Editor’s note: This is part of a series, “The Blended Rosary.” Read the intro and part 1 here and read part 2 here.
The Third Mystery:
The Birth of Jesus; The Proclamation of the Kingdom; The Crowning with Thorns; The Descent of the Holy Spirit.
The Third Joyful Mystery finds us kneeling in a familiar place, before the manger scene in Bethlehem. Perhaps familiarity causes us to forget at times the startling unlikelihood of the scene.
For the first time, what was “wrought in secret” in the womb of Mary, now appears in public view. Human eyes gaze upon the face of the Almighty Infinite God, descended from heaven and oh so small, lying now in the lowest and lowliest of cribs—a manger filled with hay, a feeding trough for animals. The angels look in awe upon the King of the Universe, His power hidden and even His tiny human hands constrained by swaddling bands.
His humble parents are without status; they could not even find lodging in the inn. But His eternal Father wills that the joy of the birth of His Son be made known. He sends heavenly hosts to the shepherds keeping watch in the fields—they come and see in tiny newborn features the Face that generations of Israel longed for and sought to behold. He sets a star in the heavens, summoning the Magi from afar.
The Magi from the east see the star as a celestial sign, and come to find the king of the Jews and kneel to adore a newborn baby. They offer Him gifts fit for a king: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Even the wicked fear of Herod is a testimony to the babe’s hidden glory, as Herod recognizes that his own kingship is threatened. He summons all the elders of Jerusalem to find Him, unwittingly giving further witness to the birth of the Everlasting Ruler.
In the Third Luminous Mystery the man Jesus, now fully grown and about thirty years of age, proclaims and reveals the reality and demands of His kingdom. There is a dimension that is public—it is to be proclaimed to and for all, (even the heretofore excluded Gentiles). And yet to some degree it remains mysterious, secret, and hidden.
Jesus proclaims the kingdom often with parables, comparing it often to what seems to be humble and small, even hidden—a seemingly insignificant seed, yeast mixed and hidden in dough, a single pearl, treasure buried in a field. We are to be granted entry into this kingdom also by smallness—by becoming childlike. “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”
Yet there is a power in Him—His miracles heal the sick, deliver from demons, even raise the dead. And He speaks of a coming power—though it does not look like the liberation the Jews have come to expect from their Messiah.
It is this failure to meet expectations that leads, in part, to the Sorrowful Mysteries. Unlike the Magi who recognized royalty in the babe of Bethlehem, the soldiers in the Third Sorrowful Mystery do not recognize the king standing before them. They offer Him nothing but beatings and get Him instead a crown of thorns. Jesus accepts the crown with humility and the innocence of a child: “like a lamb led to the slaughter.”
And yet the crown of the thorns, despite its malicious intent, is another unwitting testimony to the true identity of Jesus. Like the inscription of Pilate on the Cross of Jesus, it reveals the truth: Jesus is in fact, the King of the Jews. Some ironically call Pilate the first evangelist, albeit an unintentional one. When questioned as to why he would do such a thing, he simply stated, “What I have written, I have written.”
In the Third Glorious Mystery, God appears in another new, unexpected and surprising way. This time it is the disciples who receive a crown of sorts. The Holy Spirit descends and flames come upon their heads, as they are given by Jesus His own Spirit, a share in His kingship, and are equipped to proclaim the kingdom message in power.
Thus it is that men and women of no earthly stature—many whose occupations are not even worthy of mention in the Gospels, are given stewardship of the greatest glory and treasure.
On the day of Pentecost, the Gospel bursts forth from the upper room where it was contained and somewhat hidden. On fire with the Holy Spirit, they leave the upper room and begin to preach to the multitudes, baptizing by the thousands. No longer afraid, they carry out the Great Commission—to carry the Gospel to the ends of the earth. They become witnesses, many not just with their words but with their blood.
Father Richard Veras in The Word Made Flesh notes that after the resurrection, the disciples often fail to recognize Jesus when He appears to them. Perhaps, Veras speculates, He is teaching them to recognize Him in new and sometimes hidden ways. Now, after Pentecost, they are invited to see Him in one another.
And just as Mary was Mother at the birth of the Jesus, in a new way she is seen as Mother at the birth of the Church. Father Veras writes:
What must Pentecost have been like for Mary?….She saw all of the Apostles witnessing in a new way. That was John, but he had the life, the energy, the spirit of her Son. It was still Peter, but she recognized in Him the living authority of Jesus.
As we are sometimes amazed when we suddenly recognize the mannerisms of our parents or grandparents in our children or nephews and nieces, how much more profoundly must Mary have recognized her Risen Son in each of the Apostles, and begun to understand what it meant that she was the Mother of the Church. For the one born from her womb was being born again in the world through the flesh of the Apostles. (Word Made Flesh, pp.142-3)
We, too, who are baptized and confirmed, have Christ living within us. Writes St. Paul, “It is not I who live, but Christ who lives in me.”
If we are honest, we may not always recognize Him in such a form and place!
We ask for the grace to always let Jesus be our king and to be living invitations to the kingdom for others.
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Image: James Tissot, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons