Note: There’s some business at the end of the post. Good stuff.

—

God bless our Hymnal Commission.

They worked very hard to ensure the music contained in this collection reflects our theologies, with an eye to expansiveness. I appreciate their hard work – and as I reflected in O Come Emmanuel, I think they often hit the mark.

I’m not just saying that because a member of the commission reads this regularly. (waves hi.) It is true – there are some marvelous choices they make. And from an expansively theological viewpoint, the edits in this beloved hymn are also marvelous.

Angels we have heard on high sweetly singing o’er the plains
and the mountains in reply echoing their joyous strains.

(Chorus)
Gloria, in excelsis Deo.
Gloria, in excelsis Deo.

Shepherds, why this jubilee? Why these songs of happy cheer?
What great brightness did you see? What glad tidings did you hear?

(Chorus)

See him in a manger laid whom the angels praise above;
Mary, Joseph, lend your aid, while we raise our hearts in love.

(Chorus)

And.

I’m not sure why verse two needed to be changed at all; it’s not like we don’t mention heaven elsewhere in the hymnal. Here’s the original verse two:

Shepherds, why this jubilee?
Why your joyous strains prolong?
What the gladsome tidings be
which inspire your heavenly song? [Chorus]

But what I’m really a little sad about is that we had to lose the original verse three, rather than simply include the new verse three; they’re not that similar and then congregations would have had the option to sing the higher Christology v. lower Christology verse. I mean, this is the verse we all grew up on (if you grew up on Christmas carols):

Come to Bethlehem and see
him whose birth the angels sing;
come, adore on bended knee
Christ the Lord, the new-born King. [Chorus]

I mean, I get it – in an effort to remove the language of empire, we needed to get rid of “King” and “Lord” – so I don’t fault the Hymnal Commission really. On the other hand, there’s a wishy-washy-ness here, an approach that says we don’t want to bother anybody with a briefly strong statement of theology, especially when it’s Christian in nature. (I doubt this is what the Commission had in mind – although I suspect they also were wrestling with non-Christians about making these songs accessible.)

So I don’t know. I could – and probably should – let it go. After all, we’ve got a SLEW of these carols to go, many of which have reconfigured lyrics. Some of them are not to my taste, but some of them are. The good news is that we didn’t shy away from including them.

Finally, I should mention that this is one of my favorite traditional carols. I love singing it and have a blast adding harmonies and descants. I don’t mind singing this one on a mid-May morning at all!

—

Two quick bits of business:

1. A huge pile of thanks to regular reader and colleague Oscar Sinclair, who saw that I bemoaned the empty spot on my bookshelf where the last of the Seaburg collections should be – a copy of Celebrating Christmas was in my mailbox yesterday!
2. Because folks are already making appointments and planning events for General Assembly, and because I already had a lot of people sign up to sing with me at GA, I have chosen the winners and am scheduling the days! If you still want to get together while there, send me a note here or on Facebook and we’ll see what we can do.

   Meanwhile, I’m thrilled to say that I’ll be spending my mornings with Monica Dobbins, Lyn Cox, Karen Eng, Marcia Stanard, Katy Carpman, Katie Kandarian-Morris, and Rachael Hayes. I’ll also be catching up with Debra Boyd, Suzanne Fast, and Oscar Sinclair. WHEE!!

What a beautiful lullaby I wish I had known before today.

I feel like a bit of a broken record, but I think my assessment that we go for the carols we know may be right. And now, not only am I sad that I never looked at this one before now, I’m sad it wasn’t in my childhood Christmas repertoire.

This is a gentle folks song – listed as simply “Hispanic” in our hymnal, but further research suggests this is a Mexican lullaby. I have no idea if the translation by John Donald Robb is accurate, as I never studied Spanish; but my study of Latin tells me it’s at least in the ballpark. Perhaps one of my Spanish-speaking readers can add their two cents? I hope the translation is close, because I find there to be a deep sadness to them – a mother wanting to protect her child, knowing the hard harsh world she has brought this child into, vowing comfort and protection in the midst of horror.

Duermete, Niño lindo,
en los brazos del amor
mientras que duerme y descansa
la pena de mi dolor.

(Chorus)
A la ru, a la mé,
a la ru, a la mé,
a la ru, a la mé,
a la ru, a la ru,
a la mé.

