Rev. Martha Koenig Stone Isaiah 60:1-6
Henrietta United Church of Christ
Psalm 72:1-7, 10-14
Second Sunday after Christmas – January 4, 2009 Ephesians 3:1-12
Four Wise
Men, Two Messiahs and Santa Claus Matthew
2:1-12
This week begins the season of Epiphany, a name that comes
from Greek and means “to show” or “to manifest.” It’s a season that celebrates the
manifestation of God in the person of Jesus Christ. It starts on the twelfth day of Christmas, when
tradition tells us that the Wise Men came to visit the Christ Child. The arrival of these Kings from the East is a
kind of culmination of the Christmas story:
their visit confirms his identity as the long-awaited Messiah and signals
God’s reign of peace for all peoples.
God’s presence is shown to everyone in the baby Jesus.
But then what? Christ has come, and we have celebrated and rejoiced, but the earth is still full of war and greed and injustice and suffering. We are still searching for Jesus, aren’t we? We are still seeking the manifestation of God on earth, still wondering about the identity of the Messiah and what it all means for us. We are still working out our own role as children of God.
This morning I have three stories to share with you that I
hope will help us to ponder these questions of identity and meaning and
purpose, and to think about how and when and where God is made known among us.
The first story comes from a little book I picked up at the home of my children’s piano teacher, called The Story of the Other Wise Man (1). It’s an imaginary story about a man named Artaban, who comes from the eastern mountains of Persia—modern-day Iran. He is a Parthian noble and a member of the priesthood of the Magi, a healer, and a studier of the stars, a follower of the poet and philosopher Zoroaster. Zoroastrians are sometimes called “fire worshipers,” but Artaban is clear that it is not the first they worship; it is the Spirit that creates the light. In his studies of ancient writings, Artaban has learned that a King of Light and Truth is to be born of the Jews, and is to be a great prince and deliverer of all people. Through his study of the stars, Artaban has figured the exact time and place where this King is to be born, and he has decided to seek the King and bring him gifts. Artaban has sold all his possessions in return for three great gems to give to the King: a sapphire, a ruby and a pearl.
Now Artaban’s closest friends think his quest is foolish. But he knows of three other Magi who are planning to go as well, and they have promised to meet him at the Temple of the Seven Spheres and travel with him across the desert to Judea. But he must hurry, because the temple is ten days ride away, just beyond the city of Babylon. So Artaban bids farewell to his friends, and begins his ride toward the temple.
After days and days of riding, Artaban is within a few hours of his destination when his horse slows down and hesitates near a grove of palm trees. In the shadows, Artaban looks, and sees a man lying across the road. His humble dress suggests that he is one of the Hebrews who still lives near the city of Babylon, and his pale face shows that he has taken ill from a fever. Artaban stoops to touch the man’s hand, and finds it is already as cold as death. But as he turns to go, the man lets out a faint sigh and grasps the hem of Artaban’s cloak.
What should he do? If he pauses to help this man, he will surely miss his appointment at the temple. But if he goes, the man will surely die. Should he risk the chance to meet the King? Artaban decides to stop. He brings the man water from one of the nearby canals, and offers some healing herbs from his pocket, and labors over him for several hours until the his strength begins to return. Then he continues on toward the temple.
But he is too late. It is long past midnight, and the other three Magi are gone. They’ve left him a papyrus note that says, “We can delay no longer. We go to find the King. Follow us across the desert.” Artaban sinks in despair. There is no way he can cross the desert with no food and an exhausted horse. He has to return to Babylon, sell his sapphire, and buy a train of camels and some provisions. He fears he will be too late to see the King.
Still, he travels on, and in several days time, he reaches the town of Bethlehem, just three days behind the others. Wandering through the streets of the village, he looks for someone to ask about the visit of the three Magi. But the town is deserted. Then he hears the voice of a woman singing softly. He enters the open door a cottage and finds a mother trying to quiet her baby. Yes, she had seen the men, but the family they visited has already fled to Egypt, to escape the Roman soldiers who have been killing the children of the town. The woman explains that she fears for her own child as well, but has nowhere else to go.
Suddenly they hear noise and confusion in the village. The soldiers have arrived! The woman shrinks into the corner of the cottage, and Artaban stands at the door. When captain of the guard comes to push him aside, he stands his ground and says in a calm voice, “I’m all alone here, and I am waiting to give this ruby to the captain who leaves me in peace,” and takes the ruby out of his pocket. The soldiers leave and Artaban turns to go, praying that God might forgive his lie, and wondering once again if he will ever see the King.
That’s how his whole life goes on. As he seeks the child, it seems he is always just one step behind. But along the way there are people to meet and needs to fill, and Artaban is kind and generous. Thirty-three years later, he is still a seeker of light and truth, but his hair is white and his eyes are dull with age. One last time, he comes to Jerusalem to look for a trace of the family he had missed in Bethlehem. It is the time of the Passover festival, and the city is bustling. Artaban hears whisperings about a man who is to be executed—someone the governor calls the King of the Jews. Ah, those familiar words! Would Artaban finally be able to meet the King?
Then he sees a band of Macedonian soldiers dragging a young woman down the street. “Have pity on me!” she cries out to him. “I am to be sold as a slave to pay off my father’s debts!” Once again, Artaban feels he has no choice. He pulls the pearl from the folds of his garment, and ransoms the girl from her captors, using the last of the treasures he had saved for the King.
