RECOGNIZING THE SACRED AMONG US
SIRACH 3:2-6, 12-14; COLOSSIANS 3:12-17; LUKE 2:22-40
Today, with our Solemnity of the Holy Family, we’re sort of caught in the middle, aren’t we? Stuck somewhere in the midst of the First Day of Christmas and the Twelfth Day of Christmas – between the Feast of the Nativity and the Feast of the Epiphany. Our trees are still lit, our houses are still decorated. There are still cookies left to devour, and our gifts are still in neat or not-so-neat piles in close proximity to the Christmas tree before they find their ultimate destination in closets, drawers and toy chests. And hopefully too, the great stories that warm our hearts at this time of the year have not been placed back on the bookshelf to gather dust until next year’s reading. This morning, as has been my custom the past couple of years at Christmas, I’d like to use my time in the pulpit to tell you a story, one that perhaps you’re not familiar with. Today’s story you might think is more appropriate for next Sunday’s Feast of the Epiphany, but I think it applies just as much to today’s Gospel. It’s the story of the Fourth Wise Man.
Once, in the days when Augustus Caesar was master of many kingdoms and Herod reigned in Jerusalem, there lived a faithful member of the Magi from Persia named Artaban. Like his fellow Magi, Artaban believed that the highest of all learning is the knowledge of the stars. To trace their course is to untangle the threads of the mystery of life from beginning to end. And if we could follow them perfectly, nothing would be hidden from us.
Artaban had observed a new and great star rising. He studied the ancient writings and believed that the new star was a sign of the birth of a new king, one who would govern the world as one family. And with three of his fellow Magi, Caspar, Melchior, and Balthasar, he decides to search for the Promised One. Artaban sells all of his possessions and buys three precious jewels -- a sapphire, a ruby and, the most precious of all, a pearl, to present as tribute to the king.
Accompanied by his servant, Orontes, Artaban begins his journey through the desert. But as he neared the place where he had arranged to meet Caspar, Melchior, and Balthasar, he comes upon a dying man. Because the Magi are physicians as well as astrologers, he stops and, for hour after hour, labors until the man is restored to health. Artaban tells the man that he will leave him bread and wine, and a mixture of healing herbs, but that he must leave to continue his quest to Jerusalem to find the one who is to be born King of the Jews, the great Prince and Deliverer of all. Clutching Artaban’s hand, the old man blesses Artaban, and tells him, “I have nothing to give you in return for what you have done for me – only this; that I can tell you where the Messiah must be sought. For our prophets have said that he should be born, not in Jerusalem, but in Bethlehem of Judah.”
And so pressing on, Artaban discovers that his friends have gone on without him. He sells his sapphire to buy a caravan of camels and provision to continue his journey alone. He arrives in Bethlehem just as King Herod’s soldiers are killing the baby boys of Bethlehem. Guarding the doorway of a home where he has discovered a young mother and her baby son hiding, Artaban offers a soldier the ruby as incentive for the soldier to leave them in peace. From the mother, he learns that Caspar, Melchior, and Balthasar have already left Bethlehem, as has the child to whom they paid homage and offered their gifts. The child and his parents have fled to find safety in Egypt. And so, Artaban once again embarks upon his quest for his king. He goes to Egypt, and searches tirelessly for him, only to discover that once again, he is a step behind. The child has returned to Israel
The Fourth Wise Man continues his travels from place to place, and in his search he sees hunger and famine, plague stricken cities, the imprisoned and the enslaved. In all the morass of humanity, he found none to worship – but many to help. He feeds the hungry, and clothes the naked, heals the sick and comforts the captive. And although the years of his life pass like the cascading sands in an hour glass, he never abandons the quest for his king.
Thirty-three years of his life pass away, and Artaban is still a pilgrim, still a seeker of light. His hair was now white as the wintry snow. Worn and weary and ready to die, he comes for the last time to Jerusalem. There was great commotion in the city. Everyone was talking about a great prophet named Jesus who had been arrested and was going to be crucified. It was said that God was working through this prophet and that God was in him. He made the lame walk, lepers clean, the deaf hear, the blind recover their sight, the dead rise to life, and the poor, have had good news proclaimed to them. And Artaban realizes that this prophet, Jesus, is the king he had spent so many years searching for.
So Artaban hurries to the place where Jesus is to be crucified. Perhaps his pearl, the last of his precious jewels, can be used to ransom the life of the King. But as Araban moves through the streets of Jerusalem toward Mount Calvary, he sees a girl fleeing from a band of soldiers. “My father is in debt,” she cries out. “And they are taking me to sell as a slave to pay his debt. Save me!” Artaban hesitates; then sadly takes out his pearl, and gives it to the soldiers to buy the girl’s freedom.
