The Story of the
Other Wise Man
Henry van Dyke
as told (more or
less) by Dad
Introduction for my Children
“The Story
of the Other Wise Man” has been a traditional story included in the Schofield
Christmas Family Home Evening for several years. The first time I heard it though, was when my
mother told the story at church. I was a
young boy at the time, struggling in my own mind to find the true meaning of
Christmas. But, it was when I heard my
mother tell the story that I came a little closer to understand. I had not heard the story again until our
Christmas in Los Alamos when Grandpa Schofield asked me to tell the second half
of the story in the Family Home Evening.
As I read
the story in preparation for Family Home Evening I concentrated on learning the
details of the story because I did not want to have to read it. I am not sure if I got the details right or
not, but as I told the story, it came alive to me. I saw Artaban in my own mind as if I was
having the dream that Van Dyke was telling.
Ever since that time when I recount the story I remember it as though it
was my own dream. Remember, however,
that it is only a story. It is not a
true story, but the message is as truthful as eternity is long.
The Story
I
Everybody
knows the story of the three wise men, how they traveled to take their gifts
and worship the new Christ child. This
is the story of the Other Wise Man who also saw the star and spent a lifetime
following where it led.
I first met
Artaban in the Hall of Dreams, a place in the heart. I saw him in his palace near the mountains of
Persia. He stood at the gate welcoming
his friends to his home as they came one by one at his invitation to hear him
speak of something he had discovered.
After they arrived they sat around a fire that danced in the night. Once again he welcomed his nine guests who
were all dressed in traditional clothing of nobles.
“I have
asked you to come this evening to invite you to come on a journey with me. Three other friends of mine and I have looked
to the stars and the wonders in heaven.
We have also read the books of prophecy in which the future is foretold
in words that are hard to understand.
The words of the prophecy and the stars in heaven tell us that a miracle
is about to happen. A king is to be born
who will come out of Israel and he will save all mankind. I have sold all my possessions and have taken
the money and purchased these.”
Artaban
reached inside his vest and removed a small leather bag and opened it. He then poured out three precious stones into
his hand—a sapphire, deep blue as the dark of night; a ruby, red as the red of
fire; and a pearl, white as the fresh fallen snow.
“A new star
will appear in the heavens, and when it does, my companions and I will meet to
travel together across the desert. The
signs in the heavens tell me that the time is near. Come with me that you too, can worship this
King of the Jews.”
One by one
his friends told him that he was silly to search after a king that would come
from the Jews, or that they were too old to make the trip, or had businesses
that they could not afford to leave. One
by one, they had a reason why they could not follow until Artaban stood alone
with his father.
“My son, it
may be the light of truth that you follow or it may be a hollow dream. But, it is better to follow the shadow of the
best than to remain content with the worst.
I am too old for this journey, but my heart shall be your companion. Go in peace.”
Artaban now
stood alone. The embers of the fire now
were a but a dull glow in the dark. As
he looked into the heavens in deep thought he spied the glimmer of a new
star. The time had arrived. Artaban must now make his journey.
II
Vasda,
Artaban’s faithful horse, seemed to sense his master’s excitement. For the next ten days they would travel over
500 miles to meet the other Magi. It was
a long and dangerous trip and they would have to pace themselves carefully to
make the distance on time. There would
be no time to spare if they were to meet at the appointed temple on time.
On the last
day of the journey, Vasda was tired and weak.
Artaban and Vasda could easily have stopped to rest, but they were only
three hours away from the Temple of the Spheres and they had to be there by
midnight in order to make the journey across the desert with Artaban’s
friends. As they traveled on, Vasda
seemed to sense danger off to the side of the road. He carefully moved forward, prepared to take
his master to safety. As they pressed
on, Artaban saw the form of a man off to the side of the road. He lay on the ground and was dressed as one
of the poor Hebrews who was in exile.
Artaban dismounted and walked closer to the man. He was taken with fever and deathly ill. Artaban supposed he would die in the night
and started back to his horse. As he
turned, a hand reached up and grabbed Artaban’s robe. He then heard a plea for help.
Artaban was
a gifted Magi and was skilled in the healing arts. He thought of his duty to heal but thought
that if he lingered only an hour that he would miss his appointment with his
fellow travelers. They would leave him
behind believing that he had given up on the trip and he would miss seeing this
new king of the Jews. “God or purity and
truth, tell me what I should do.”
Artaban then pulled his healing herbs from his cloak and gave the dying
man water and sat and ministered unto him through the night.
Much past
midnight, the Hebrew awakened and asked his healer who he was and what he was
doing. Artaban answered the man, telling
him that he was in search of the new Christ child, the King of the Jews. The man, much stronger now said, “I have
nothing to repay thee for making me whole.
I can tell you only this. Our
traditions say that this king of the Jews will be born not in Jerusalem, but in
Bethlehem. May the God of Abraham,
Isaac, and Jacob guide you safely there.
Artaban and
Vasda left the man in the care of an innkeeper and rushed towards the temple,
but the morning rays of the sun told him that he was much too late to meet with
his friends. When he arrived at the
temple he saw that he was right. His
fellow travelers had left, but had left a note under a rock for Artaban. “We have waited as long as we can. We press forward and hope you can join us.”
Artaban was
stunned. There was no way that he would
be able to make the journey alone. He
must sell the sapphire for a train of camels and supplies to make the trip
across the desert alone.
III
As Artaban
traveled across the desert his heart was filled with guilt as he had taken one
of the gifts for the newborn Messiah and sold it for provisions to cross the
desert. Still, he had two gifts
remaining and perhaps the king would find those gifts acceptable.
