Tonight, like last night, I’m recycling old material. DON’T JUDGE ME! I’m coming down with a cold.
No, wait. Nowadays what we say is, “I’m coming down with a cold,I hope.”
Feels like a cold, anyway. First time I’ve gotten sick in quite a while. I think I got through the whole pandemic thing without a day in bed.
Anyway, I know I’ve posted this before – sometime. But this is Sissel Kyrkjebø just as she was becoming a celebrity in Norway. About the time she released her Christmas album, also called “Glade Jul,” (the Norwegian version of “Silent Night”). Pretty much everybody in the country bought a copy. Plus at least one lovestruck American guy living in Florida at the time.
I’ve been writing for this blog so long that I think I can probably reanimate some of my old post topics. A search of our archives shows that it was in 2010 that I last wrote about the Christmas hymn, “It Came Upon the Midnight Clear.” I’m not going to denounce it. In fact, I kind of love it. But it’s not really a Christmas hymn. It’s more of a Christmas song, like “The Christmas Song” (the Chestnuts one, you know) or “Silver Bells.” Because it’s not about Jesus, and was never intended to be.
The putative hymn was written by Edmund H. Sears, a sensitive-minded Unitarian minister who worked in Toledo for a while, before suffering a breakdown (perfectly understandable, under the circumstances). In time he ended up serving a church in Wayland, Massachusetts. He wrote “It Came Upon the Midnight Clear” in 1849, and it was published with a tune by Richard Storrs Willis in 1850. His motivation seems to have been his depression over the Mexican War, which raised considerable opposition in the country (Lincoln famously voted against the war, and lost his seat in Congress because of it).
The hymn goes:
It came upon the midnight clear,
That glorious song of old,
From angels bending near the earth
To touch their harps of gold;
"Peace on the earth, good will to men
From heaven's all-gracious King" –
The world in solemn stillness lay
To hear the angels sing.
Still through the cloven skies they come
With peaceful wings unfurled,
And still their heavenly music floats
O'er all the weary world;
Above its sad and lowly plains
They bend on hovering wing,
And ever o'er its Babel-sounds
The blessed angels sing.
But with the woes of sin and strife
The world has suffered long;
Beneath the angel-strain have rolled
Two thousand years of wrong;
And man, at war with man, hears not
The love-song which they bring; –
Oh hush the noise, ye men of strife,
And hear the angels sing!
And ye, beneath life's crushing load,
Whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way
With painful steps and slow,
Look now! for glad and golden hours
Come swiftly on the wing; –
Oh, rest beside the weary road
And hear the angels sing!
For lo! the days are hastening on
By prophet bards foretold,
When with the ever circling years
Comes round the age of gold;
When Peace shall over all the earth
Its ancient splendors fling,
And the whole world give back the song
Which now the angels sing.
Do you notice something missing in this so-called “Christmas Hymn?” It says nothing about Jesus. Not a word. You’ve got angels and peace, which hearken back to Luke’s account of the Nativity (verses 8-14):
And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,
Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.
So you’ve got the angels and you’ve got the peace, demonstrating that the poet had Christ’s birth in mind. So why didn’t he mention Christ Himself?
Because he was a Universalist. He didn’t really think Jesus was that important. He believed Jesus simply represented a universal principle of peace and love, which gives us hope for a coming time (“the age of gold”) when Mankind will have evolved to the point of outgrowing war.
In many more orthodox hymnbooks, the words have been altered a little. The changed lyrics substitute “the time foretold” for “the age of gold.” And they say “the new Heaven and earth shall own the Prince of Peace their King,” instead of “when Peace shall over all the earth its ancient splendors fling.” I don’t generally care for meddling with original texts, but I like those changes just fine.
Still, the hymn still leaves me a little melancholy.
Beautiful, though.
I looked for a good video of the hymn/song to embed above. But everybody had to get cute with it one way or another (worst are the English, who use the wrong tune!). So I had to settle (yet again) for the Heretic Tabernacle Choir. Which is kind of appropriate, I guess.
Frittering. I’ve been sitting here frittering like a River City school boy at a pool hall. It often goes this way, even when I have a good idea to write about. This time I didn’t have a good idea, so let’s share some links.
Machen’s Classic Book: “On topic after topic, Machen demonstrates liberalism’s misunderstanding of the enormity of sin: ‘If sin is so trifling a matter as the liberal Church supposes,’ Machen writes, ‘then indeed the curse of God’s law can be taken very lightly, and God can easily let by-gones be by-gones.’ But if God is holy and sin is as the Bible describes it, the state of the sinner is desperate.”