No temas al rey Herodes
que nada teha de lacer;
en los brazos de tu madre y ahi’
nadie teha de ofender.

(Chorus)

Oh, sleep now, holy baby,
with your head against my breast;
meanwhile the pangs of my sorrow
are soothed and put to rest.

(Chorus)
You need not fear King Herod,
he will bring no harm to you;
so rest in the arms of your mother
who sings you ‘a la ru.’

(Chorus)

In order to learn it, I went to YouTube, and I found this lovely version from the Santa Fe Desert Chorale, using a harp in the accompaniment. Enjoy!

Apologies for the delay – we had some technical difficulties out here on the Far Fringe. But we’re back!

—

Wow am I a creature of habit.

Thanks to this practice, I’m learning all these new Christmas songs, realizing that I never even bothered to look past the familiar title to the unfamiliar ones. I don’t know why, as a Unitarian Universalist, I wouldn’t be interested in seeing what we have to sing about the season; although I wonder if my “we are gonna celebrate Christmas with all the Jesus-Savior-Miracle language we can get and no one can stop me” attitude – which extends only through the music, by the way – has kept me from looking at carols like this, written by Unitarian Universalist minister Heather Lynn Hanson.

It’s a sweet little lullaby, this one. A nurturing, gentle song without the saccharine sweetness of the Away in a Manger tunes.

Gather ‘round the manger, softly, softly.
See the precious stranger. Sing Allelu.

Simple shepherds greet you, Jesu, Jesu.
Stately magi seek you. Sing Allelu.

Mary gently holds you, softly, softly.
Joseph’s love enfolds you. Sing Allelu.

Through the eons reaching, Jesu, Jesu,
Love’s great lesson teaching. Sing Allelu.

I love its completeness; with a few simple words, it tells the story of that moment. I love that it honors Joseph – I love its sense of import – and I love its sense of intimacy.

In a world that has gotten far too noisy and fraught with palace intrigue, espionage, and political entanglements, it is actually really nice to sing this gentle Christmas carol and be held by “Love’s great lesson.”

When my minister Linda Hoddy retired, I was allowed a chance to take books from her study to fill my own library. I found there a bounty of books on history, theology, pastoral care, and Biblical studies. Scant were the books on worship and the many meditation and prayer books, but even there I got a few. About a year later, when Linda decided she really wasn’t going back into the pulpit (something that changed last year when she accepted a position as a very part time minister of a small fellowship in Connecticut), she brought me a couple of boxes full of those meditation manuals, books of prayers, and other assorted goodies, including Carl Seaburg’s Communion Book, Celebrating Easter and Spring, and Great Occasions.

But the one book I long admired, the one book I most wanted – his 1983 collection Celebrating Christmas – never made it my way. And I can understand why: this collection, to the best of my memory, was brimming with readings and service ideas, a treasure trove of December delights.

I tell you this, because it is one of Seaburg’s lyrics that we sing today. (We last sang his words in early November, when I wasn’t inclined to do much more than sing and hit publish.)

Technically, it is the lyric written by prolific Irish poet and lyricist Cecil Frances Alexander; according to Hymnary.org, she wrote nearly 400 poems and lyrics, mostly for children. The original lyric humanizes the young Jesus and helps the meaning become more accessible; similarly, Seaburg’s recasting helps put the Christmas story into context and offers a lesson in what it might mean for us.

Once in royal David’s city stood a lowly cattle shed,
where a mother laid her baby in a manger for his bed;
so may we when life turns hard find in love our stay and guard.

Shepherds came to see this wonder, and to kneel in holy awe
at that lowly stable manger where the infant lay on straw;
so may we this happy morn honor every child that’s born.

From afar three magi journeyed to that stable rude and bare,
to pay homage to the infant, offering gifts both rich and rare;
so may we our gifts bestow, whether we be high or low.

In that happy Christmas spirit, hear the angels from on high
sing their ancient salutations: joy’s a gift you cannot buy.
So may we, with heart that sings, share the truth this season brings.

