Christmas memories often flicker with familiar images, and for many, the ‘three kings’ or Magi are central figures. Like many, my childhood Christmases featured a glowing Nativity scene, complete with those regal visitors. These weren’t just decorations; they were characters in a story that felt deeply personal, a vibrant part of Christmas. This enduring presence of the Magi is echoed in the beloved Christmas carol, “We Three Kings of Orient Are.”
Perhaps you, like countless others, have donned a crown and portrayed Caspar, Melchior, or Balthazar in a Nativity play. Unlike some festive figures, the Magi aren’t merely tradition; their journey is rooted in the Gospel of Matthew. Chapter 2 recounts their arrival:
“In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, magi from the east came to Jerusalem, asking, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star in the east and have come to pay him homage.”
This scriptural basis and the captivating melody of “We Three Kings Song” make it a Christmas staple. When exploring Christmas carols for the “Hark!: The Stories Behind Our Favorite Christmas Carols” podcast, featuring “We Three Kings” was a must. Beyond its musical allure, the song is rich with intriguing questions. Who were these travelers? What made them ‘wise men’? Was the ‘star of wonder’ a cosmic event or a divine sign? And why those unusual gifts – gold, frankincense, and myrrh – for a newborn?
Our exploration into “We Three Kings song” and the figures it celebrates unearthed fascinating insights, detailed in the podcast episode aired on Nov. 29th. Yet, after extensive research and expert interviews, a more fundamental question emerged: Were the three wise men, central to both the carol and Christmas tradition, actually real?
This question, I understand, might feel sacrilegious to some. The assumption that the Magi were kings, and that there were three, is deeply ingrained. The popularity of “We Three Kings song” and countless artistic depictions reinforce this image.
Indeed, historian Eric Vanden Eykel notes the Magi’s prominence in Christian art: “the Magi are the third most represented figures in Christian art, third only to Mary and Jesus.” Their significance in Christian imagination dates back centuries. The catacombs beneath Rome, for instance, reveal ancient portrayals of the Magi. In the Catacomb of Priscilla, frescoes depict three figures in vibrant robes, offering gifts to Mary and baby Jesus. Another image, on Severa’s burial niche, echoes this scene, adding a star and “Phrygian hats” to denote the Magi as foreigners.
However, Matthew’s Gospel never specifies the number of Magi. The term used, magoi, was broad, encompassing meanings from charlatans to scholars to royal advisors. So, who were these figures so central to Nativity pageants and Christian devotion, and immortalized in “We Three Kings song”?
Dr. Vanden Eykel suggests Matthew included the Magi to “validate the kingship of Jesus.” Their association with royalty served to contrast Jesus’s true kingship with that of Herod and the Roman empire. This theme of Jesus’s kingship is central to Matthew’s Gospel, bookended by the Magi’s arrival and Jesus’s crucifixion. “The only two points in the Gospel where Jesus is called the king of the Judeans,” Dr. Vanden Eykel explains, “is when the Magi come looking for him at the start and then also when he’s crucified.”
As a scholar, Dr. Vanden Eykel focuses on literary analysis rather than historical proof. He proposes the Magi are likely literary figures created by Matthew to serve his narrative. “It’s one of those things,” he suggests, “where if something fits just really, really well with the overall story that you’re telling, it’s likely that you probably embellish that.”
Does the historical accuracy of the Magi diminish their significance, or the power of “We Three Kings song”? The historicity of the Magi isn’t a core tenet of Christian faith. Catholic theology understands Scripture as divinely inspired but not always literal history. The Bible encompasses diverse literary forms, including poetry, myth, and figurative narratives. A story need not be factually true to convey profound spiritual truths.
Conversely, the Magi’s story, and by extension, “We Three Kings song,” enriches Christmas. Producing the podcast episode about “We Three Kings song” was like peeling back layers of meaning. Exploring the Magi, the star, the gifts, and the carol itself revealed deeper significance. In conversation with Guy Consolmagno, S.J., director of the Vatican Observatory, about the enduring fascination with the Star of Bethlehem, he reflected: “We can see the star. We can’t see Jesus. We can see the star. We can’t see God. We can see something in the universe that is beautiful and seemingly eternal. And to know that that’s not God, but something pointing us to God, is very encouraging.”
For me, the Magi’s story, much like “We Three Kings song,” acts as a cherished memento. A photograph or keepsake can’t capture the full essence of a loved one, but it evokes powerful memories and emotions. Similarly, whether the Magi were historical figures, whether they truly brought myrrh, or whether the star was a comet, their journey, and the carol “We Three Kings song” it inspired, offer valuable lessons. Perhaps the true meaning lies not in definitive answers, but in embracing wonder and leaving behind the familiar to be transformed by it. As Brother Consolmagno reminded me, “it’s the wonder itself that tells me that God is present.” The enduring appeal of “We Three Kings song” perfectly encapsulates this wonder, inviting us each Christmas to ponder the deeper meanings of faith and the magic of the season.