It’s been a few years, I think, since I’ve mentioned the Sankta Lucia celebration. “Sankta Lucia” is Saint Lucy of Syracuse, a virgin martyr of the early church. A Sicilian legend says that once when there was famine, ships appeared in the Syracuse harbor on St. Lucia’s Day, loaded with grain. Thus there came to be a tradition of eating whole grains on December 13. Somehow this tradition evolved in Scandinavia (especially in Sweden) into eating a particular kind of bun on that day. The girls of a household would rise early, prepare the buns, and then march in procession, led by one girl portraying Lucia, wearing a crown of candles (Lucia means light, after all), and wearing a red sash to symbolize martyrdom. They would sing a version of the Italian Santa Lucia song (as above) and serve the buns for breakfast, to general celebration.
It’s a lovely tradition (I’ve observed recreations a few times) and seems to be gaining in popularity even in these secular times.
One thing I love about it is the fact that it’s a revival of tradition. In spite of the growing hostility to Christianity in our culture, genuine beauty still appeals. That’s worth remembering, even if we Protestants are forced to do some borrowing from the Catholics (that’s less a problem for me as a Lutheran than for some). But maybe we need to question the emphasis on stark simplicity in our worship. We seem to have won the argument over pomp and ceremony so well that many churches have proceeded to embrace pure ugliness. And ugliness ages poorly.
I’ve been thinking about art recently, for reasons I won’t go into here. It seems to me that – though there are many ways to divide up the world – one way we can categorize people today is by whether they are pro-beauty or anti-beauty. As far as I can observe, the Progressive movement has turned aggressively anti-beauty. Our side isn’t necessarily pro-beauty, but I think we ought to make that an issue.
O Come, All Ye Faithful, performed by Luther Vandross
This is one of the best Christmas songs ever and worthy of singing year-round. “O Come, All Ye Faithful,” was written in Latin as Adeste Fideles by English Catholic musician John Francis Wade (1712-1786) and translated by Anglican convert to Catholicism Frederick Oakeley (1802-1880).
This song has been recorded so often you may already have a favorite rendition, but I offer these two performances to you for your edification.
“And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them” (Luke 2:20 ESV).
O Come, All Ye Faithful, performed by Voctave
1 O come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant, O come ye, O come ye to Bethlehem! Come, and behold Him, born the King of angels!
Refrain: O come, let us adore Him; O come, let us adore Him; O come, let us adore Him, Christ, the Lord!
2 God of God, Light of Light, lo, He abhors not the virgin’s womb; very God, begotten not created; [Refrain]
3 Sing, choirs of angels; sing in exultation; sing, all ye citizens of heav’n above! Glory to God, all glory in the highest![Refrain]
4 Yea, Lord, we greet Thee, born this happy morning; Jesus, to Thee be all glory giv’n! Word of the Father, now in flesh appearing! [Refrain]
Above, the folk song “Ormen Lange” (The Long Serpent). I think I’ve posted versions of this song a couple times previously, but in each case they were more authentic than this one. I believe the song itself derives from a Faroese chain dance song, and the original song structure is a little foreign to Americans. This version was recorded some years back by a Norwegian folk group called the Wanderers, who dumbed it down a little, making it something I personally enjoy a little more.
And why do I post yet another version of a song I’ve already bored you with (at least) twice? Because it’s about King Olaf Trygvesson and his long ship, and he was Erling Skjalgsson’s brother-in-law, and this post is my public announcement that this past Saturday, I completed my (apparent) life’s work. At least in first draft. I finished the job of getting the essential story of The Baldur Game all down on paper. Or screen. In written form, in any case. There’s lots of revising and reviewing and rewriting to do yet, but the story is tentatively finished. I know how it comes out. I’ve typed END at the end.
The author is generally the last to know whether a story is any good, of course. But I’m pleased. This is, I think, the book I always wanted to write.
If I have not created deathless art, I have at least realized my delusion, like a mad scientist in a B movie.
Our first hymn of the advent season is the Latin version of O Come, O Come, Emmanuel. These words have been traced to the eighth century when the medieval church chanted ‘O’ Antiphons during Vespers on the final days of advent. At least, that’s when they were established in church liturgy. There is a bit of evidence suggesting they were prayed or chanted before that. The tune we use is from a Requiem Mass in a fifteenth-century French Franciscan Processional.
The English words we’re familiar with come from Englishman John M. Neale in 1851. I have copied the words sung below the next video, showing a processional in the Basel Cathedral of Switzerland.
“Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel” (Isaiah 7:14 ESV).
Veni, veni Emmanuel; Captivum solve Israel, Qui gemit in exilio, Privatus Dei Filio.
