Hector Taking Leave of Andromache, Benjamin West

FROM The Everlasting Man by G.K. Chesterton:

Burdened like all mortal things with all mortal sin and weakness, the rise of Rome had really been the rise of normal and especially of popular things; and in nothing more than in the thoroughly normal and profoundly popular hatred of perversion. Now among the Greeks a perversion had become a convention. It is true that it had become so much of a convention, especially a literary convention, that it was sometimes conventionally copied by Roman literary men. But this is one of those complications that always arise out of conventions. It must not obscure our sense of the difference of tone in the two societies as a whole. It is true that Virgil would once in a way take over a theme of Theocritus; but nobody can get the impression that Virgil was particularly fond of that theme. The themes of Virgil were specially and notably the normal themes and nowhere more than in morals; piety and patriotism and the honor of the countryside. And we may well pause upon the name of the poet as we pass into the autumn of antiquity; upon his name who was in so supreme a sense the very voice of autumn, of its maturity and its melancholy; of its fruits of fulfilment and its prospect of decay. Read More »

 THEN shall the lame man leap as a hart, and the tongue of the dumb shall be free: for waters are broken out in the desert, and streams in the wilderness.  And that which was dry land, shall become a pool, and the thirsty land springs of water. In the dens where dragons dwell before, shall rise up the verdure of the reed and the bulrush. 

Isaiah, Chapter 35

St. John the Baptist in the Desert, Lucas van Leyden, 1513

“LET US retire from the world during these next few days; or if that may not be by reason of our external duties, let us retire into the quiet of our own hearts and confess our iniquities, as did those true Israelites, who came, full of compunction and of faith in the Messias, to the Baptist, there to make perfect their preparation for worthily receiving the Redeemer on the day of His appearing to the world.”

— Dom Prosper Guéranger, The Liturgical Year

      FROM New Heaven, New War
–           —- by Robert Southwell, S.J. (set to Benjamin Britten’s Ceremony of Carols)

This little babe, so few days old,
Is come to rifle Satan’s fold;
All hell doth at his presence quake.
Though he himself for cold do shake,
For in this weak unarmèd wise
The gates of hell he will surprise.

With tears he fights and wins the field;
His naked breast stands for a shield;
His battering shot are babish cries,
His arrows looks of weeping eyes,
His martial ensigns cold and need,
And feeble flesh his warrior’s steed.

His camp is pitchèd in a stall,
His bulwark but a broken wall,
The crib his trench, hay stalks his stakes,
Of shepherds he his muster makes;
And thus, as sure his foe to wound,
The angels’ trumps alarum sound.

My soul, with Christ join thou in fight;
Stick to the tents that he hath pight;
Within his crib is surest ward,
This little babe will be thy guard.
If thou wilt foil thy foes with joy,
Then flit not from this heavenly boy.

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WHEN he lay on the cold earth, his Sacred Infancy encompassed all things. He knew all misery and joy. He was infinite power. He was frailty and weakness. His invisible graces, they say, instantly poured forth and fell upon forgotten places. The mystery of pain and the beauty of the stars were clarified. Nothing would ever be the same.

Rejoice. You are close to the true events of that wondrous day.

IN THE BLEAK MIDWINTER

BY Christina Rossetti

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.

Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him, nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away when He comes to reign.
In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.

Enough for Him, whom cherubim, worship night and day,
Breastful of milk, and a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, whom angels fall before,
The ox and ass and camel which adore.

Angels and archangels may have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air;
But His mother only, in her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the beloved with a kiss.

What can I give Him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;
Yet what I can I give Him: give my heart.

MARIA WANDERS THROUGH THE THORN

Maria wanders through the thorn,
Kyrie eleison,
Maria wanders through the thorns,
That was seven years no bloom has born,
Jesus and Maria.

And as with child she passes near,
Kyrie eleison,
And as with child she passes near,
Red roses on the thorns appear,
Jesus and Maria.

[Other fuller translations here and here.]

THE TRUTH FROM ABOVE

This is the truth sent from above,
The truth of God, the God of love;
Therefore don’t turn me from your door,
But hearken all both rich and poor.