Artaban looks up toward the end of the street where he sees a hill on which stand three crosses. He hears a voice cry out, “Father, it is finished. Into your hands I commend my spirit.” Suddenly, the skies were dark, the wind blew, and the earth shook. Artaban knew that his quest was over, and he had failed. He would not find the King. And he fell to the ground, clutching his heart.
Three days later, his servant, Orontes, comes to bring him home to Persia. As they pass the tomb where Jesus had been buried, Artaban closes his eyes and calls for his servant to get him some water. And when he opens them again, he sees a hand offering him a cup of water. He looks up, and his eyes widen and he exclaims, “Lord, it is you! You’re alive! Oh Master, I have long sought you. Forgive me. Once I had precious gifts to give. Now I have nothing.” Jesus smiles, and looks at Artaban with love. “Artaban, you’ve already given your gifts to me.” Confused, Artaban replies, “I don’t understand, my God.” “When I was hungry you gave me to eat, when I was thirsty you gave me to drink. When I was naked you clothed me. When I was homeless, you took me in.” Artaban, confused, responded, “Ah, not so, my Savior. I never saw you hungry, nor thirsty. I never clothed you. I never brought you into my home. I’ve never seen you until now.” But the Risen Savior replied, “Whenever you did these things for the least of my brothers, you did them for me.” A long breath of relief exhaled gently from Artaban's lips. His journey was ended. His treasures were accepted. The Fourth Wise Man had found the King.
Today it might seem like we’re simply stuck somewhere in the middle between Christmas and Epiphany. The shepherds have returned to the fields and the Wise Men have yet to arrive. And maybe to us the three feasts of Christmas, the Holy Family, and the Epiphany seem somewhat disjointed. But I think there’s a strong and significant connection between what we heard on Thursday, what we heard in our Gospel today, what we will hear next week, and in the story of the Fourth Wise Man. And that is: recognizing the sacred among us.
Let’s face it, very few of us will be as blessed as Mary and be visited by an angel. Perhaps none of us will ever be privileged in this life to peer into the face of Jesus, as did St. Catherine of Siena and St. Faustina. If we’re waiting for that sort of encounter with the Divine in our lives, we’re probably going to be disappointed. But maybe the lesson of the liturgies during the Christmas season is that instead of looking up, we need to look around. We need to become aware of the sacred in the ordinary. That’s what the shepherds did, who were innocent enough to hear the song of angels in the whisper of the wind. That’s what the Wise Men did, who were wise enough to see God’s beckoning in the brilliance of a star. That’s what Simeon did, who was so attuned to the will of God, that he heard His voice in the cry of a child.
Are we as dedicated as Artaban to make our whole life a quest to find our Lord? Have we forgotten the oracles of Isaiah the prophet? Have we forgotten the words of the angel to both Mary and Joseph? Have we so quickly forgetten the refrain we sang over and over in the season of Advent? This child whose birth we celebrate is EMMANUEL – “GOD WITH US!” Here. Now. Forever. And so, this wonderful, blessed, miraculous season challenges us to discover the places, the people, the circumstances, and the events in which GOD IS WITH US...right here . . . right now . . . forever.
And where do we begin our search? Maybe today’s feast is meant to tell us that a good starting point is in our homes. Perhaps today’s feast challenges us to recognize Him in the wisdom and experience voiced in the stories we’ve heard countless times by the senior members of our families. Perhaps in the advice, patience and understanding of our spouses. Perhaps in the unconditional love, support and forgiveness of our parents. Perhaps in the spontaneous affection and simple, unexpected, random acts of kindness of our children. And then, moving outside of our homes, maybe it’s in the ear of a neighbor to listen. The shoulder of friend to cry on. The out of the blue smile of a stranger. The voice of affirmation of a boss, a co-worker, a teacher, a coach when we really need to hear it. Or maybe He is in the elderly, the spouse, the parent, the child, the neighbor, the friend, the stranger, the boss, the co-worker, the teacher, the coach who need OUR wisdom, experience, patience, understanding, support, forgiveness, love, affection, kindness. Our ear to listen. Our shoulder to cry on. Our smile. Our voice of affirmation.
Artaban searched his whole life for the king that was always there in his midst, but he never recognized him. Today, let’s go home and let’s look under the tree to see if there is one gift still there unwrapped and unopened: Christmas eyes that enable us to see the sacred within our midst. To see Emmanuel – God with us.
