I’ve loved this carol from the years of my childhood, when I belted out about those three kings from the shiveringly mysterious land of “Orientar.” The song is suffused with my memories of standing beside my grandparents, parents, children, friends and relatives and THEIR children as time went along. Most of us have those dear memories. I recall my young but “regal” brothers, two of whom are now gone, who marched into sanctuaries, mini-magi in bathrobes. Later I found myself enjoying many subsequent children’s pageants, watching in delighted amusement as yet other little kinglets entered proudly into church to present their gifts. In time I came to recognize that this is one of the very few nativity carols that prefigures the Christ Child’s life and end—and then His even more triumphant new beginning. If we didn’t have Easter, we would never have Christmas. The three kings make their harsh winter trek (read T. S. Eliot’s poem “The Journey of the Magi”) to rejoice in the holy birth. Yes, but they also bring myrrh which foreshadows (and we sing about it at Christmas) the “sorrowing, sighing, bleeding, dying” that lay ahead. But finally comes the carol’s burst of joy with Christ’s glorious rising, with His new and ultimate birth. Eliot’s poem has one aged king looking back, reflecting on his journey’s experience, saying “it was, you may say, satisfactory.” Indeed!
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