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United Church of Paducah
4600 Buckner Lane
Paducah, KY 42001
(270) 442-3722
Worship Times
Sunday Service: 10:00a
Refreshments &
Fellowship: 11:15a
Christian Education
For All Ages:
11:20a - Noon
Nursery Services Provided Handicap Accessible
All Are Welcome!
A Congregation Of The
"Never place a period where God has placed a comma." - Gracie
Allen
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From January 6, 2008
The Fourth Wise Man (An Epiphany
Story)
Matthew 1: 1-12
In the days when Augustus Caesar ruled the
Roman Empire and King Herod reigned in Jerusalem, there
lived among the mountains of Persia, in the city of
Ecbatana, a man named Artaban. Like his three
friends--Caspar, Melchior, and Balthazar--Artaban was a
devout follower of the faith of Zoroaster and excelled in
the highest form of learning: knowledge of the stars.
One night Artaban and his friends were scanning the sky when
they spotted a new star shining more brightly than any they
had ever seen. From their life-long studies, the men knew
that this star signified the birth of someone most rare.
Because of this, they felt compelled to follow it together.
The four agreed to rendezvous at the Temple of the Seven
Spheres in Babylon. From there they would set out by
caravan, following the star to pay homage to the child born,
according to their calculations, in the homeland of the
Jews.
Artaban quickly arranged his affairs. He sold his house and
promptly bought three jewels--a sapphire, a ruby, and a
pearl. These he would carry as a tribute to the newborn
child.
After saddling his horse, Vasda, Artaban raced westward. He
had to reach the Temple of the Seven Spheres on the
appointed night, and the journey before him was grueling.
After ten days and nights, Artaban finally caught sight of
the great walls of Babylon. At last! In three hours' time he
would be at the Temple of the Seven Spheres.
As he galloped past an olive grove outside the city walls,
Artaban's horse stopped abruptly before a dark object lying
the in the shadows. Artaban dismounted. In the dim
starlight, he could see the figure of a man lying across the
road. He bent down and touched the man's head. The man gave
a ghostly sigh and clutched at Artaban's robe with long,
bony fingers.
The man needed help, Artaban knew, but how could he
stop--tonight of all nights? "God of truth and purity,"
Artaban prayed, "direct me in the holy path and your way of
wisdom."
Then Artaban fetched water and mixed in several pinches of
rare herbs he kept in a small leather pouch. Hour after hour
he poured this healing elixir, a little at a time, into the
man's parched mouth. "Why are you helping me?" the man asked
as his strength began to return. "Why have you brought back
my life?"
"I am Artaban, of Ecbatana, in search of one who is to be
born King of the Jews. I dare not stay with you any longer,
for my friends are waiting and will surely depart without
me. Take this bread and wine, and my pouch of healing
herbs."
The sick man raised his trembling hand to heaven. "May the
God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob bless you and bring you
peace! But take heed: The Messiah will be born in Bethlehem
of Judea. May the Lord bring you in safety to that place,
because you have had pity on me, one so unlike yourself, and
have saved my life."
It was now near dawn. Artaban rode on quickly but when he
reached the Temple of the Seven Spheres, he could find no
trace of his friends.
Artaban stared out across the vast desert. "How can I reach
Judea alone," he asked himself, "with no food and a horse in
need of rest. I must stay here until I can find a buyer for
my sapphire; then I will be able to acquire camels and food
for my journey. I may never catch up with my friends. Only
God knows whether I shall miss the King of Kings because a
dying man needed my help."
It took weeks to find a buyer but at last Artaban sold his
glittering sapphire and his beloved horse Vasda in exchange
for a caravan of camels. Then he set out across the dreary
desert.
More demanding travel Artaban had never known. By day, a
fierce heat blistered everything it touched. By night,
barking jackals prowled in the distance while an icy chill
fell over the dunes. But Artaban pressed on, faithfully
following the bright new star until, as the sick man had
told him, it shone above the village of Bethlehem, in the
land of Judea.
Artaban drew near the village, full of hope. Now at last he
could offer his pearl and ruby to the King! But the streets
were oddly deserted. Then, from the open door of a stone
cottage, he heard the music of a woman's sweet voice. He
entered and found a young mother singing her baby to sleep.
Yes, the woman told him, three strangers from the East had
appeared days earlier. They had said that a star guided them
to the place Joseph of Nazareth was lodging with his wife
and her newborn son. The three had knelt down before the
child and had given him many extravagant gifts.
"But," she went on, "the travelers did not stay, and
villagers say the man from Nazareth fled to safeguard his
family. Now there seems to be a spell over the village.
People even say that Roman soldiers are coming to enforce a
new tax--and the men have driven our animals high up into
the hills to escape it."
Suddenly there came a wild confusion in the streets, a
shrieking and wailing of women's voices, a clashing of
swords, and a desperate warning: "The soldiers! The soldiers
of Herod! They are killing our children!"
