Subject of the King

We are only half way through January 2021 and Christmas 2020 already seems like a distant memory. The Christmas season ended with The Baptism of Our Lord and we are now in Ordinary Time in the Catholic Church calendar, but there are important lessons from the Christmas Season that I need to engrave on my heart and soul, things I seemed to have missed. Earlier this month we celebrated the Feast of the Epiphany in the Church. It's a very important feast that I think was largely overlooked this year. The chaos of 2020 (not just Covid-19, but the whole smorgasbord of events that have been cooked together) have managed to accomplish what Christians of the modern age of consumerism have been crying out against for decades-- taking Christ out of Christmas. So little mention of Him. In scaling back our gift giving, feasting, traveling, gathering, and singing, we missed the whole point. Yes, the Star came this year in the conjunction of Saturn and Jupiter and we gawked at it with fascination, but have we earnestly pursued the infant King of the Jews?

"Where is the infant king of the Jews?"

Without the carols, the elaborate worship services, and participation the Eucharist, have we sought Him who the star proclaims? Have we heard the angels sing? 

I've been spiritually distracted by this world's nonsense-- and that is what it is- no sense. In letting my mind pay too much attention, my heart has been lured away. Oh, to have had the focus, the passion of the Wise Men and the Shepherds! They traveled long distances, stayed awake, overcame obstacles, endured hardships, to make it to the manger. What did I do? I got distracted by the mask issues, the social distancing, the protocols, the silence, the meal that didn't turn out, and one trip to the ER. The virus, social unrest, and the election confusion dominated the headlines and my thoughts. I missed hearing the angels bring glad tidings and the stars declaring the Glory of God. Fortunately my God is a patient and forgiving God, and the invitation to come worship and adore Him is 24/7/365. So my own epiphany came on the last day of the Christmas Season and is carrying me into Ordinary Liturgical Time during Pandemic Time.

When I taught seventh grade religion more than a decade ago, a whole life ago, I learned so much from and with my students. They were my inspiring muse in finding a deepening relationship with Jesus. One January, as we returned from Christmas Break we discussed the second chapter of the Gospel of Matthew. What makes a man a king? Three types of kings were present: Herod, the magi, and the Christ Child.

Herod the Great by all accounts was a vicious man. He enslaved his people to build huge and dangerous projects in his honor. He was suspicious of everyone around him and even had his own family members killed. He ruled with fear and when he learned a new king had been born, he had all the baby boys under two years old killed. The Slaughter of the Innocents is a horrific reminder that "absolute power corrupts absolutely."(Lord Acton) Herod's pursuit of the Christ Child was motivated by his fear and the selfish, idolatrous desire for power. Despite his words, he had no desire to worship Jesus.

The magi or kings were from the east, probably Persia. We have no idea what kind of men they were in their daily life, nor what kind of power they wielded over others. They were motivated by intellectual curiosity for sure, and perhaps spiritual desire. They may have envisioned this new king as a kind of successor to themselves when they started out on their journey. If they did, that changed by the time they found the Child with Mary and Joseph. Their response to finding the Child was to do Him homage. they prostrated themselves before Him. As I explained this to my students, I realized then and now that we Americans are ignorant - for better or for worse-of what a national king is. For many years Elis and The King of Pop ruled over music and culture in many ways, but we Americans still don't grasp the concept of a royal family with a king. We obsess from an ocean's distance over England's royal family, but when it comes to kingly leadership and rule in this country, we reject it. Thankfully, George Washington wanted nothing to doe with a crown and we Americans bow to no one but God. (These days I don't think we bow to Him at all, if we ever did. We are more likely to take a knee to our own ideology.)

Since we have no king in America, we should take some time to really think about this action of paying homage, bowing, laying prostrate before another. Bow. Genuflect. Kneel. Prostrate. They are all different levels of homage. Each one puts us subject, literally "thrown under another's rule." The question becomes how much under? The bow puts a person under but still with dignity and freedom of movement and defense. When one genuflects one loses the ability to move about freely but can spring up in an instant. When one kneels on both knees one gives up to the ruler the ability to move. To prostrate one's self means to lay in the dirt face down in all humility and subjection. There is no ability to strike out, defend, or move. All power and glory is given to another. 

This is what the wise men, the magi, did upon meeting the Christ Child. After an arduous journey, with their wealth and power at another King's feet, they laid down in the stable before the God-Man. How moving and wondering a scene for Mary and Joseph! These men of Persia to laid down like the Persian rugs they once thoughtlessly waked on, and before a Baby? What a marvelous thing. Such devotion. Such faith. Such humility. The wise men were saying in the most powerful way, "You are our king. The King of all kings. We place ourselves under your feet, your rule."

To get closer to the effect of this my students and I practiced the experience of being prostrate. When was the last time I have laid faced down on the ground? We got out of our chairs and laid moved to lay with our noses to the tile floor of the classroom. It wasn't an easy thing to do as spoiled Americans in the 21st century. Before they were even flat on their well-fed bellies, my students were complaining. "Ow! my knees." "The floor is cold!" and "Ew, it's dirty." Non of use felt comfortable not being able to see everyone else. How long did we have to stay that way? Until the King says "You may rise." We are at the mercy of the King.

Several lessons later, while covering first meetings of Jesus and His disciples, we had a discussion about how we would respond to Jesus' invitation to "Come and See". What if Jesus walked into the classroom right now? How would we respond? Hands shot up, but I wanted them to act it out.

"Don't tell me; show me! Right now!"

A significant number of the boys and girls got out of their desk simultaneously. Immediately they lay prostrate on the floor. If the King of Kings came into the room, they pay Him homage. More than a decade later I still wonder at their faith. Unless I have the faith of a child I will not see the Kingdom of God.

The King of Kings has come into my world of 2021. Have I come to adore Him? I need to put everything-- all of my being and my life, my thoughts, my dreams, my fears, my riches-- all of it under His feet. This Ordinary Time before Lent is about me repositioning myself. It's about gaining the wisdom of the magi and the faith of my students. It's about humbling myself. Then He will lift me up.