At the risk of being a Grinch who ruins Christmas, I would like to go behind the Christmas Story and relate what scholars know about the biblical texts involved. I hope that the result will be a more enlightened perspective on the role of such stories in the religious life of humankind.
In the second chapter of Matthew we read the story of wise men who came from the East to worship the baby Jesus. These men are called “magoi” (Greek for magicians), and scholars have identified them, if they were there, as Zoroastrian priests from Babylon.
There are several problems with this story. If they were following a star in the East, they might have found a Hindu savior, not a Jewish one. But most likely, they would have been searching for their own savior, one named Saosyant.
The Jewish historian Josephus hated King Herod and chronicled his life in great detail, but it is very odd that he never mentions the slaughter of infants found in Matthew 2:16. Could this be an element of what I call the “Savior Archetype,” common patterns of events that are attributed to many of the world’s saviors?
In their various scriptures the saviors are said to have had royal genealogies and miraculous conceptions; they worked miracles and escaped the clutches of death. Jesus, Krishna and Zoroaster were also threatened in infancy by demon kings.
Returning now to the beginning of the story, there is no record of Caesar Augustus’ decree that “all the world should be enrolled” (Luke 2:1). The Romans kept extremely detailed records of such events. Not only is Luke’s census not in these records, it goes against all that we know of Roman economic history.
In Josephus’ account of the Roman census in 6 C.E., he writes that those people taxed were assessed of their possessions, including lands and livestock. But Luke has Joseph and Mary making a three-day journey, away from their home and possessions in Nazareth, to register in their alleged ancestral home in Bethlehem.
At this point some readers may be saying: “Way to go, Gier, you’ve just spoiled Christmas more than any commercial enterprise could ever do.”
Let me tell you about a wise woman in an African village whose job it was to instruct the children in the tribe’s myths. She began each session with the following disclaimer: “The stories that I will tell you are not true, but they are the most important stories that you will ever hear.”
In India it is the grandmother’s task to teach Hindu mythology to the children. These are fantastic tales of great heroes and heroines, but also much violence, death and sex. Their graphic “in your face” style, not too different from Grimm’s Fairy Tales or many Old Testament stories, has a very important socio-psychological purpose.
In Europe and America, where we pride ourselves (even very religious people do) by living without myth and legend, we still pay huge sums to psychotherapists to help us recover from unresolved experiences of violence, death and sex.
Every year Unitarian children, some of whom I’ve taught world religions, celebrate the miraculous births of Confucius, Buddha and Jesus. Could not these births simply be symbols of the light of hope that every newborn child brings to a broken world?
In conclusion, I offer some excerpts from this poem by Unitarian religious educator Sophia Lyon Fahs:
Born of the seed of man and woman.
No angels herald their beginnings,
No prophets predict their future courses,
No wise men see a star to point their way
To find a babe that may save humankind.
[But] each night a child is born is a holy night.