How do you know where you are going?

I mean, as people, how do we know where we are going in life?

Do we believe that God have a plan for us that we must discover otherwise our lives are lost, unfulfilling, and not on the right track? We wonder about this. How do we know where we are going and if we are on the “right” road?

In thinking about this I find that my idea of God a bit different. God does lead us. The birth of Jesus was great big sign. God says to us:

            Follow this person!

            He knows me and can help you to know me!

            Do what he does.

            I love him and I love you.

            He’ll help you just like I will.

            You can see him while you can’t really see me.

But I don’t think we have to find THE path otherwise we are doomed to unhappiness and fruitless yearning. I have a different idea and this week what struck me is that God is a bit like a GPS, a Global Positioning System.

Do some of you have those devices you put in your car, a Garmin or whatever?  You punch in where you’d like to go and a map comes up along with nice voice that says “turn left here” or “merge here.” The voice helps guide you where you want to go….  But only as long as you pay attention.

What happens if you get distracted and miss your turn. Or you get lost. Or you forget about the device and turn up your stereo because a really good song comes on….?

Does your GPS then say to, “you terrible awful person! I gave you clear directions and you messed up again. How could you? It’s not like the directions aren’t right in front of you. Why don’t you listen to me?”

No, I don’t think so. Instead the voice says, “recalculating.”

Recalculating. Finding another road, so you can get home, or wherever you are going, by a new route.

I think that is what God does. We mess up. We leave the road of integrity. We fall away from our intentions. We ignore those who need our help. We get a little too worried, a little too grasping with our wealth and stuff. We get tired and would rather listen to something else than the hard, clear voice of God. We experience hard times and feel lost. We get so frustrated with the change we are working so hard to accomplish in the world and in ourselves.

And having fallen off the path, left the road, what happens? Have we ruined our lives? We aren’t living God’s plan. Or what if we are wandering, feeling a bit lost like we don’t even have a plan ourselves are we abandoned.

No, God helps to reach into our lives….recalculating… and tries to get us home or back on track by a different road. We don’t have to find THE way, THE one way to live our life. We just have to find A way to live in love and faithfully searching for how God can use us.

And when challenges strike….recalculating…

If we are open to God’s words, God’s voice, maybe even sent to us in a dream, we can return home by a different road.

I imagine the magi set out with some definite expectations. They were going to visit a king, a foreign dignitary, and they planned to bring appropriately royal gifts for this diplomatic mission. Magi themselves were not rulers but rather extremely learned individuals who sometimes were sent as envoys. Who knows who their patron was, or even if they had one? But they made plans for an elaborate trip following a prescribed itinerary which meant putting together an entourage on the road to Jerusalem to visit the king and make appropriate gestures to the new ruler.

But that is not what they found. Herod didn’t know what they were talking about. And suddenly a chill went through the city—a new king?—that the established, brutal king didn’t know about? Everyone was scared. And certainly the magi would have quickly ascertained not only their diplomatic blunder, but also the very real consequences that might befall them. “Go find this new king,” Herod says, “and come back and tell me all about him so I can pay homage,” he purrs with false modesty. Yikes.

I can imagine the magi paid their respects to Herod and got out of the palace as soon as possible. But then what?  …recalculating….. 

They found their way by the star to the place of Mary and Joseph and Jesus. They entered the house (despite our putting them in the stable—the family had certainly moved to other lodging by then) and found a very different king, a very different situation, a very different understanding of the kind of power coming into the world. And our text says they were overwhelmed with joy.

Joy….perhaps because they completed their mission. Joy…perhaps like the shepherds and so many others who came into the presence of Jesus, they saw and felt the pure love and vulnerability that touched their inner most selves.

And, having seen this child, having completed this very different mission, they returned home by a different route. Yes, so they could avoid Herod and his murderous fear. But, I think, given all that happened, their trip home was via a very different road indeed. One that was internal as much as external.

As they returned, they shared what they saw. This is the central meaning of Epiphany; the whole season is about Jesus’ light moving out in to the world, as more people learn about the Christ child. The texts for the next few weeks are about Jesus’ baptism and his calling disciples and the word spreading.

They travel home by a new route, and their lives are never quite the same.

Have you heard The Story of the Other Wise Man? It is a book by Henry van Dyke written about a fourth magi who set out to find the baby Jesus.

Artaban, the fourth wise man, saw the star, consulted with his colleagues and set out to meet up with the caravan on this quest. He carried three jewels for the holy child. Though older and tired, no one else from his city would make this journey so he set out on his fleetest horse Vasda.

