Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. My greeting to you (I probably won’t be posting tomorrow) is this number from Sissel, a Danish hymn by Hans Adolph Brorson. Mitt Hjerte Altid Vanker has an earlier Danish melody, but this Swedish tune has become more popular, for reasons that will be apparent when you hear it.
It’s in Norwegian, of course, so I’ve gone to the trouble of translating the verses Sissel sings here for you. There are in fact 11 verses, but only 3 are used here. This version does a little mixing, combining lines from two different verses (and out of order too!) at the end.
But it works.
My heart is e’er returning There where my Lord was born; My thoughts forever yearning In wonder at that morn: My longing finds its home there, My treasure gleaming bright -- My faith finds rest alone there, That blessed Christmas night!
But ah! How to express it,
Things wisdom cannot know,
That God – no soul could guess it
Would e’er descend so low:
That He, the praise of Heaven,
The great eternal Word,
Into a stall was given
Our humble, infant Lord.
Oh come! My soul is sighing
Your work in me begin!
To Heaven’s heart I’m crying,
Come, Lord, and enter in! –
My heart, your blood has bought it,
It is no alien ground –
In flesh you came and sought it
Be here forever found!
I seem to be thinking of old carols this Advent season, so today I figured I’d look at a genuinely old carol (as opposed to that counterfeit antique, Wenceslas, that I covered a few days ago). I’m thinking here of God Rest You Merry, Gentlemen. According to Wikipedia, we know of an early version of this carol from the 17th Century, though the version we sing today comes from an 1833 collection produced in England by William Sandys.
Now right off, I find myself on the wrong foot about some of the words. I’ve always sung it as “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen” (more about the comma placement below). But according to the Wikipedia article, “In fact, ye would never have been correct, because ye is a subjective (nominative) pronoun only, never an objective (accusative) pronoun.” I, with my rough-and-ready workman’s grasp of English grammar, had no clue about this. (Oddly, the title on the YouTube clip above has it wrong, but the sing-along lyrics get it right.)
The most common misunderstanding about the song has to do with the meaning of the words, “God rest you merry, gentlemen.” Modern people assume the comma should go after you – “God rest you, merry gentlemen,” with “merry” describing “gentlemen.” But that’s because we’ve forgotten the idiomatic phrase, “rest you merry.” Shakespeare uses it in a couple of his plays, “As You Like It,” and “Romeo and Juliet.” It originally meant “God rest you [grant you to be] merry [peaceful and happy].”
Personally, I’ve been needing a little comfort and joy lately. One week ago tonight (Friday), my friend Gary Anderson passed away after a long illness. Gary was a founder and longtime central figure in my Viking reenactment group (that’s him on the right with me in the photo above). He was sort of a walking photo opportunity, an artist’s dream of a Viking, our most public face and voice.
He was a wounded and decorated Vietnam combat veteran. He was a professional Santa Claus in season, for many years. He was a dyslexic who taught himself to read. He came on strong, rather frightening me when I first met him, but he proved to be a stalwart and faithful friend. Another friend and I visited him a couple times during his last months, the final time about three weeks ago. Death is Grendel, a mighty foe, but it had to beat him to the ground before it took him. He never gave up. He went out as befits a Christian Viking.
Tonight, because it’s not Christmas without a few hymns from Sissel, we have Glade Jul, the Norwegian version of “Silent Night.”
The Norwegian translation does an interesting thing with the lyrics. It pulls the whole story into the present – or pulls us into the past, back to the first Christmas. The Norwegian lines of the first verse go (more or less, my translation):
Happy Christmas, Holy Christmas. Angels descend unseen. Hither they fly, with leaves of Paradise, Where they behold what God has accomplished. Secretly they walk among us; Secretly they walk among us.
Tonight’s Christmas carol ushers us into a historical period in which I’m more or less at home (the early 10th Century, in which my current Work In Progress is set), though not so much as far as the turf is concerned. I’ve always assumed that Good King Wenceslas was a medieval English Christmas song, passed down through generations.
And that’s just what its author intended. The lyrics were in fact written in 1853 by an Englishman named John Mason Neale. This insidious semi-papist was a member of the Oxford Group, that Victorian and Edwardian movement that sought to turn the Anglican Church away from Pietism, back to its Roman Catholic roots. He set out to write a song that would honor a saint, sound medieval, and sing well. The tune he chose was “Tempus adest floridum,” (The Blooming Time Is Here), a 13th Century Latin hymn to spring. It worked brilliantly, and became a classic. I’m fond of it.
So what about the real King Wenceslas (full disclosure – I’m getting all this from Wikipedia. You could do as well yourself, but I’m putting it all in one place for you)? Well, first of all, Duke Wenceslas I of Bohemia (ca. 907-935) was not a king in his lifetime, though the title was bestowed on him posthumously by the Holy Roman Emperor. In spite of all the illustrations you’ve seen showing him as an old man with a white beard, he in fact died very young – before he was thirty, as you’ll see from his biography dates.
