That being said, it should come as little surprise that I cringe at modern reconstructions of Jesus’ life, either through film or literature. For example, it was once recommended to me that I read Ben Hur by Lew Wallace, a tale about Jewish man in first century Palestine who is sold into slavery and then has to work his way back up the social ladder to seek justice on his Roman friend who betrayed him in the first place. I stopped after about three pages. The book begins with a prolonged description of the “Adoration of the Magi,” which didn’t particularly put me off from reading, but when Wallace began describing Mary’s flowing golden blonde hair and her sharp blue eyes I had to stop; what first century woman from Palestine would match that description!
I mention that anecdote just to set up my expectations for reading the Nativity cycle of the York Mystery Plays.[1] I half expected to see the cast run around with fake felt beards, tunics made from towels, and crowns saved from a Burger King Kids’ meal, much like modern church Christmas pageants, which I sure many of us have participated in. (I was the innkeeper. And for the record the crowns we used in class were definitely of much higher quality.) Moreover, I was expecting to find the Nativity scene somehow embedded within medieval domestic life. But what I found was slightly different. To be sure, I think the York playwright certainly places his contemporary sensibilities into the scenes, but it is neither sloppy or forced. In fact, I think it reflects a great deal of meaningful theological reflection.
For example, “Joseph’s Trouble about Mary” has a few points of dramatic irony that indicate the intellectual gymnastics needed for understanding the incarnation. In contemplating how Mary became pregnant, Joseph concludes that it was not him who did it, and so he has to contemplate two options. Either another man did it or it was some miraculous means. On this Joseph ponders,
But well I wot through prophecy
A maiden clean should bear a child,
But it is not she, sikerly (lines 61–63)
Here, while Joseph ponders whether Mary’s pregnancy has something to do with a Biblical prophecy, probably referring to Isaiah 7:14, his other sensibilities discount such a conclusion. But then having made up his mind to ask the truth of Mary he gives a greeting to Mary’s household that is full of irony. He knocks at the door and says, “All hail, God be herein” (line 75). What could be more ironic? When Joseph seeks to find the truth about Mary he states the very truth that describes Mary’s condition.
Additionally, while Joseph does not believe Mary’s statements about the origin of her pregnancy, some of these same responses are repeated to Joseph when the angel visits him in a dream. For example, when Joseph asks, “Whose is the child thou art withal?” (line 158), Mary responds, “Yours sir, and the king’s of bliss” (line 159). “Bliss” subsequently returns in the angel’s appearance when he says of the child, “All joy and bliss then shall be after / And to all mankind now alther most” (lines 268–269). This parallel exchange helps the listener to contemplate both the human and divine nature of the child. One the one hand, Mary’s response shows the human nature of Christ, yet on the other hand the angel’s response is indicative of the divine nature. Joseph, as the middle-term in this exchange, serves not so much as a character within the story but rather as an entry point into which the listener can contemplate this discussion. In other words, the listener is the one debating how Mary can be pregnant. As such, the listener is exposed to both human and divine explanations for the child’s existence, and is finally given the answer, “God’s son of heaven is he / And man ay most of might” (lines 281–282).
Being able to read this scene as a theological reflection rather than as a historical reconstruction has allowed me to revisit some of my misgivings about modern Nativity reconstructions that tend to “embellish” their stories. While I don’t think it is insufficient simply to stick to the text of scripture when recounting the Nativity scene, sola scriptura as our friend Linus from A Charlie Brown Christmas does when he recites Luke 2:8–14,
"That's what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown." Image Link |
I have come to appreciate how adding pieces of dialogue and action, as the York Mystery Plays do, can give a more tangible means to fully appreciate the grandeur and complexities of the incarnation.
For example, I particularly enjoyed Joseph’s actions during “The Nativity” play. Beyond just being a nervous husband waiting in the delivery ward, his actions reveal the nature of Jesus and his salvific role. Initially, Joseph is concerned with the physical condition of the scene, especially the need for light and warms.
Then would I fain we had some light,
What so befall.
It waxes right murk unto my sight
And cold withal. (lines 39–42)
This initial concern for light and warmth are first read as a domestic scene. But against, there is some dramatic irony behind Joseph’s actions. While he is out searching for light, the true light is born, as Mary’s description indicates:
Hail, through whose might
All this world was first begun,
Murkness and light. (lines 61–63)
Then upon Joseph’s return, he first sees this light, “Ah Lord God, what light is this” (line 78) and afterward constantly marvels at the light brought into the world:
Me marvels mickle of this light
That thusgates shines in this place;
Forsooth, it is a selcouth sight. (lines 92–94)
In this vain, the Nativity is more than a historical scene; rather, it is an occasion for contemplation about the nature of Christ and God’s plan of salvation enacted through the incarnation. It didn’t matter to the medieval person the specifics of the scene – though such details might also convey information to the audience watching the play, whereas we as readers a limited to the words of dialogue – so long as the correct doctrines and were present in the play. Likewise, as I read a Nativity account, I should be less concerned with whether or not Mary has a hair color fitting of a first century woman from Palestine and more with how the scene portrays the incarnation through the use of drama, word play, and action.
-Daniel Christensen
[1] York Mystery Plays: A Selection in Modern Spelling, ed. Richard Beadle and Pamela M. King (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999).
Exactly! You do an excellent job showing the way in which apparently domestic (humble, everyday) details in the plays actually carry theological significance—the ultimate significance always being, of course, that God became man. God humbled himself to enter into the everyday. The danger, as you rightly point out, is forgetting that God was still God, even as a baby in the manger. The greatest irony is that human language can be used to talk about God at all! Even the grandest crown in the world would be as a Burger King crown to the divine—and yet, God put on the Burger King crown to speak to us. RLFB
ReplyDeleteP.S. Mary's hair is blond in late medieval images of the Nativity only when the artists are relying on Birgitta of Sweden. There was a relic of Mary's hair at Rouen that was also blond, but other thirteenth-century sources argued her hair must have been dark. Confusingly enough, pilgrims to the Holy Land in the Middle Ages could have seen women with blond hair as there was also a long-standing trade in slaves from Eastern Europe to the Mediterranean.