Then the earth begins to shake, and a tile from a nearby building strikes Artaban’s head, and he sinks into the arms of the girl. As he lies dying, the girl hears a soft voice, but she looks around and sees no one. Then Artaban speaks: “But when did I see you hungry and feed you? Or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did I see you a stranger and take you in? Or naked, and give you clothing? When did I see you in prison and come to visit you?” Again the girl hears a voice, and now it is clearer: “Inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you have done it to me.” Artaban’s face becomes calm and full of joy, and he lets out a long breath of relief. His journey has ended. The other Wise Man has found the King! God has been made manifest in his works of compassion and his search for truth.
The second story is
about two Americans who were invited in 1994 by the Russian Department of
Education to teach morals and ethics, in their prisons, at their businesses, in
their fire & police departments and other institutions (2). The Americans were told they could teach from
the perspective of their faith. So they
went, and tried to share their Christian outlook with people in that essentially
atheistic society.
I’m sure they had many interesting experiences along the
way. But they were especially touched by
an experience with some children who had been abandoned, abused and left in the
care of a government-run orphanage. When the holiday season approached, the
American teachers decided to tell the Christmas story. For the first time, these Russian children heard
about Mary and Joseph arriving in Bethlehem, taking shelter with animals,
giving birth to Jesus, and placing him in a manger. Throughout the story, the children and
orphanage staff sat in amazement as they listened.
When the story was done, the teachers gave the children three small pieces of
cardboard to make a crude manger. Then each
child was given a small paper square, cut from yellow napkins the teachers had brought
with them, to tear up and lay in the manger like pieces of straw. Small squares of flannel, cut from a worn-out
nightgown were used for the baby's blanket. And a doll-like baby was cut from some
tan felt they had brought from home.
Then one of the teachers saw a little boy named Misha, about 6 years
old, who had finished his project. Misha had put not one, but 2 babies in the
manger!
The teacher called the translator to ask the boy why there were two babies. Very seriously, the boy began to tell the story, remembering every detail. But when he got to the part about Mary putting the baby in a manger, he started to ad lib, making up his own ending to the story. It went something like this:
And when Mary laid the baby in the manger, Jesus looked at me and asked me if I had a place to stay. I told him I have no mamma and I have no papa, so I don't have any place to stay. Then Jesus told me I could stay with him. But I told him I couldn't, because I didn't have a gift to give him like everybody else did. But I wanted to stay with Jesus so much, so I thought about what I had that maybe I could use for a gift. I thought maybe if I kept him warm, that would be a good gift. So I asked Jesus, “If I keep you warm, will that be a good enough gift?” And Jesus told me, “If you keep me warm, that will be the best gift anybody ever gave me.” So I got into the manger, and then Jesus looked at me and he told me I could stay with him – for always.
For that teacher, Christ shone brightly in the simple
faith of a little child.
The third story
was told to me by a friend in a Bible study group (3) who said he had met the
real Santa Claus! Now, I confess that
I’ve never been big on Santa Claus. As
children growing up, we learned about Saint Nicholas, a bishop in Turkey who left
gifts of food and clothing on the doorsteps of the poor, but we didn’t expect
any reindeer or sleighs on Christmas Eve. We knew that the gifts under our tree
came from our friends and family. So
when my friend said he had met the real Santa Claus, I sort of chuckled, but I
didn’t expect to learn much from the story.
Still, I listened as Peter told me about his days as a
student. He had been traveling in
California, but was now on his way home for the Christmas holidays. As he sat in a bus station waiting to board a
bus home, a disheveled-looking woman came and sat down nearby. Being a friendly sort of person, and having
nothing else to do, he struck up a conversation with her. She was waiting for her husband, she said,
but he got the feeling that she had been waiting for a long time, and that her
husband wasn’t going to show up any time soon, if ever.
Then after a while, a man with a long white beard and a
ratty coat walked toward them. “I’m
Santa Claus,” he said to Peter. “What do
you want for Christmas?” Trying to play
along, Peter said he didn’t really need anything, but that he hoped to be able
to make it home for Christmas. “Bah,” he
said, “You’re not taking me seriously!” and he went over to the woman and tried
again. “I’m Santa Claus. What do you want for Christmas?”
“I’m really hungry,” she said. I could use a sandwich and a cup of coffee.”
“Okay, let’s go,” said the man. As Peter watched the two of them walk away
together, he started to worry about the intentions of the man with the beard,
and he feared for the woman’s safety.
After a few minutes, though, the woman came back and sat down, and Peter
asked her if she’d gotten her Christmas present. Yes, she had gotten her sandwich and her
coffee, and she was feeling pretty good!
When Peter tells this story, he says he thinks maybe he really did meet the real Santa Claus that day. And he’s pretty sure that the encounter with these two folks in the bus station had a big impact on his call to carry out his ministry with churches in urban settings. Maybe, just maybe, Christ was present in the gifts that were given and received in that bus station.
The manger bed where Jesus was born is not the only place
where God is made manifest in the world!
When we share our wealth and our hope with people in distress, God’s saving
power is shown. When we search for light
and truth, God shines into our lives, often in unexpected ways. When we open ourselves to the gifts that
others have to offer, God touches the hearts of the givers and the receivers, and
even of those who witness the gift. As
we share the Lord’s Supper with one another, we ourselves become the sign of
God’s presence, bearers of God’s light to the world. Each time we climb in with Jesus to offer
warmth and love, we participate in God’s Epiphany, and Christ is made known to
the world once again. Thanks be to
God!
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1. Henry Van Dyke, The
Story of the Other Wise Man (Brewster, MA: Paraclete Press, 1984).
2. From “Homiletics,” Dec. 15, 2002. Thanks to the Rev. Dr. Greg Osterberg, Pastor
of Mountain Rise UCC, for sharing this story in an Advent sermon.
3. Thanks to the Rev. Peter B. Carman, Pastor of Lake
Avenue Baptist Church, for sharing this story with our lectionary study group.