If I loved the tune more (Irby, from that big pile of English Victorian tunes), I’d say it’s the perfect carol for a children’s Christmas Eve service, or for a Lessons and Carols service. That said, this tune just doesn’t do it for me. And while this is our only 8.7.8.7.7.7, it can easily be sung to tunes with 8.7.8.7.8.7, like Julion (Lady of the Seasons’ Laughter) or Westminster Abbey (Sing Out Praises for the Journey, coming in July), both of which seem more suited to the words.

That being said, I do like this carol.

Still wish I had that book, though.

How have I never sung this?

It is such a gentle, delightful lyric (by Howard Box), set to such a delightful little tune (a Hungarian folk song).

Am I the only one who has never included this one in any Christmas anything I’ve done? Is it because we have so many familiar Christmas carols already, I don’t feel the need to reach for a new one? That seems silly when I type it out, although it’s entirely possible. Is it because it feels a bit like a children’s tune? I say that’s a silly reason, and really, a children’s Christmas carol is all the more welcome, to combat the onslaught of magic snowmen and renegade reindeer and questionable presents.

What’s more, its nice to have a Christmas carol that is exceptionally Christmas without being exceptionally “son of God” centered, but rather hope, peace, and tenderness-centered.

Créche flickers bright here, sing by the light here
at night fall, at night fall.
Mother’s here keeping a child who’s sleeping
in the stall, in the stall.

Father’s beside them, sheep nearly hide them.
Angels call, angels call.
Shepherds and sages bow through the ages,
kindred all, kindred all.

Créche flickers bright here, sing by the light here
at night fall, at night fall.
This is our token, by sign unspoken:
peace to all, peace to all.

I just love this little piece. I even love that Box used “kindred all” in the second verse. Not thrilled about “token” – but he really wanted the rhyme, I guess. I should also mention that I love this lyric as compared to his words for Bells in the High Tower. Where that one falls terribly flat for me, this one rings true.

So yeah. I’m a fan. I wish I’d thought to learn it a few years ago, because it would have been featuring prominently in my Christmas Eve services – and who knows when I’ll get to design one of those again.

Meanwhile, we’re in full on Christmas mode here at the Far Fringe…. let’s see if just singing a carol every day makes us as sick of them as we get during the actual season!

Diving right in – I love this hymn. It’s joyful, it’s anticipatory, it’s hopeful.

The lyrics, by 19th century poet Eleanor Farjeon (best known for Morning Has Broken) are a wonderful exploration of the whole earth waiting to welcome the Christ child. Sure, there are two verses missing – but the third verse is not very good and I applaud the hymnal commission for omitting it. The final verse, well, it would have been nice but I get why it’s not in there. Here are the lyrics we have in the hymnal:

People, look east. The time is near of the crowning of the year.
Make your house fair as you are able, trim the hearth and set the table.
People, look east and sing today: Love the Guest, is on the way.

Furrows, be glad. Though earth is bare, one more seed is planted there.
Give up your strength the seed to nourish, that in course and flower may flourish.
People, look east and sing today: Love, the Rose, is on the way.

Stars, keep the watch. When night is dim, one more light the bowl shall brim,
shining beyond the frosty weather, bright as sun and moon together.
People, look east and sing today: Love, the Star, is on the way.

And here are the two omitted verses – first, verse 3, which I am not at all a fan of:

Birds, though you long have ceased to build,
Guard the nest that must be filled.
Even the hour when wings are frozen
God for fledging time has chosen.
People, look east and sing today:
Love, the bird, is on the way.

And verse 5, which I wish was included:

Angels, announce with shouts of mirth
Christ who brings new life to earth.
Set every peak and valley humming
With the word, the Lord is coming.
People, look east and sing today:
Love, the Lord, is on the way.

I do think, if I were to use this to frame a month of Sundays, I’d add in that final verse – it provides a beautiful opening to talk about coming of the Messiah.

And omissions or not, I love this hymn. Again, it’s a perfect marriage of lyric and tune – this time an ancient French carol from Besançon in western France. It is a light, joyful tune, with joyful lyrics. And while Advent is often a time of quiet anticipation, there’s a joyfulness in the waiting for this gift…we’re not waiting for the world to end, we’re waiting for the world to be reborn.

And that’s worth singing joyfully about.

—

The image is of the old city of Besançon, on the Doub River in France. Looking east, of course.

