The 4th Magi

I lost my quest
by Cito Beltran

A few days before Christmas, I was somehow reminded of a story commonly entitled The gift of the fourth Magi. The story as far as I can trace was written by Henry Van Dyke. After many adaptations and retelling it was eventually made into a movie for television.

Contrary to common belief the story tells us of Artaban the fourth Magi. He was a Persian priest of the Magi and a king as well. Like Gaspar, Melchior and Balthezar, Artaban was also a historian and an astronomer. They all believed that the Star would guide them to the newborn King.

For this Artaban sold all his possessions to buy gifts to present to the King of Kings. He bought a Sapphire as blue as the night sky, a ruby as red as the rays of the setting sun, a pearl as white as the snow on the mountain top.

Artaban was to meet up with his fellow kings on the tenth day at the Temple of the Seven Spheres but within hours of the appointed time, Artaban stumbles upon a dying stranger. As a healer, Artaban is unable to ignore the poor man and spends hours to give him water and potent remedies which restores the stranger.

He thanked Artaban and knowing of his quest, tells Artaban that the Savior will not be born in Jerusalem but in Bethlehem and prayed for him because he had pity upon the sick. This delay meant that Artaban would never make it to the appointed meeting. It also meant that he would need to use the sapphire to purchase his own caravan to cross the desert.

“I may never overtake my friends. Only God the merciful knows whether I shall lose sight of the King because I stopped to show Mercy.”

After days of crossing the desert, Artaban finally reached Bethlehem and quickly learned that Three Wise Men had presented many rich gifts to the child to honor him….three days past. He also learned that they had departed just as suddenly as they arrived and that Joseph and Mary had fled to Egypt.

The young mother who had told Artaban all the details was busy serving him what little food she had when shouts broke into the night: “The soldiers, the soldiers of Herod are killing our children”.

Artaban in all his majesty stood by the doorway as soldiers with bloody hands and bloody swords came his way led by their captain. Quickly he drew the Ruby that was as red as blood and bribed the Captain to be left in peace, which they quickly did.

As they left Artaban prayed: God of truth forgive my sin! I have said the thing that is not, to save a child. And two of my gifts are gone. Shall I ever be worthy to see the face of the King?”

But the young mother whose child was saved said: “Because you have saved the life of my little one, may the Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face shine upon you and be gracious unto you; the Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace.”

So the fourth wise man moved on. Beginning from Egypt and then back to Jerusalem, along the way his quest would be disrupted by the needy, the sick, the broken and always he would stop to help.

For 33 years Artaban kept the faith and saved his last great gift for his great king. During this time he was already very familiar with the prophecy about the Great King. then He had heard of news that the “King of Kings” was in Jerusalem to be crucified at Golgotha.

Artaban rushed to Golgotha somehow hoping to ransom the King with his pearl of great value. He followed the crowd but even before he could see the hill Artaban’s attention was caught by soldiers dragging a young girl with torn dress and matted hair. He stopped and looked at her with compassion.

The young girl suddenly broke free of the soldiers and embraced Artaban’s feet: “Have mercy on me and save me. I also am a daughter of the true religion of the Magi. Now I am to be sold as a slave to pay my father’s debts. Save me from this fate worse than death”.

Once again Artaban trembled from the same familiar feeling. His heart again ached for a stranger suffering and in great need of his help. His mind tormented from the possibility of defeat of failing in his quest, his life’s wish of meeting the King of Kings to honor him with his last great gift.

Artaban reached for the pearl and it shone as no other gem did. Truly a gift fit for the King. “This is your ransom, daughter!” The soldiers released the girl and moments later Artaban collapsed as if in defeat thinking how he wasted all those years and losing all the gifts he had for the King of Kings.

Just then he saw someone who was unmistakably a great King. Artaban realized that he was in the presence of the King he had long sought out. He also realized that he had nothing left to honor him with.

It was then that the King of Kings reminded him of the sick poor man he helped at the beginning of his journey. Of the mother and her child he saved from Herod’s soldiers, and the young girl being dragged into slavery. “In as much as you have done it to the least of these, you have done it unto me”.