Artaban
arrived in Bethlehem three days after the other three wise men had brought their
gifts to the child of Mary and Joseph.
But, they had already gone and he was left alone to find the Christ
child and present him with his ruby and pearl.
As he searched the streets for someone to give him directions he sensed
an unusual quiet. Finally, he heard a
voice of a young mother singing to her crying baby. He knocked on the door and was met by the
young woman. He told her why he was
there and she replied, “Three days ago three men came from the east bearing
gifts to a child who was born. Angels
sang at the child’s birth and shepherds came to pay tribute to the child, but
just as quickly as they came, they disappeared so into the night. Joseph and Mary fled from the town and have
gone to Egypt. Ever since then, there
has been a spell upon the city and something evil lingers here.”
Artaban
stood in despair as he thought how he had missed giving his gift to the
child. As he stood in the doorway, he
heard a terrible clamor from the streets of the city. Suddenly, there were soldiers marching
through the streets with bloodied swords.
Mothers ran screaming through the streets as the soldiers ransacked the
homes, killing all the newborn children.
Artaban turned to the young mother and sent her to the back of the house
to keep her child still. Soon, the
captain of the soldiers approached the house and Artaban stood in the doorway
blocking his entrance. “Step aside!”
commanded the soldier.
“There is
no child here,” replied Artaban, then reached into his purse and pulled the
ruby from it. He stretched forth his
hand and said, “This is the precious gift for the prudent captain who passes
and leaves this house in peace.” The
captain of the guard turned to the soldiers and commanded, “Move on. There is no child here,” then snatched the
ruby and marched on.
Artaban
stood alone in the doorway, now trembling.
“What have I done? I have spoken
an untruth, though it was to save the life of a child. But, now I have lost two of the gifts for the
King of the Jews. What ever shall I
do? How will I ever be worthy to see thy
face?”
But the
tearful voice of the young mother spoke, “Because thou hast saved the life of
my child, may the Lord bless thee and keep thee; the Lord make His face to
shine upon thee and be gracious unto thee….”
IV
I followed Artaban
in my dreams as he traveled through the years looking for the Christ
child. Everywhere he went it seemed that
people needed his healing powers. There
were those in need—those who were hungry and thirsty or cold in the night. There were others in prison, alone. Each time after he stopped he would learn
that he had just missed seeing this great King of the Jews. Still, he journeyed on in hopes of giving his
final gift to the Messiah.
Thirty-three
years had passed since he began his journey.
His hair was now pure white, his eyes were tired, and he was slow in his
walk. He knew his time on earth was
short as he made his journey once again into Jerusalem. It was the time of the Passover and there
were many strangers in the town, but there seemed to be a certain agitation
among the people there. Soon he saw a
crowd of people moving towards the outskirts of town. He joined them in their movement and asked a
stranger where they were going.
“Haven’t
you heard? We are going to Golgotha
where two famous robbers are to be crucified along with another man called
Jesus of Nazareth. This Jesus has done
many great works among the people, but the elders say he must die because he
claimed to be the Son of God and King of the Jews.”
The words
sank deep into Artaban’s heart. Could it
be that this is the king he had sought for over three decades? His heart pounded as he thought on his final
gift. Perhaps his visit to the King of
the Jews had been delayed all these years so that he might ransom him with his
remaining gift—the pearl. Quickly,
Artaban pressed onward to Golgotha to rescue Jesus with his gift.
V
As Artaban
moved with the crowd he saw a troop of soldiers dragging a young girl with a
torn dress and disheveled hair. As he
looked down at her in compassion she broke a hand free and reached up to him
and threw herself at his feet. “Have
pity on me. I am a daughter of the true
religion which is taught by the Magi. My
father was a merchant and has died and I am being sold as a slave to pay his debts. Save me from a fate worse than death.”
Artaban
trembled. It was the same dilemma that
he had faced before. It was the conflict
between the expectation of faith and the demonstration of love. Twice before he had been called upon to spend
the gifts for the Messiah in the aid of others. Was this his great opportunity
or his final trial? Only one thing was
certain. To ignore the plea from the
young girl would indeed be a fate worse than death. To rescue her would be a true act of
love. But, what of the Messiah?
Slowly, he
reached into his leather pouch and pulled from it the pearl. Over the years the pearl had taken on a
luster of the sapphire and ruby that had once been its traveling companions. In his hand he held the ransom for the King
or the girl. He could not save
both. He handed it to the soldier in
charge and commanded him to release the girl.
As he spoke
the sky began to darken and a terrible groan came from the earth. The walls of the buildings began to tremble
and rocks fell to the earth. Dust filled
the air and the soldiers ran in terror.
Artaban and the young girl huddled together next to a wall for safety,
but a falling tile struck Artaban on the temple, knocking him nearly
unconscious.
He lay breathless with his head
resting on the shoulder of the young girl.
She thought Artaban appeared to be listening to something, but could not
tell what it was. His lips trembled,
then moved to form words. “No, no, it is
not true.”
Still, the young girl could not
hear the other voice, but knew that Artaban was surely talking to someone other
than her. “Not so, my Lord: For when saw
I thee an hungered and fed thee? Or thirsty, and gave thee drink? When saw I thee a stranger, and took thee
in? Or naked, and clothed thee? When saw I thee sick or in prison, and came
unto thee? Three-and-thirty years have I
looked for thee; but I have never seen thy face, nor ministered to thee, my
King.”
He ceased his speech, and now the
young woman heard a voice in the distance, sweet and pure as caroling
music. Now she understood the words:
“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.”
A calmness came over Artaban’s
face. There was a long, last
breath. His journey was over. His treasures were accepted. The Other Wise Man had found the King.