Refrain Gaude! Gaude! Emmanuel, Nascetur pro te, Israel!
Veni o Jesse virgula! Ex hostis tuos ungula, De specu tuos tartari Educ, et antro barathri. Refrain
Veni, veni, O Oriens; Solare nos adveniens, Noctis depelle nebulas, Dirasque noctis tenebras. Refrain
Veni, Clavis Davidica! Regna reclude caelica; Fac iter tutum superum, Et claude vias inferum. Refrain
For the final hymn this month, we have another adaptation of a psalm from the 1912 Psalter. “How Good It Is to Thank the Lord” is taken from Psalm 92:1-9, 12-15. The tune is called St. Petersburg by Ukrainian composer and harpsichordist Dimitri Stepanovitch Bortniansky (1751-1825).
“For you, O LORD, have made me glad by your work; at the works of your hands I sing for joy” (Ps. 92:4 ESV).
1 How good it is to thank the Lord, and praise to you, Most High, accord, to show your love with morning light, and tell your faithfulness each night; yea, good it is your praise to sing, and all our sweetest music bring.
2 O Lord, with joy my heart expands before the wonders of your hands; great works, Jehovah, you have wrought, exceeding deep your ev’ry thought; a foolish man knows not their worth, nor he whose mind is of the earth.
3 When as the grass the wicked grow, when sinners flourish here below, then is there endless ruin nigh, but you, O Lord, are throned on high; your foes shall fall before your might, the wicked shall be put to flight.
4 The righteous man shall flourish well, and in the house of God shall dwell; he shall be like a goodly tree, and all his life shall fruitful be; for righteous is the Lord and just, he is my rock, in him I trust.
Today’s hymn of God’s sustaining faithfulness is an adaptation of Psalm 30 from The Psalter (1912). The Trinity Hymnal arranges the text to a tune by the great Irish-Italian composer Arthur Sullivan (1842-1900). It may be more commonly sung to another tune by Arthur Sullivan, but I stuck with the hymnal beside me and found the tune performed in the video here.
“I will extol you, O LORD, for you have drawn me up and have not let my foes rejoice over me” (Ps. 30:1 ESV).
1 O Lord, by grace delivered, I now with songs extol; my foes you have not suffered to glory o’er my fall. O Lord, my God, I sought you, and you did heal and save; you, Lord, from death did ransom and keep me from the grave.
2 His holy name remember; you saints, Jehovah praise; his anger lasts a moment, his favor all our days; for sorrow, like a pilgrim, may tarry for a night, but joy the heart will gladden when dawns the morning light.
3 In prosp’rous days I boasted; unmoved I shall remain; for, Lord, by your good favor my cause you did maintain; I soon was sorely troubled, for you did hide your face; I cried to you, Jehovah, I sought Jehovah’s grace.
4 What profit if I perish, if life you do not spare? Shall dust repeat your praises, shall it your truth declare? O Lord, on me have mercy, and my petition hear; that you may be my helper, in mercy, Lord, appear.
5 My grief is turned to gladness, to you my thanks I raise, who have removed my sorrow and girded me with praise; and now, no longer silent, my heart your praise will sing; O Lord, my God, forever my thanks to you I bring.
Today’s hymn of God’s everlasting grace could benefit from faster singing. The recording here is standard for hymn singing over the last several decades, but we don’t have to stick to its tempo. Speed it up by a quarter or more, and it will feel much more joyful.
The text is adaptation of Psalm 40 by the writers of The Psalter, 1912. The tune was written by Sir Joseph Barnby of London (1838-1896).
“He put new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God. Many will see and fear, and put their trust in the LORD.” (Ps 40:3 ESV)
1 I waited for the Lord Most High, and he inclined to hear my cry; he took me from destruction’s pit and from the miry clay; upon a rock he set my feet, and steadfast made my way.
2 A new and joyful song of praise he taught my thankful heart to raise; and many, seeing me restored, shall fear the Lord and trust; and blest are they that trust the Lord, the humble and the just.
3 O Lord my God, how manifold your wondrous works which I behold, and all your loving, gracious thought you have bestowed on man; to count thy mercies I have sought, but boundless is their span.
4 Before your people I confess the wonders of your righteousness; you know, O Lord, that I have made your great salvation known, your truth and faithfulness displayed, your loving-kindness shown.
5 Withhold not now your grace from me, O Lord, your mercy let me see, to me your loving-kindness show, your truth be still my stay; let them preserve me where I go, and keep me ev’ry day.
6 Let all who seek to see your face be glad and joyful in your grace; let those who your salvation love forevermore proclaim; O praise the Lord who dwells above, and magnify his name.