Wenceslas’ grandparents were the first Christian rulers of Bohemia. His mother, Drahomira, accepted baptism to marry his father, but apparently her heart wasn’t in it. After his father’s death, his grandmother Ludmila served as regent – until she was murdered by Drahomira, who then went on to persecute Christians. Wenceslas was brought to power in a coup against her.
He spent his short reign struggling against various enemies. The Magyars attacked from the east, and on the West, the Franks, the Saxons, and the Bavarians gave him trouble. He made it a policy to ally his Bohemian church more with Rome than Constantinople.
In September 935, Wenceslas was treacherously murdered by assassins paid by his brother Boleslav “the Cruel,” who had invited him to a feast. Boleslav is said to have delivered the killing blow himself. After Wenceslas’ death, legends of his sanctity spread, and he became patron saint of the Bohemians and Czechs, as he is today. (Saint Olaf of Norway would later follow a similar script.)
One of the Wenceslas legends says that it was his practice to leave the palace every night, accompanied by just one of his chamberlains, and go out, barefoot, to distribute charity to the poor. The carol immortalizes a variation of that story in which they set out on the feast of St. Stephen (Dec. 26) in heavy snow. The chamberlain (“page” in the song) complains that he hasn’t the strength to plow through the drifts any longer (I don’t know if he was allowed to wear shoes on these errands or not), and Wenceslas tells him to just walk in his tracks – and behold, it’s warm enough in those spots to melt the snow, enabling him to proceed in comfort.
“Wherefore, Christian men, be sure – wealth or rank possessing – ye who now will bless the poor Shall yourselves find blessing!”
Which, when delivered by a Christmas caroler, was an obvious hint that it’s cold out here and some hot food – or, even better a hot drink – would be welcomed and pleasing to God.
Tonight, “Away in a Manger.” It’s a Christmas hymn I tend to overlook – because it’s expressly for children and not very sophisticated. In my own personal history, it was the first Christmas carol I ever memorized. I remember (probably erroneously) singing it to my grandmother and an aunt or two (using the melody in the clip above) while riding in a car at night at Christmastime. But I moved on to songs that had more going on under the surface.
When I was a kid, I often heard “Away in a Manger” referred to as “Luther’s Cradle Hymn.” Everybody knew it was a translation from Luther. Turns out it wasn’t, though. Luther did write a Christmas hymn for his children, but it’s called “From Heaven Above To Earth I Come,” and can be found in any Lutheran hymnal. Nothing in his works resembles “AIAM” at all. It is, as someone has pointed out, not his kind of thing. If he’d written it, he’d have thrown in more theology. He was not a man to let a chance to catechize people go to waste. Sentimental he was not.
The origins of “AIAM” are in fact quite mysterious. According to Wikipedia, its earliest known appearance was on March 2, 1882 in the “Children’s Corner” of an anti-Masonic paper called The Christian Cynosure. Within a few months it had appeared in a couple other publications, always identified as “Luther’s Cradle Song.” This is rather perplexing. Somebody actually wrote the thing, but they gave credit to the Reformer. Why?
It’s been suggested (again, I get this from Wikipedia) that it may have originated in a forgotten children’s Christmas play, in which Luther sings the song for his children. Maybe somebody took the script literally, and reprinted it cutting the play’s author out. Nobody seems to have sued for copyright infringement, in any case.
The immortal author Lars Walker refers to “AIAM” in his novel Troll Valley, complaining that, because the song describes “the little Lord Jesus asleep in the hay,” many people draw the erroneous conclusion that hay is stuff for animals to sleep on. This is wrong, because a manger is a feed trough, and hay is for eating and belongs there. What animals sleep on is straw, another agricultural product altogether.
Above, a fine rendition of “The Twelve Days of Christmas” done by Hayley Westenra and some guys I never heard of.
I was thinking about Christmas music today. I’ve posted a number of Christmas hymns here over the years, but not a lot of secular carols. I thought, “I should post a fun, secular Christmas song, and talk about it.” Then I asked, “What is my favorite secular Christmas song?” And I realized I have no idea.
I don’t think of the secular Christmas songbook the same way I think of the hymns. Aside from a couple that I hate (like “Little Drummer Boy,” which I’ve denounced here before), I like them all pretty equally, as familiar, mostly interchangeable elements of the season’s background music. The songs have pleasant associations. I’d date them, but I don’t want to marry any of them.
