. . . don’t be satisfied with stories, how things
have gone for others. Unfold
your own myth, without complicated explanation,
so everyone will understand the passage,
we have opened you.
- Rumi

For the past two Thursday nights at the “Re-imagining Faith” class we have been reading and discussing the work of Joseph Campbell, a respected teacher, scholar and author in the field of comparative mythology. I am particularly interested in Campbell’s writings at this point in the liturgical year as we read and reflect upon the Advent and Christmas stories found in Matthew and Luke. Campbell has a gift for making myth and metaphor come alive with fresh meaning and relevance and I wanted to explore the familiar gospel stories through his perspective.

First let me be clear about what is meant by the words “myth” and “metaphor.” We often think of a myth as a story that isn’t really true; a symbolic tale about something that didn’t actually happen. And in our rational, scientific, fact-based way of thinking myth is often viewed as something inferior to history. (As if history doesn’t contain fabrication, invention and propaganda!)

Actually, myth can be just as true, perhaps even more true, than history, though it’s arena of ultimate concern is not about facts but about the possibilities for human experience and fulfillment. Campbell defines mythology as “an organization of symbolic images and narratives, metaphorical of the possibilities of human experience and the fulfillment of a given culture at a given time.” (Campbell, THOU ART THAT, p. 1f)

The truth of the Advent/Christmas legends isn’t to be found in the context of history or biology, but in the context of myth and metaphor. Sometimes it seems as if people two thousand years ago were better able to grasp this distinction than we are today.

In the third century CE a Syrian philosopher named Iamblichus wrote a book about the sixth century BCE philosopher and mathematician Pythagoras. He recounted the legend of Pythagoras’ “virgin” birth as the son of the god Apollo. Iamblichus defended the truth of this belief even while he denied its literal truth. This is clear evidence that ancient people were quite capable of discerning that myths about a god fathering a child were not true in any literal, biological sense yet were true and understandable in a metaphorical sense in that they expressed respect, perhaps even reverence for an individual’s extraordinary qualities and achievements. (see Robert Miller’s BORN DIVINE, p. 145-151)

Our lectionary text for today comes from the first chapter of Luke’s gospel and is popularly known as the Magnificat. It comes just after a heavenly messenger has told Mary that she is going to bear a son, miraculously conceived within her by the Spirit of God. She then leaves her home and travels to visit her cousin Elizabeth. It seems that Elizabeth is also pregnant in a miraculous and mysterious manner and will give birth to John the Baptist. After being greeted by her cousin, Mary utters the familiar words we heard earlier. These words are based on a much earlier text, the prayer of Hannah, found in I Samuel 2:1-10. It is one of four canticles found in the infancy narrative of Luke.

The part of the myth we’re reflecting on today has to do with the virgin birth, though there are obviously many mythic elements at play here. Stories about virgin births were not uncommon in the first century Greco-Roman world. Rulers such as pharaohs and Caesars had been claiming divine parentage for centuries. I suspect that even back then such assertions were fairly transparent. But the real question is: What’s going on when someone more common, like a Jewish peasant perhaps, has a story told about his or her birth as being of divine origin? Why someone like that?

Campbell helps us to see how the archetypal myth of the hero’s journey, borrowing from the culture specific narratives that were recognizable for those people, reveals the significance of the life, particularly the life journey, it is referring to so that we, too, might embark on our own life journey more alert to the gifts and dangers on the path. For Campbell, the mythic theme of the virgin birth is also about the mystery of being that is born in heart of a properly human, spiritual life.

One aspect of this birth is of the unknown parentage of the child which results in a quest to find one’s true parent/s, one’s true lineage and inheritance. For Jesus this quest leads to a transformative moment when he is baptized by John in the river Jordan and he hears a voice saying to him, “You are my beloved with whom I am deeply pleased, this day I have begotten you.” Now his ministry can begin, now he can face the dangers of the dessert and realize his true calling and purpose. What has been a mystery since his birth is now revealed to be a gift of God and a guidepost for the journey.

Moses has a similar mythic motif in his story. Remember how he is placed in the river by his mother and found by the daughter of Pharaoh? Raised in Pharaoh’s court he does not realize his true parentage until after his journey has led him up into the mountains to a burning bush and a return to Egypt with a renewed understanding of his mission and purpose in life. This story, it seems, was based on an earlier account of the birth of King Sargon. These mythic themes keep reappearing is the stories and legends about exceptional people because, on some level, it is the story of all of us.

Mary’s Magnificat proclaims that “from now on every generation will call me blessed.” The real surprise here is that God is blessing a most unlikely person. A young peasant woman in the tiny hamlet of Nazareth in rural Galilee is given a most unlikely honor. Poor, hard-working with a family to feed, she gives birth to a child who will one day embark upon a hero’s journey. Before this birth has even occurred Luke tells us what this myth is about: the lowly are exalted and the exalted made low, the hungry enjoy a feast while those who are too rich to know their own need are turned away empty, and a Jewish peasant woman who regard herself with no more status than a first-century slave rejoices to bring an ancient promise to birth: the wholeness, wisdom and love of the divine.

If we will allow ourselves to enter into this myth we too, shall find ourselves blessed to bring to birth in our own lives a unique expression of love and wisdom. Thanks be to God for the myth and the mystery of this birth.