The Fourth Wise Man
In the mountains of ancient Persia, lived Artaban, whose
study of the planets and the stars led him to predict the birth of the King of
Kings.
He sold his house and every possession and purchased a large
sapphire blue as a fragment of the night sky, a flawless ruby redder than a ray
of sunrise, and a lustrous pearl as pure as the peak of a snow mountain at
twilight — which he intended to carry as tribute to the King. He then set out
for Jerusalem where he had arranged to meet up with three other wise men, or
Magi, to find the newborn.
After many weeks of difficult travel and frustrating delays,
one night, he saw a man lying on the road. His haggard face, pallid skin and
laboured breathing, bore the mark of the deadly fever. But, as he turned to leave,
the man begged for help.
Artaban hesitated. If he lingered to minister to a dying
stranger even for an hour, he could miss his three friends. But if he left now,
the man would surely die. He turned to the sick man and carefully attended to
him, leaving with him all that he had left of bread and wine, and his store of
healing herbs.
“I have nothing to give you in return,” said the grateful
man, “…only this: our prophets have decreed that the Messiah will be born in
Bethlehem, not in Jerusalem. May the Lord bring you in safety to that place,
because you had pity upon the sick.”
When he reached the meeting place, he received only this
message: “We can delay no longer. Follow us across the desert.” Artaban
backtracked to Babylon, sold the sapphire, and bought a train of camels, and
provisions for the journey. He arrived at Bethlehem with his remaining ruby and
pearl offerings, but it was three whole days after the three other wise men had
found Mary, Joseph and Jesus, and had laid gifts of gold, frankincense and
myrrh at the baby’s feet.
In a little cottage, he met a woman with her son, who told
him Joseph had taken his wife and child and fled secretly that very night;
Herod was slaying all male children, afraid the promised ‘King’ would claim his
throne. As she spoke, there was uproar in the streets as Herod’s soldiers
searched each home to kill any male children they found.
The terrified young mother clasped her child to her. But
Artaban rushed to the doorway and held out the ruby to the soldier, who
snatched it eagerly. “March on!” he commanded his men, “there is no child
here.”
Artaban sighed: “Now two of my gifts are gone. I have spent
for man that which was meant for God. Shall I ever be worthy to see the face of
the King?”
But the woman, weeping for joy, said gently: “Because you have saved the life of my little one, may the Lord bless you and keep you and give you peace.”
Arbatan wandered for 33 years in search of the little family
from Bethlehem. Worn and weary, ill now, and ready to die, but still looking
for the King, he had come for the last time to Jerusalem. Hearing of a great
person who was to be put to death that very day, and hearing of his life and
teachings, Artaban realised this was indeed his ‘King’, but as he made his way
to Golgotha, hoping his priceless pearl could buy the great one’s release, he
saw a troop of soldiers marching down the street, dragging a young girl in
chains. “Have pity on me; save me! I am to be sold as a slave.”
The fourth wise man knew what he must do. He took the pearl
from his bosom. Never had it seemed so luminous and radiant as it was now. He
exchanged the girl’s freedom for the pearl. His grief at not being able to see
the ‘King’ caused him to collapse, but in his half-conscious state he heard a
gentle yet compelling voice: “Verily I say unto thee, inasmuch as thou hast
done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, thou hast done it unto
me.”His journey had ended.
His treasures were accepted. The fourth Wise Man had indeed
found the King.
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