 

 

We have seen recast lyrics before, but this section of Advent and Christmas songs will include some of the most obvious-to-us recasts, for those who grew up listening to Christmas carols on the radio, in shopping malls, and on albums.  In some cases, the changes feel conciliatory, in order to make some folks more comfortable. But in others, they are beautiful and bring a new or stronger meaning to the carol. So that we can compare, I’ll include “original” lyrics as well – although what is original is always up for grab with songs like this. But I’ll do my best. (Unless they seem far off from my memory, I’ll use lyrics from hymnary.org.)

Anyway, I consider this one to be in the beautiful with stronger meaning category. This carol finds it origins as early as the 9th century as a lush Latin text that was turned into an English lyric in the 19th century by John Mason Neale, and then set to an 11th century Franciscan plainsong chant.

Neale’s lyric begins familiarly, like this:

O come, O come, Immanuel,
and ransom captive Israel
that mourns in lonely exile here
until the Son of God appear.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Immanuel
shall come to you, O Israel.

…and continues for a total of seven verses, most of which highlight the prophesies found in the Old Testament and expounding on the names for the Messiah:

“Emmanuel” (Isaiah 7:14, Mt 1:23) means “God with us”
“Adonai” (Exodus 19:16) is a name for God, the giver of the law
“Branch of Jesse” (Isaiah 11:1) refers to Jesus’ lineage
“Oriens” (Malachi 4:2, Luke 1:78-79) is the morning star or daystar
“Key of David” (Isaiah 22:22) again refers to Jesus’ lineage

Our version expands the scope beyond the children of Israel to all people, grounded in the Universalist understanding that hope and salvation is for all souls, and that the appearance of a messiah would bring broader help and healing to us all. I love the expansiveness of this recast, and I don’t find myself upset at all that the particulars are expanded. I believe the intent of the carol remains, and it becomes – for me at least – a richer hymn.

O come, O come, Emmanuel, and with your captive children dwell.
Give comfort to all exiles here, and to the aching heart bid cheer.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come within as Love to dwell.

O come, you Splendor very bright, as joy that never yields to might.
O come, and turn all hearts to peace, that greed and war at last shall cease.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come within as Truth to dwell.

O come, you Dayspring, come and cheer our spirits by your presence here.
And dawn in every broken soul as vision that can see the whole.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come within as Light to dwell.

O come, you Wisdom from on high, from depths that hide within a sigh,
to temper knowledge with our care, to render every act a prayer.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come within as Hope to dwell.

I also find it a lot easier to preach to a Unitarian Universalist crowd. I have used this carol as a frame for an Advent service, which I conducted in four movements. I call it What to Expect When You’re Expecting, and the link goes to the version I led at the First Universalist Church of Southold.

I am a fan. I like the original, but I love our version.

Gentle Reader,

You have had such patience with this practice, knowing that the hymns, sung in order starting in early October, would create some odd seasonal juxtapositions. You’ve read about summer songs in winter, evening songs in morning, happy songs in the darkness following the election. But nothing has prepared us for what’s coming now. Not even a smattering of Hanukkah songs have prepared us for the onslaught that is our Advent and Christmas section.

For the next 34 days (35 if you count our Epiphany song), we will be singing our way from Advent through Christmas. Every single one of them. The ones we love and the ones we hate. The ones we never sang as kids so we never sing as adults. The ones we wish we had known before now. The ones that get stuck in our heads – which will elicit odd glances at the Memorial Day picnic.

Are you ready? Here we go.

Of course we start with Advent, with this delicate lyric by Unitarian minister John Hanly Morgan. It is a sweet invitation, gentle as the falling snow, inviting serenity and love.

Let Christmas come, its story told,
when days are short and winds are cold;
let Christmas come, its lovely song
when evening’s soon and night is long.

Let Christmas come, its great star glow,
on quiet city, parks of snow;
let Christmas come, its table gleam,
love born again: the truth of dream.

And its setting is perfect: this Ralph Vaughan Williams tune ends in anticipation, without resolving its final chord. It holds open musically the thoughts Morgan’s lyrics hold – that something beautiful, gentle, and meaningful is coming, so wait for it….

This is a perfect match of music and poetry, one complementing the other.

And while the other Advent songs in our hymnal are more familiar and more explicit, this is, for me, the perfect song for the season.