The young woman's face went white with terror. She crouched
in the darkest corner and clutched her baby, hiding him in
the folds of her shawl. Artaban strode over to the doorway,
blocking it with his body. When the soldiers reached the
cottage, Artaban summoned their
captain, and said: "I am alone here; take this jewel as a
sign of my gratitude for leaving me in peace." Then he
opened his palm to reveal the ruby, glistening like a great
drop of blood.
The captain's eyes widened with greed and he grabbed the
jewel. "March on!" he cried. As the soldiers left, Artaban
quietly prayed: "God of truth, forgive my lie! I have said
the thing that is not, to save the life of a child. And now
two of my gifts are gone. Shall I ever see the King of
Kings?"
From the shadows behind him came the woman's voice, saying:
"Because you have saved my little one at your own risk, the
Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord let His face shine
upon you and be gracious unto you; the Lord give you peace,
now and always."
Having been blessed, Artaban left to resume his search for
the baby from Bethlehem.
But by now the star had vanished from the night sky and he
soon exhausted himself trying to find the holy child. As
Artaban rested late one afternoon on the steps of a
synagogue, a seasoned rabbi took note of his low spirits and
upon hearing the story of his quest, offered advice.
"My son," said the rabbi, "our scriptures foretold that the
King of Kings would be despised and rejected by men. He will
not be found in a palace, nor among the rich and powerful.
If you seek him, you must look among the poor, the lowly,
the sorrowful and the sick."
Years passed and Artaban searched in the poorest places for
the family from Bethlehem.
He passed through towns where people were crying out in
hunger; he passed through cities where they were dying of
plague. And although he found no King of Kings to worship,
he did find many people in need of his help. Wherever
Artaban went, he fed the hungry and clothed the naked; he
healed the sick and visited those in prison; and his years
went by swiftly.
Many years, more than three decades, had passed since
Artaban had first seen the star and had set out on his
journey. Now, worn and weary, he traveled to Jerusalem to
make one final search. If and when he met the King of Kings,
he would present him with the beautiful pearl he had
purchased so long ago
Artaban arrived during the season of the Passover, and the
city was overflowing with pilgrims who had come for the
feast. But there was a strange sense of foreboding in the
air. All around him, sandals clattered and thousands of bare
feet shuffled over the stones as the crowds were swept along
to the Damascus gate.
"What is happening?" asked Artaban.
"Haven't you heard?" replied a young man. "There is going to
be a crucifixion. Two robbers are to be put to death, and
another man, one called Jesus of Nazareth. He has said and
done many wonderful things, and everyone loves him greatly.
But because he dared to call himself the Son of God and
because the Romans fear he will lead a revolt, the powerful
have sentenced him to death."
Artaban knew that this must be the King of Kings for whom he
had been searching all these years. His heart pounded and
his mind raced. Perhaps if he offered his pearl to the Roman
governor, Pontius Pilate, he might save the man's life!
He hurried toward the Damascus gate. But just beyond the
entrance to the guardhouse a troop of soldiers came down the
street dragging a young girl by her hair. As Artaban paused
to look at her, she broke away from her captors and threw
herself at his feet.
"Have pity on me!" she cried. "Save me! My father was a
follower of Zoroaster, and I see from the way you are
dressed that you are of the same faith. My father is dead,
and I am to be sold as a slave to pay his debts. Help me,
please!"
Artaban looked on the girl and trembled. For a third time he
had to choose between keeping his jewel as a gift for the
King of Kings or surrendering it to save a fellow human
being.
Artaban took his priceless pearl from its pouch and placed
it in the girl's hand: "Here is your ransom, daughter! It is
the last of the treasures I was keeping for the King of
Kings, who is now to be crucified."
As he spoke, the sky grew black and tremors ran through the
street, which heaved like someone in pain. Houses rocked;
stones fell and crashed into the street. Dust clouds filled
the air. The soldiers fled in terror, reeling like drunken
men, and Artaban and the girl took refuge beside the wall of
the guardhouse.
The earth gave one final shudder, and a heavy tile from the
roof fell and struck Artaban. As the girl bent over him,
fearing he was dead, there came a voice through the
darkness, very small and still, like music sounding from a
distance.
The voice said: "Peace be with you Artaban. When I was
hungry, you gave me food. When I was naked, you clothed me.
When I was in distress, you comforted me. As often as you
did these things for the least of my children, you did them
for me."
A calm radiance lit up Artaban's face, and a long, last sign
of relief left his lips. His journey was ended. At last he
had found his King. Amen.
© Rev. Karen Winkel
United Church of Paducah (UCC) (Based on the
short story by Henry Van Dyke, retold by Susan Summers, and
adapted by Rev. Karen Winkel.) |
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Please join us for a special viewing of
Promises
on September 7th
at 12 noon.
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