desert, down through Damascus, past Mount Hermon, by the Golan Heights, by the Sea of Galilee, down the Jordan valley past Jericho into the high country of Judah. He would go directly to Bethlehem and perhaps meet up with his friends there. Artaban came three days after his friends had arrived. Several people on the outside of town verified that three strangers—odd foreigners—had come to Bethlehem recently. Artaban, the other wise man, was filled with hope. But the little town of Bethlehem was oddly quiet as he entered. The streets were deserted. There was a stillness in the air. Through an open door, Artaban heard a woman singing to a baby. He struck up a conversation with her. As they talked the baby reached for his beard. His heart warmed to the touch. He found out that yes, indeed, his friends had been to Bethlehem. But they had left quietly by a different way than they had come, as if they wanted to avoid going to Jerusalem. And the family that they had visited, a man named Joseph and woman named Mary had also left — left with their baby. The word was that they were going to Egypt. As they talked and the baby continued to coo and giggle at Artaban, he thought: “Might not this child have been the promised Prince? Kings have been born in lowly places before. But the God of wisdom has not seen fit to reward my search so easily.” From the street, there came the noise of wild confusion. “The soldiers! The soldiers of Herod!” came the cry.