There’s a story that keeps going around (I haven’t seen it yet on Facebook this year, but I expect it’ll show up) that says the song was originally a super-secret, underground memory aid to help Catholics in teaching their children the catechism, back when Catholicism was illegal in England. This story is completely false, and won’t sustain even a few seconds of dispassionate interrogation, let alone a persecutor’s thumbscrews. (I’m not denying the persecution, though. I can sympathize, even as a Lutheran.)
Let me say this clearly: Two random numbered lists don’t assist each other in any way. Mnemonics mostly rely on matching first letters – as in repeating “Good Boys Do Fine Always” to help one remember the whole notes in the treble clef (or something. I remember the mnemonic, but I’ve forgotten what it’s supposed to remind me of). The gifts in the “Twelve Days” bear no resemblance to the theological points they’re supposed to recall. It’s like saying, “Here’s a list of Holy Roman Emperors to help you remember the state capitols of the US. See, here’s Number One, Charlemagne – he corresponds to Montgomery, Alabama.”
“The Twelve Days of Christmas” is an example of what’s called a “cumulative song” according to Wikipedia (and since this isn’t about politics, I figure I can trust them here). Cumulative songs are songs played as games, where people sit in a ring (ideally) and each person in turn repeats what the previous singers have sung, and then adds an item of their own. The next singer has to do the same, adding yet another item to the list. When someone forgets, they usually have to pay a forfeit, such as being kissed or taking a drink.
Such games used to be popular in the days before electronic entertainment, and I myself am old enough to remember playing such a game (though I forget its title; need a mnemonic here) on a long bus ride to Bible camp in North Dakota.
Such feats of memory no doubt will astonish future generations – and probably a generation or two that’s around now.
Have I mentioned that I used to be able to recite “The Cremation of Sam McGee”?
At that very time He rejoiced greatly in the Holy Spirit, and said, “I praise You, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that You have hidden these things from the wise and intelligent and have revealed them to infants. Yes, Father, for this way was well-pleasing in Your sight. “All things have been handed over to Me by My Father, and no one knows who the Son is except the Father, and who the Father is except the Son, and anyone to whom the Son wills to reveal Him.”
Turning to the disciples, He said privately, “Blessed are the eyes which see the things you see, for I say to you, that many prophets and kings wished to see the things which you see, and did not see them, and to hear the things which you hear, and did not hear them.” (Luke 10:21-24, NASB 1995)
The music at the top is one of the recently discovered pieces that are thought to have been composed by Johan Sebastian Bach, whom I once heard Dr. Oswald C. J. Hoffman describe as “the second greatest Lutheran in history.” I guess there’s some dispute about authorship, but I’ll give it the benefit of the doubt. Bach’s whole ouvre could have been forged by Mendelssohn, and how would I know?
My devotions this morning were on the passage printed at the top of this text. What struck me was how different this speech is from a lot of what the Lord says about discipleship. (Or at least how I perceive what He says.) I tend to go the same way as Jordan Peterson, who is a legalist and is always discussing it in a cautionary way. “Have you really thought about what that means, ‘taking up your cross’?” Peterson asks. “It means suffering. It means dying. Are we really prepared to do that?”
Which is fair enough; He’s quoting the Lord Himself.
But Christ is in an entirely different mode in this passage. He’s looking at these guys He’s chosen – guys He’s chosen for suffering and ostracism and death – and He’s telling them how lucky they are. He’s given (and is giving) them something that outweighs all that suffering and death to such a degree that they’re not even worth considering.
I certainly believe we should talk about – even stress – the cost of discipleship.
But I’m pretty sure I under-stress the joy of the knowledge of Christ. Which is not surprising, considering my personality.
Today’s hymn is another one of English poet William Cowper’s verses. It has been published in only a few hymnals, according to hymnary.org. May your Sunday be brighter for the light of the Scripture.
1 A glory gilds the sacred page, Majestic like the sun; It gives a light to every age; It gives, but borrows none.
2 The Hand that gave it still supplies The gracious light and heat; His truths upon the nations rise; They rise, but never set.
3 Let everlasting thanks be Thine For such a bright display, As makes a world of darkness shine With beams of heavenly day.
4 My soul rejoices to pursue The steps of Him I love, Till glory break upon my view In brighter worlds above.
I have no real excuse for posting something fun and trivial tonight, except…
First of all, I don’t have a book finished for review;
Secondly, everything’s so sad today, and this clip amused me.
Above, a show-stopping number from the musical, “Kiss Me Kate.” The production, in its various manifestations, is a meta-narrative – a musical about a musical. It deals with a fictional musical production of a version of Shakespeare’s “The Taming Of the Shrew.” The producer and star is Fred Graham, played here by Howard Keel. The female lead is Lilli Vanessi, played by Kathryn Grayson. They are divorced, but still cherish suppressed feelings for one another, though each is now involved with someone else. Lilli’s guy is another actor in the play, who owes a large sum of money to a gangster, and has deviously signed Frank’s name to his IOU. The gangster sends two minions to collect from Frank; here they’re played by two of the great character actors of the 20th Century – Keenan Wynn and James Whitmore. Who knew they could dance like that?