The first thing which I do relate
Is that God did man create;
The next thing which to you I’ll tell:
Woman was made with man to dwell.

Then after this ’twas God’s own choice
To place them both in Paradise,
There to remain from evil free,
Except they ate of such a tree. Read More »

[Reposted from Dec. 22, 2021]

ALAN writes:

If you walked up the grand staircase and into the beautiful St. Louis Public Library in downtown St. Louis in December 1966, you perhaps would have seen well-attired library patrons enjoying the library Christmas tree and a concert of Christmas carols, as depicted above.

If you walk into that building today, you will search long and hard for any indication that Christmas is approaching, and you will not find a trace.

Instead, what you will see are hideous mannequins throughout the building outfitted in the most preposterous “garments” you could imagine. It is an “exhibit” called “Rockin’ the Runway,” billed as “avant garde garments” created with “unconventional architectural materials.”

It is, in fact, a festival of absurdities. It has nothing to do with apparel or architecture. It has to do with mockery. Its purpose is to mock beauty, restraint, and tradition—and to mock those things at the same time of year when, in previous decades, precisely those qualities were celebrated and honored in that building in the national and religious holiday of Christmas. Read More »

THE OPERA singer Bryn Terfel sings with great restraint and feeling the gentle, soothing Welsh song “Ar Hyd y Nos,” or “All Through the Night,” often sung at Christmas time. This recording is with the Welsh National Opera Orchestra.

An English translation by A. G. Prys-Jones:

Ev’ry star in heaven is singing
All through the night,
Hear the glorious music ringing
All through the night.
Songs of sweet ethereal lightness
Wrought in realms of peace and whiteness;
See, the dark gives way to brightness
All through the night.

Look, my love, the stars are smiling
All through the night.
Lighting, soothing and beguiling
Earth’s sombre plight:
So, when age brings grief and sorrow,
From each other we can borrow
Faith in our sublime tomorrow,
All through the night.

THE real Trapp Family did not much resemble the Hollywood and Broadway version portrayed in the movie The Sound of Music except that the children loved to sing and Maria von Trapp did too.

The singing siblings were classically-trained vocalists who toured Europe and later the United States in the 40s and 50s. They sang folk songs, madrigals, sacred music and Christmas carols. They also ran one of the first cross-country skiing inns in America from their farm in Stowe, Vermont, still owned by the family. The family’s fortune had been mostly wiped out in a bank failure before World War II so their singing helped support them. They were trained and directed by a Catholic priest, Fr. Franz Wasner, who was nothing like his mercenary and cynical counterpart in the movie, Max Detweiler.

The Trapp Singers were never the sensation that their fictional counterparts were, but they were better singers and they helped preserved the folk music and sweet Christmas songs of their beloved homeland.

[Reposted]

WHEN the Ghost of Christmas Past appears to the hard-hearted Ebenezer Scrooge on the night of Christmas Eve and takes him on a journey back in time, they revisit a party at the warehouse of Scrooge’s former employer, Mr. Fezziwig.

The scene has been played countless times in countless remakes and adaptations of Charles Dickens’ novella, A Christmas Carol. In these interpretations, Mr. Fezziwig, the merchant and money lender, remains fundamentally the same.

Let’s not forget that Christmas Carol is not primarily a tale about Christmas. It’s a story about the idolatry of money and how it transforms society.

Dickens understood that Capitalism was creating an inhuman society. Scrooge embodies an economy that is based first and foremost on the relentless pursuit of money for money’s sake — not for the sustenance of virtuous and happy families. He is a “a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous, old sinner! Hard and sharp as flint… secret, and self-contained, and solitary as an oyster.”

Unsurprisingly, he is a bachelor, too hard-driving for his old sweetheart.

Fezziwig is his counterpart. He stands for economic sanity, a world of independent businesses and family-like commerce — independent of global conglomeration and centralized banking. Sadly, he is later forced to sell out. His former apprentice Scrooge and his equally grasping partner, Jacob Marley, eventually buy everything.