A king had found his King.

halaga

“minsan hindi ko maintindihan. parang ang buhay natin ay napagti-tripan. medyo malabo yata ang mundo. binabasura ng iba ang siyang pinapangarap ko” -parokya ni edgar

naglinis ako ng kwarto nung isang araw lang. nagtanggal ng mga lumang damit, sapatos at bag na ilang taon nang ‘di napapakinabangan. pati na rin mga unan, laruan, papel, bolpen at kung anu-ano pang mga gamit na nakakalat lang doon. inilagay ko ang mga ito sa mga malalaking supot para itapon.

nagpatulong ako kay ate dina (na naglilinis ng bahay namin tuwing sabado - wala pa rin kaming kasambahay hanggang ngayon) para ibaba ang mga supot. sabi niya sa akin, “ay ma’am.. magagamit pa ito.. magaganda pa ‘yung iba.. sayang naman.. pwede ko bang iuwi na lang..?” siyempre, pumayag ako.

totoo nga.. marami tayong mga biyayang hindi lubos na binibigyang-halaga. marahil ay nasanay na tayo na naririyan lang ang mga ito. iniisip nating pangkaraniwan na lamang ang mga ito.. maaari nang ipagpalit. lalo na kung nakatuon lamang tayo sa mga mas bago at mas magagarang bagay na maaari nating makuha.

pero para sa isang taong mas nangangailangan.. para sa isang taong iniisip nating mas salat sa biyaya, kasagutan na sa kanyang mga dasal ang mga bagay na binabasura lamang natin.

ano ba ang mahalaga para sa iyo, kapatid? o di kaya.. Sino ba ang binibigyan mo ng halaga? nagpasalamat ka na ba sa Kanya para sa napakaraming biyayang ipinagkaloob Niya?

kung matagal ka nang miyembro ng community na ito, kailan ka huling nagpasalamat sa Kanya at dinala ka Niya sa Rivers? kung may pinagdaanan kang ‘di kanais-nais na karanasan noong nakaraang linggo, nagpasalamat ka na ba sa Kanya dahil iniligtas ka Niya dito? kung kasalukuyan kang nakakaramdam ka ng lungkot o pighati, kaya mo bang pasalamatan Siya sa Kanyang pagdamay sa iyo?

marami tayong dapat ipagpasalamat. maraming mga biyayang dapat na bigyang-halaga. huwag sana nating ibasura na lamang ang pinapangarap ng iba..

spare change

“change; we don’t like it, we fear it, but we can't stop it from coming. we either adapt to change or we get left behind. and it hurts to grow, anybody who tells you it doesn’t is lying.” - grey’s anatomy

at the start of the school year, when we were informed that the elementary kids would be temporarily “housed” with us in high school, i didn’t like the idea. i figured the halls would be too noisy; there would be too many kids running around, etc. there would be too many changes.. too many “new things” to adjust to. i didn’t like it.. but none of us were given any choice anyway.

a couple of months passed.. and somehow, i found myself actually enjoying having elem kids around. they’re a bit noisy.. but they’re so cute.. and they always have nice smiles on their faces. they greet us “good morning ma’am!” so cheerfully - something that very few teenagers do, haha! and now that the first semester’s over, the little kids will go back to their newly-renovated building inside the campus. and me..? well, i’m honestly going to miss them :(
i’m someone who hates change. if i could have my way, i’d probably have the same hair style for my entire life (which is *almost* true, actually). i wouldn’t dream of moving out of the country.. or out of quezon city.. or even out of our house! the thought of trying out or learning new things, exciting as it is, scares the hell out of me.

but i, like everybody else, am not spared from change. and as the quote says, none of us can stop change from happening. we adapt or else we get stuck in the rut. and while it may be tempting to just sit still and wait for the world to stop revolving, we know that wouldn’t happen. the world won’t give us a hand if ever we lose the energy (or the courage) to adapt to all the changes going on around us.

but HE will.

“on my bed i remember you; i think of you through the watches of the night. because you are my help, i sing in the shadow of your wings.” ps 63:6-7

it is a great source of comfort to know that in the midst of an ever-changing world, there’s someone we can hold on to - someone who will *never* change.

thank you lord, for being that one constant we can always rely on.. :)

why “father” is a four-letter word

wait. before anybody reacts to my title.. i just want to make it clear that not all four-letter words are bad :p after all, L-O-V-E is a four-letter word. and if you ask me, father = love ü

how does my father love me? hmm. let me count the ways.. ü

1. he is *always* there for me to talk to. no matter how late (or early) the hour, my dad makes sure to lend a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on.