(By the way, I have never seen “Kiss Me Kate” in any of its forms, and I get this information from the Wikipedia article. But I’ve long been familiar with the song.)
The lyrics are by Cole Porter, better than which you do not get.
The movie altered the plot somewhat from the stage version, so I don’t entirely understand what excuse they made for having the two goons encourage Frank with this number in the back alley. In the original play, they find themselves onstage alone before the audience, and improvise it.
Does quoting Shakespeare to women actually make a man interesting to them?
A dark day in Minneapolis. I used to live not far from where the atrocity happened. I could say a lot of bitter, partisan, thoughtless things, but best to keep my big mouth shut while people are grieving.
A friend alerted me to the clip above. I know nothing about Holy Groove, but it grabbed me right away. This (in my opinion) just works.
People who know me, know I don’t care much for contemporary Christian music. Based on how the controversy over CCM tends to run, I suppose they assume I don’t like new styles of music.
Nothing could be further from the truth. I have no problem with guitars in the sanctuary. I have no problem with drums in the sanctuary. Saxophones and electronic synthesizers are cool as far as I’m concerned.
My objection is to bland, repetitive lyrics.
May my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth if I ever object to the Psalms. And the blues are so flexible that they adjust to the text with smoothness and elegance.
Websites store cookies to enhance functionality and personalise your experience. You can manage your preferences, but blocking some cookies may impact site performance and services.
Essential cookies enable basic functions and are necessary for the proper function of the website.
Name
Description
Duration
Cookie Preferences
This cookie is used to store the user's cookie consent preferences.
30 days
These cookies are needed for adding comments on this website.
Name
Description
Duration
comment_author
Used to track the user across multiple sessions.
Session
comment_author_email
Used to track the user across multiple sessions.
Session
comment_author_url
Used to track the user across multiple sessions.
Session
These cookies are used for managing login functionality on this website.
Name
Description
Duration
wordpress_logged_in
Used to store logged-in users.
Persistent
wordpress_sec
Used to track the user across multiple sessions.
15 days
wordpress_test_cookie
Used to determine if cookies are enabled.
Session
Statistics cookies collect information anonymously. This information helps us understand how visitors use our website.
Google Analytics is a powerful tool that tracks and analyzes website traffic for informed marketing decisions.
Used to monitor number of Google Analytics server requests
10 minutes
__utmb
Used to distinguish new sessions and visits. This cookie is set when the GA.js javascript library is loaded and there is no existing __utmb cookie. The cookie is updated every time data is sent to the Google Analytics server.
30 minutes after last activity
__utmc
Used only with old Urchin versions of Google Analytics and not with GA.js. Was used to distinguish between new sessions and visits at the end of a session.
End of session (browser)
__utmz
Contains information about the traffic source or campaign that directed user to the website. The cookie is set when the GA.js javascript is loaded and updated when data is sent to the Google Anaytics server
6 months after last activity
__utmv
Contains custom information set by the web developer via the _setCustomVar method in Google Analytics. This cookie is updated every time new data is sent to the Google Analytics server.
2 years after last activity
__utmx
Used to determine whether a user is included in an A / B or Multivariate test.
18 months
_ga
ID used to identify users
2 years
_gali
Used by Google Analytics to determine which links on a page are being clicked
30 seconds
_ga_
ID used to identify users
2 years
_gid
ID used to identify users for 24 hours after last activity
24 hours
_gat
Used to monitor number of Google Analytics server requests when using Google Tag Manager
1 minute
_gac_
Contains information related to marketing campaigns of the user. These are shared with Google AdWords / Google Ads when the Google Ads and Google Analytics accounts are linked together.
90 days
Marketing cookies are used to follow visitors to websites. The intention is to show ads that are relevant and engaging to the individual user.
A video-sharing platform for users to upload, view, and share videos across various genres and topics.
Registers a unique ID on mobile devices to enable tracking based on geographical GPS location.
1 day
VISITOR_INFO1_LIVE
Tries to estimate the users' bandwidth on pages with integrated YouTube videos. Also used for marketing
179 days
PREF
This cookie stores your preferences and other information, in particular preferred language, how many search results you wish to be shown on your page, and whether or not you wish to have Google’s SafeSearch filter turned on.
10 years from set/ update
YSC
Registers a unique ID to keep statistics of what videos from YouTube the user has seen.
Session
DEVICE_INFO
Used to detect if the visitor has accepted the marketing category in the cookie banner. This cookie is necessary for GDPR-compliance of the website.
179 days
LOGIN_INFO
This cookie is used to play YouTube videos embedded on the website.