AS he traveled to catch the caravan he came upon a lying in the road as though dead. Artaban dismounted to see what had happened. The man was barely holding on to life. Artaban couldn’t leave him. But if he didn’t, he wouldn’t catch up with his companions and they would think he wasn’t coming and leave without him. Should he turn aside from holy task to help heal man in ditch?

“God of truth and purity, he prayed, “direct me in the holy path, the way of wisdom which only thou knowest.”

And he stayed to tend to the man, gave him food and water and cared for him until he was well enough on his own. This expense cost him the first jewel. When the man recovered Artaban then galloped day and night to meet the caravan only to find they have left, leaving him a note. “We’ve gone on to see the king of kings.” Artaban was crushed and realized he would have to travel on alone across the desert.

Artaban finally arrived in Nazareth to find his colleagues come and gone and the babe and Mary and Joseph gone as well. A young woman with a baby invited him in her modest home and told him they had fled to Egypt out of fear. Artaban was weary and worn and sad to have missed them and fearful he had lost his purpose. But just then the baby gurgled and reached out a hand and hope was reborn in Artaban’s breast.

Just then a battalion of soldiers came through the streets demanding all children two and under be surrendered. They searched the houses one by one. And carrying the children out, killed them in the street. Artaban quickly stood up and stood in the door to block it just as the soldiers came knocking. He said, “I am alone in this place. I have this jewel to give to the captain of the guard who will leave me in peace.” The soldiers took the ruby and left.

And Artaban prayed, “God of truth, forgive my sin. I have said the thing that is not to save the life of a child and two of my gifts are gone. I have spent for man that which was meant for God? Shall I be worthy to see the face of the king?”

On the road again, Artaban traveled to Egypt. Lost in the crowds of the city he searched in vain for the Christ child. He passed through the countryside which was suffering from famine. He took rest in a village where plague ravaged the people. He found none to worship but many to help. He fed the hungry and clothed the naked and healed the sick. Thirty-three years passed and he held the remained jewel in safety, still hopeful for his quest though it seemed a dream. He certainly was traveling a different road, no longer even like the well dressed, well spoken man of education and learning he once was.

Finally, he traveled back to Jerusalem in one last attempt to find the king and deliver his gift. He had been there many times before with no luck but something whispered in his heart that he might succeed. It was Passover. There was agitation in the streets. Gossip spread that a man named Jesus of Nazareth was to be crucified because he claimed to be the son of God.

Artaban wondered: Could this be the same king? His heart trembled. But he said to himself, “the ways of God are stranger than the thoughts of men and it may be that I shall find the King at last in the hands of his enemies and shall come in time to offer my last jewel for his ransom before he dies.”

So he hurried on. Just beyond the gate to the city a group of men were dragging a young girl with a torn dress down the street. She saw Artaban, saw the insignia on his battered cloak and fought her way free and threw herself at his feet. She cried “my father was a merchant. He served the magi for many years and I am a daughter of that true religion. Yet he died this week and I am to be seized for his debts and to be sold as a slave. Save me.”

Artaban trembled. His quest? He was so close. Was this an opportunity or a great temptation? He could not tell. The one thing that was sure to his divided heart: to rescue this girl would be a true deed of love. And is not love the light of the soul?

And so he surrendered this last jewel, the pearl beyond price.

Just then the sky grew dark. The earth shook and quaked. But Artaban thought, “what do I have to fear? What have I to live for? I have parted with the last hope finding the King.” The quest was over and it had failed. But in that was peace. It was not resignation. It was not submission. It was something more profound and searching.

He knew that all was well because he had done the best that he could, from day to day. He had been true to the light that had been given to him. He had looked for more.

A heavy tile fell from the roof and Artaban was struck. He fell and hit his head. He heard a voice and murmured in reply “but when Lord did I see you?” And the voice answered, “What you did for the least of these, you did for me.”

Artaban smiled, eyes closed, in the dust of the street. His journey was ended. His treasures were accepted. The other wise man had found the king.  (The Story of the Other Wise Man, Henry van Dyke, 1896, adapt.)

Artaban traveled by a different road. A different route. His was a lifetime of recalculating.

A lifetime of struggling to live out the light within and to offer gifts to God.

Artaban thought he knew the pathway.

A straightforward horse journey across the desert with friends and colleagues.

A presentation in a palace with gifts and adoration.

But that was not the case. Instead a different journey awaited, one that stretched across his entire life. A journey of hopes and doubts and discernment and waiting and seeking God. A journey of recalculating

A journey like ours.

Amen.