2. he’s ever-reliable. i know that whenever he makes a promise, my dad would *always* deliver. he does not renege on his word. if he tells me he will pick me up from school at 3pm, i am sure he will be there at that time - even earlier.

3. he tells me the truth. my dad has always been my greatest source of encouragement. he’s generous with his praises and often tells me how proud he is of me. but my dad also lets me know whenever i disappoint him. when i do something wrong, he reprimands me. but he always does it with love.. and i never really feel offended when he tells me off, because i know he always has my best interests in mind.
4. he is open. even when i was a lot younger, dad would talk to me about adult concerns like work, finances and even asked for my opinion on family matterse. he showed me that he trusted my judgment; and i never felt like i was “only a kid” around him. i may have been a kid then.. but i always knew that in my dad’s eyes, i was already “somebody” ü

5. he is strong. dad not only does a lot of stuff around the house; he’s also our source of strength when it comes to resolving “issues” in the extended family. he never passes judgment on anybody.. and he aslways acts as “peacemaker” during times of conflict. we all appreciate his wisdom, but more than that, we recognize the strength of his character. he’s been through *a lot* of tough times.. and my dad has always used his experiences to glorify the Lord even as he gives advice.

i’ve said this so many times before.. but i’ll say it again. my dad is one of the greatest blessings the Lord has given to me ü because he mirrors my Father in Heaven so well. through my dad, i get to know Him a bit more each day. i learn how my Father shows His love for me in the way my dad shows his ü

happy birthday, dad. i love you ü

color my world

i’m not a huge fan of lunches. usually when it’s time for lunch at school, i stay at my desk.. read a book.. check some seatworks.. or work in front of the PC (or laptop) while munching away at my “lunch” of chips/snacks from the cafeteria.

but that was a long time ago. nowadays, i find myself looking forward to lunch at school. why the change? hmm. it’s all because of the lunch notes.

see, a while back, my dad started packing lunch for me. yes, you read that right. my dad packs my lunch *every day* before we go to work. and to make sure i finish the food he prepares for me, he hides notes in my baon :p it works, though.. coz i’m forced to eat all my rice (and even the dessert!) just to get the notes my dad hides at the bottom of my baunan haha ü

the thing is.. my dad’s notes have made me appreciate lunch hour so much more than i used to ü no more “multitasking” for me while eating.. no more snacks-for-lunches.. no more rushing/skipping noontime meals. because i know the effort my dad puts into preparing my food.. as well as the love he pours out into those teeny-tiny notes he writes for me ü

in the same manner, the Lord gives us *a lot* of His love notes every single day! and He uses all sorts of ways to send them to us. He gives us His Word to remind us of His numerous promises of love and blessings. He sends encouraging messages to inspire us to keep on walking the Christian walk. He surrounds us with friends and family who rejoice with us in times of triumph and who cry with us in times of sorrow. God provides us with a loving community to journey with us as we walk closer to Him. He gives us 525,600 minutes each year.. for us to use as we see fit - to smell the roses, to smile at friends, to spend time in prayer, to glorify our Lord ü

i see trees of green, red roses too. i see them bloom for me and you. and i think to myself, “what a wonderful world”

i see skies of blue and clouds of white. the bright, blessed day, the dark, sacred night. and i think to myself, “what a wonderful world”

the colors of the rainbow, so pretty in the sky, are also on the faces of people going by. i see friends shaking hands, saying ‘how do you do?’ they’re really saying ‘i love you’

i hear babies cry, i watch them grow. they’ll learn much more than i’ll ever know. and i think to myself, “what a wonderful world”

every blade of grass.. every flower.. every person we meet is a “hello” and “i love you” from our God. and if we open our eyes.. our hearts.. to accept His daily messages to us, we will realize that it truly is a wonderful world ü

brothers and sisters, who colors your world? who makes it wonderful? who enables you to enjoy life and see it in a new light?

may we always find time to savor His love for us.. and to thank Him for all the blessings He continues to send our way ü

525,600

tomorrow i will be celebrating my 31st birthday. a year older.. and hopefully a year wiser ü and as with special occasions, this is another one of those times when i pause to reflect on what’s happened to me for the past year.

at first blush, “one year” doesn’t seem like such a long time. but after doing some mental math (ok, i admit, i had to use a calculator), i realized that 1 year = 365 days = 8,760 hours = 525,600 minutes. i know.. it’s practically the same amount of time. but looking at that really big number kinda put some things in perspective for me.

