Twelve Drummers Drumming

Epiphany has arrived. The three wise men enter a humble manger after their 12-day pilgrimage, accompanied by six species of birds, maids milking, ladies dancing and lords leaping to the music of pipers and drummers. They offer gifts of aromatic tree resins and five golden rings. There is the baby Jesus surrounded by a rested mother spared the ordeal of labor, a proud father, some local shepherds, farm animals like oxen and donkeys. It is a diverse gathering bringing together men and women, the rich and the poor, kings (one from Africa, one from Asia and one from Europe) and shepherds, the human and the animals, the earthly and heavenly (a few angels hovering above). It is a peaceful scene and evokes the promise of new life we all feel in the presence of innocent babes. This one is granted a special divinity, but grew to suggest that we are all, each and every one, born sacred and if we live well and claim our divinity, we can come to know that the Kingdom of Heaven is within us. 

 

In the Dark Ages, Christianity was a heavily patriarchal religion with the Virgin Mary given scant attention and the wrathful, vengeful God from the Old Testament still on the scene. Christmas was barely acknowledged and it was Easter that was at the center. Instead of an innocent babe in the manger, it was a suffering man nailed to a cross that dominated the imagery. (When my children, aged 5 and 9, first saw that image in the hall of our Austrian pension, they were aghast). My theory about a thousand years of the darkness of that historical period is that the absence of the feminine and the childlike made for a quality of life that produced very little that was memorable. 

Enter the Middle Ages and the rise of the Virgin Mary in the Cosmology and suddenly, there is a cultural explosion. Grand cathedrals like Notre Dame (Our Lady) were built, paintings depicted the Nativity, troubadours sang praises to women, the art of courtly love entered the culture. The energy shifted somewhat from the gruesome crucifixion and death of Easter to the serenity surrounding the birth of Christmas. The gifts offered spoke of generosity that yes, got later twisted to rampant capitalist consumerism, but also birthed a jolly, pagan, benevolent man who brought magic and mystery into the scene and shared front lawns sitting in a sleigh next to the manger. 

 

Speaking of which, it was St. Francis, the patron saint of my city, who made the first three-dimensional version of the Nativity scene in 1223. He also emphasized the humble, gentle and tender side of Jesus, as personified in the purity of a baby and the infectious joy in a baby’s smile. I need not comment on the havoc that followed and continues to this day in the name of that baby. Sigh.

 

The two days of constant rain in San Francisco have finally let up, there is blue sky outside my window, and it’s time to put away the Christmas decorations until, fates willing, next year. Maybe I’ll see if there’s a taiko drum practice somewhere so I can hear twelve drummers drumming. 

 

Or not. Happy Epiphany!