Mr. Fezziwig is light-hearted enough to dance with his employees. He is the paternal employer who treats his workers not as exchangeable commodities but extended family. His warehouse on Christmas Eve is transformed into a festive ballroom, with the good cheer and generosity of Mr. and Mrs. Fezziwig presiding over all. Mrs. Fezziwig is “one vast substantial smile.” When Fezziwig dances with her “a positive light appear[s] to issue” from his calves.

Mr. Fezziwig is everything Scrooge is not. Here is the scene from Stave Two of The Christmas Carol:

Read More »

THE BEAUTIFUL Basque carol “Gabriel’s Message” is based on a hymn first sung some 900 years ago:

The medieval Basque hymn ‘Gabriel’s Message’ tells the story of the Annunciation in the context of Christmas. The worship of heaven and earth conjoin as the chorus repeats the connection between the Blessed Virgin Mary’s unique status as the Mother of God and the desire to honour and praise both her and God.

The Trinitarian presence of God as Father, Son and Holy Spirit is implied beneath the radiant surface of the hymn, in the core of the Annunciation and the impulse to worship. Time—both Chronos and Kairos—weave into playful conjoining throughout the hymn, which tells the story of the Annunciation in a linear way while promising the generations to come and looking to the forerunners of Christ’s arrival, particularly Isaiah. The hymn pierces the darkness with Gabriel’s flaming eyes and snowdrift wings, offering the Feast of the Annunciation as a Christmas promise, redolent with Advent imagery.

The carol is based on a c. 13th-century Latin hymn, Angelus ad Virginem, which probably has a Franciscan origin. Its popularity meant it travelled throughout Europe, and was known in Britain soon after it was written. Indeed, it’s quoted in Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, as part of the Miller’s Tale when he mentions Nicholas the scholar singing it … More

Like many Christmas carols, this has gone through many transformations, has been rediscovered and cherished by different epochs, surviving through the change and upheaval of history.

“Gabriel’s Message” will never grow old. It will never become obsolete, however much it is changed, and that’s because the sublimity it expresses is eternal.

FROM English Folk-Carols by Cecil J. Sharp (The Wessex Press, 1911):

There is, perhaps, no branch of folk-music in the creation of which the unconscious art of the peasant is seen to greater advantage than the carol. For his peculiar and most characteristic qualities, mental and emotional, are precisely those which in this case are most needed — his passion for simple, direct statement, his dislike of ornament and of the tricks of circumlocution, his abhorrence of sentimentality, and above all his courage in using, without hesitation, the obvious and commonplace phrase, of words or music, when by its means the required expression can most easily be realized. What cultivated musician would dare to set to such words as “The Virgin Unspotted” the graceful, flowing, three-time melody given in this collection, even if he had the luck or skill to think of it? What, again, could be more concise in its diction or clearer in its meaning, than the last stanza in “King Herod and the Cock,” or more vivid than the following lines in “The New Year’s Carol:”

Then Christ He called Thomas
And bid him: Come and see
And put thy fingers in the wounds
That are in my body;
And be not faithless, but believe!
And happy shalt thou be

which will, I venture to think, bear comparison with the parallel stanza of the Easter carol “Ye Sons and Daughters,” translated by Neale.

It is just his transparent sincerity, his freedom from affectation, self-consciousness and conventional restrictions, that makes the unlettered rustic pre-eminently fitted to translate into music and poetry the dramatic incidents of the Christ story. His simplicity disarms criticism; just as his pious, intense, child-like belief in every detail ot the Gospel narrative banishes skepticism. Nor did he trouble himself about the place of performance; village Church or village inn —it mattered not. A tune, so long as it expressed his feeling, harmonized with the sense and fitted the metre of the words, served his purpose wherever and whenever it was destined to be sung.

THE “Huron Carol,” sung here by Heather Dale in Wendat (Huron), French and English, was written in 1643 by St. Jean de Brébeuf, one of the eight North American Martyrs. This is said to be the first carol ever written in America. St. Jean, who was later captured by the Iroquois and tortured to death, adapted a 16th-century French folk song to his Jesous Ahatonnia (Jesus is Born). According to the early missionaries, the Hurons had a great devotion to Christmas once it was introduced and built Christmas chapels out of fir and cedar.

A much different version of the carol can be found here. Read More »