“..in daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee. in inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife. in 525,600 minutes, how do you measure a year in life?”

so goes the song (“seasons of love” from the musical, ‘rent’). if it’s true that every moment counts, then those 525,600 minutes represent short yet extremely irreplaceable moments. they are minutes that may be used in so many different ways. to smile at a stranger or say hello to a friend; to kiss a loved one or to hold a sick person’s hand; to give a hug or to text an inspiring thought; to utter a prayer of thanksgiving or to give an encouraging word; to say what’s in the heart - like “i love you” or “i’m sorry.” the list goes on and on..

when i look back at the year that’s passed, i’d have to admit that out of those 525,600 minutes, quite a number were spent unwisely. there were those times when i frowned or glared at people.. moments when i hurried past my friends. i’ve been guilty of taking loved ones for granted.. and of being selfish in giving my time and energy to those who are closest to me. there were occasions when i failed to give a kind word to someone who needed it. i often refused to say what was in my heart. and lot of times, i neglected to thank Him for His blessings and his grace.

“525,600 minutes. 525,000 journeys to plan. 525,600 minutes. how can you measure the life of a woman or man? in truths that she learned, or in times that he cried? in bridges he burned, or the way that she died?

..how about love? measure in love..”

525,600 minutes. that’s the same number of moments given to all of us each year, brothers and sisters. the only difference between a bad year and a good one is how much love we put into each of those minutes ü as sisters yna, loly and maris said in their sharing last week, every moment is a gift from the Lord. there are no such things as “bad” times when we are walking the Christian walk. every minute is an opportunity for us to experience God’s tremendous love ü we are alive - to witness to His goodness, mercy and love. that, in itself, should make us truly grateful ü

thank You, Lord, for the past 525,600 precious minutes You have given me. help me to use the next 525,600 ones to share more of Your love with others.. and to give more of Your glory back to You ü

coming back home

she’s a sophomore student. friendly. cute. with a nice, dimply smile. she’s the apple of her mother’s eye.

she’s also the one who stole her schoolmate’s videocam.

we (members of the school’s disciplinary board) called her and her mother to a conference last week. we laid out the testimonies of witnesses and the summary of the initial investigation. with tears in her eyes, she admitted to stealing her friend’s camera with the intention of pawning it. her mother was shocked. ashamed. disappointed. and hurt.

after the conference, she apologized to the friend she stole from. her “sorry”s came out in sobs. she could hardly breathe. but her mom sat beside her. apologizing with her. crying with her. bearing the shame with her.

in a few days, she will face the consequences of her actions. she may be suspended for a couple of days. she will have to replace the item she stole. and she may also have to cope with the stigma of being branded a “thief” by her peers. it will be difficult. but somehow, i believe that she’ll come out of this a better person. because she has a mother who’s willing to help her carry the burden.

brothers and sisters, this is our story too. at some point in our lives, we do something ridiculously stupid. we make mistakes. we stumble. we fall into sin. we turn away from our Father.

like the prodigal son, we leave our home to search for adventure. and because He respects our freedom, the Lord allows us to commit our own mistakes. He lets us discover for ourselves that which He always knew: He alone can satisfy our desires.

and when we find that there’s nowhere else to go.. we shamefacedly go back home.

yet even from a long way off, our Father sees us. and He not only awaits our return, He comes running to meet us. because no matter how deep the wounds we cause, the Lord offers His pardon. where we see despair, God sees hope. and where there is much hurt, our Father heals with His love.

* * *

Lord, it is a source of great comfort to know that no matter how far we stray from Your side, all we need to do is to turn around.. and we will always find You there.. welcoming us back with arms wide open. thank You for not condemning us. thank You for bearing our cross.. our shame. thank You for dying for our sins. thank You for continuing to look at us with eyes of hope and love. and thank You for always welcoming us back home. amen.