THIS WEEK'S SUNDAY READINGS as commented on by Mary McGlone does a lot to reconcile me to the "three kings" story.
Who were those wanderers who, unimpressed by King Herod, did homage to a newborn babe and allowed an angel to change their travel plans? Our creche sets, carols and myths tell us they numbered three — an idea deduced from the gifts Matthew mentions — but there's no reason to think that there were not more of them: more people and more gifts.
I remember smiling when I first heard that in some Orthodox traditions they put the number of them at 12, thinking of how many more kids could get a part in the Sunday School pageant. Though more work for the ones coming up with the costumes.
By tradition, they are called kings. If so, probably no more than ourselves who are baptized as priests, prophets and kings. (Not many areas of the world had three monarchs anxious to travel together to discover and revere yet another king.) Better we call them the Magi, a title that hints at mystery, magic and miracles.
The point about the unlikelihood of three monarchs doing what's described is about as good a one as I've heard about the story. The idea they were "kings" reeks of European feudal takes on these things, something that so much of Christianity should probably get shut of once and for all.
While I still like the story about the Shepherds more, I really like that far more textually based interpretation because it makes them and what they were about potentially dangerous and disrupting, as well. There's a definite darkness to the list of gifts, gold (love of which Paul correctly identifies with the origin of evil) with its association of worldly power, the kind of which Jesus said he didn't seek. The incense carries the dangerous implications that Jesus was the incarnation of God - an outrageous claim which, certainly, had and has been made by some seriously rotten charlatans and con men. Then there is the myrrh, usually associated with the embalming of a dead body and all that disquieting spookiness. The story is rather unambiguous about them looking for a future king, but what they expected he would be king of as shown by what they brought him shows he wasn't going to be just any old king.
There is as much reason to expect wise men to understand the implications of those things, their symbolism as much as we might. As much as the author of Matthew's Gospel did when he decided to include that story in his account. You have to wonder what the things the Gospel writers must have known about, heard about but decided not to include.
Historians say it's unlikely that their story reflects any verifiable event. For us, more important than historical fact is the reason Matthew made this part of his Gospel. In that realm, he left us lots of hints. First of all, Matthew borrowed key details for his story from Isaiah's prophecies. Isaiah assures the people who have been in darkness that the light of God's glory will shine on them and that their faith will attract people from afar who will come bearing gifts. With that, we have the background for the star, the travelers, the camels and the gifts: all signs of the advent of God's salvation.
This year, as I've been using the Gospel of Luke to refresh my foreign language skills, I've mentioned that I've come to conclude that Luke included what he did because he thought it happened the way he recounts, not for some reason that would be discerned only through some rather harrowing literary criticism which had a high potential for coming to conclusions Luke didn't intend. I think the same is true about the other Gospel writers. If we know one thing about them, they, all of them, really believed in the status of Jesus they present him as having, they would have taken their responsibility to accurately and honestly present his story and words very seriously. That's even true in John's Gospel, the outlier, the most mystical one, the least like the others. I think the modern historians and those who practice historical-critical dissection of texts are probably mostly all wet about that. I would like to know their evidence that those typically modern motives and practices outweighed the desire of those early members of the Jesus movement to tell it like they believed it was.
But the use of Isaiah talked about is there. I know it's a sore point that Christians use Hebrew Prophets as support for Christian theological claims but it should be remembered that Jesus wasn't a Christian figure during his lifetime, he was a Jew as were at least some of the Gospel writers, as was the person most often credited with turning the Jesus movement into Christianity, Paul.* Were they not entitled to read the scriptures that way?
That's a question that I don't think there's a knowable answer for.
The meanings of prophesy can be expected to be harder to discern than an attempted narrative account because the full meaning of all of it might not have even been known to the prophet. At least when taken in line with the idea that any prophesy could be valid and that it has a relationship to the as yet unknown future.
I'll leave you with this from her article:
What does this narrative mean for us today as we begin the year 2022? Perhaps in these uncertain times (will COVID-19 ever end?), the Magi, those people willing to walk together like participants in a synod, can be our guides. More than the time and money required for their journey, they possessed a key combination of self-confidence and desire for more meaning in life. These attitudes urged them to read the signs of the times and to venture into the unknown. They humbly believed there was more wisdom in the world than they had yet discovered. These travelers, unafraid to seek knowledge from afar, were moved — literally — by a holy disquiet, the restlessness St. Augustine says niggles at us until we rest in God. Thus, they set off in a caravan that became the first Christian pilgrimage.
Today, we see signs of a similar holy disquiet. As a result of COVID-19, people are reevaluating their lives. Researchers have reported that between January and October 2021, one in four people in the U.S. quit their jobs. Additionally, COVID-19 has made it impossible to ignore both the continuing political divisions among us and the wealth and wellness gaps that isolate us from one another, leaving multitudes of our brothers and sisters unconscionably vulnerable. At the same time, while some of our sick and their families suffered an isolation that magnified and even overshadowed the physical effects of illness, others discovered Zoom and other ways to be in direct, visual contact with their loved ones hundreds or even thousands of miles away.
In his book, Let Us Dream: The Path to a Better Future, Pope Francis shares ideas highly applicable to today's feast. He describes our time as a change of epoch, not simply a time of change. He says that this change, "accelerated by the coronavirus, is a propitious moment for reading the signs of the times." Avoiding the trap of easy answers, Francis says, "A gap has opened up between the realities and challenges we face and the recipes and solutions available to us. That gap becomes a space in which to reflect, question, and dialogue."
I need to read more books this year.
* Having wondered how many of the early Popes probably considered themselves to be Jews, perhaps never having even known the word "Christian," I'd expect Peter, considered the first Pope and the fifth, one, St. Evaristus did, I recently read about the text the Late Archbishop of Paris, Jean-Marie Lustiger wrote for his tombstone:
I was born Jewish.
I received the name
Of my paternal grandfather, Aron.
Having become Christian
By faith and by Baptism,
I have remained Jewish
As did the Apostles.
I have as my patron saints
Aron the High Priest,
Saint John the Apostle,
Holy Mary full of grace.
I have read that he wasn't the only Catholic Cardinal of his time to consider himself both Catholic and Jewish, Jean-Baptiste Gourion, the Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem, reportedly did as well. They get to decide their identity as much as anyone else does.
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