Tag: Christmas

Carols for the Season of Christmas (10) The Tenth Day of Christmas, 3 January

Contextualising our Carols: the work of Shirley Erena Murray

Shirley Erena Murray, of Aotearoa New Zealand, has been one of the most prolific and important hymn writers of the 20th century. One of my favourite quotes from her is “I’m despairing of outdated hymns and songs that are irrelevant to contemporary life and the way we live it”. As you may have guessed, I am right on the same wavelength as Shirley Murray!

Shirley Erena Murray, pictured in 2009

“I choose to write with liberal intent, persuading people to look again at what the Gospels actually say and what new truths can come out of them”, she said. With over 400 hundred hymns written by her over her life, and many of them published in more than 140 collections across denominations, countries and continents—including Together in Song—she is well-qualified to speak about this. “What has nudged and provoked me”, she continued, “are the people I admire who have gone to the edge in terms of taking the gospels seriously and followed the Jesus principles.”

Perhaps her best-known Christmas hymn is surely Star-Child, earth-Child:

See https://musiklus.com/product/star-child/

Another insightful carol reflects the “upside-down” nature of Christmas in the southern hemisphere. It begins:

Carol our Christmas, an upside-down Christmas: /snow is not falling and trees are not bare. / Carol the summer, and welcome the Christ Child, / warm in our sunshine and sweetness of air.

See https://folksong.org.nz/nzchristmas/upside_down_xmas.html

Commenting on how she approaches such seasonal carolling in a 1996 interview, Shirley said: “All our theology in New Zealand is upside down. We don’t have springtime at Easter. Instead, we think of burning leaves and planting bulbs for the spring. We can’t talk about robins and reindeer and snow at Christmas time, which is why I wrote Upside Down Christmas. This explores the images that make sense to us in summertime.” (Peace is Her Song p.137).

Joy Cowley, in her introduction to the 1996 collection that was entitled Carol Our Christmas, wrote: “For this country and its people, the prevailing symbol of the Christmas season is not snow but light. The star that heralds the Christ child in our midst is the sun, and even the sound of its name is symbolic blessing … In this volume of New Zealand carols … not only do the words and the music here reflect Christmas in Aotearoa, they offer us a wide experience of music and rejoicing.” (Peace is Her Song p.115)

In a 2004 interview, Shirley Murray said: “Carols are one of my favourite areas of work, because they are so challenging, not just because I am a southern hemisphere person when Christmas comes. They are the most theologically challenging part of the story for me. Incarnation is much more important than arguing about resurrection; being embodied is more important than talking about where we go hereafter.”

So in “Summer sun or winter skies”, she writes a carol with many of the “classic” carol elements (Christmas, shepherds, angels, silent night, lullabies) but with a potent message for the contemporary world: “silent night a violent night, hawks are in control of a nation’s soul … goodness will outclass the gun, evil has no tooth that can kill the truth”. 

See https://www.hopepublishing.com/find-hymns-hw/hw8388_44.aspx

She continued: “Carols have always posed a lot of questions. How do you relate to what might be called the gaiety and festivity of what Christmas is meant to be and how do you say something about the child in the manger? … I have written about 20 carols and every Christmas, I struggle again to deal with humanity and God and this amazing baby. Carols have kept hustling me, annoying me, making me work on them.” (Peace is Her Song p.114)

So in 2013 she published The Christmas Child is a Troublesome Child, containing the insightful words that this child was “as troublesome as the Word that stirred the waters from the deep … who questions given rule, who flouts convention’s pious face … whose vision takes a thorny path whose cross may be our own”.

See https://musiklus.com/product/troublesome-carol/

Commenting on this carol, Murray observed: “The childhood of Jesus … was surely like any other kid’s. Jesus became very annoying to the system. When you remember that, carols cease to be throw-away, jolly songs, and start to dig at you, to make you worry and wonder what God is saying through this. I sometimes introduce imagery from my own country but generally I write songs that will apply to almost anybody wanting to talk about the Jesus person, not just the Jesus baby.” (Peace is Her Song p.114)

I am going to include the words of a wonderful Epiphany hymn that she wrote in tomorrow’s post in this series. But for today, perhaps a novel way to end this exploration of Murray’s Christmas carols is to offer the words of her Lullaby for Judas (2001). In Peace is Her Song, her grandson Alex specifically notes this hymn, and reflects on how his grandmother “wanted to picture the human experience in its highs and lows, humans as fallible beings, with weaknesses and strengths. She dealt with the light and the dark of human experience—she didn’t gloss over things. She had the courage to confront the difficult topics, I find this particularly inspiring, and it is what makes her reputation so great.” (p.167) 

The child is sleeping sound whose star is yet to rise.
Like any baby born, an innocent he lies,
this Judas child, a happy child, with laughter in his eyes.

The child can never dream the wonders he will meet:
the hungry filled with bread, the bitter lives made sweet,
the friend, forgiving to the end, who sees his heart’s deceit.

The child is sleeping sound who knows no horoscope:
his kiss that will betray, his hand to grasp, in hope,
the money bag, the silver swag, and then, the knotted rope.

An extensive list of the Christmas carols written by Shirley Murray can be accessed at https://www.hymnsandcarolsofchristmas.com/Hymns_and_Carols/Notes_On_Carols/christmastide_carols_of_shi.htm

Unfortunately the hyperlinks no longer appear to be active.

Shirley’s life and contribution to the worldwide church are now told in a biography, Peace is Her Song: The life and legacy of hymn writer Shirley Erena Murray. Written by journalist Anne Manchester, the book draws on rich sources of material, particularly Shirley’s own words as recorded in several audio and video interviews, and published articles.

The book can be ordered directly from New Zealand via the website www.philipgarsidebooks.com or you can order it via Amazon (Kindle $28 or Paperback $60) at https://www.amazon.com.au/Peace-Her-Song-Legacy-Shirley/dp/1991027826

Carols for the Season of Christmas (9) The Ninth Day of Christmas, 2 January

While we are looking into carols for the season of Christmas: what about The Twelve Days of Christmas? This English Christmas Carol, some have claimed, had a pietistic purpose: a kind of sung catechism about the central features of the Christian Faith, put into code by Roman Catholics in England when their faith was outlawed. (One is Jesus, two symbolises the two testaments, three indicates faith, hope and love, four refers to the Gospels, five to the Books of Moses, and so on …)

Nice theory, but there is no evidence at all that this was the case … and the origins of the theory go back no further than a speculation by a Canadian hymn writer in an article published in 1979. (And snopes.com agrees; you can read the detailed rebuttal at http://www.snopes.com/holidays/christmas/music/12days.asp )

The Twelve Days of the #twelvedaysofchristmas technically refer to the days from Christmas Day, the first day of Christmas, through to Epiphany, Twelfth Night. So the song should be sung from Christmas Day onwards. And the gifts that are given each day accumulate until the twelfth night, the evening before Epiphany, when gifts were given to Jesus by the Magi visiting from the east. 

Professor Bruce Forbes writes that “In 567 the Council of Tours proclaimed that the entire period between Christmas and Epiphany should be considered part of the celebration, creating what became known as the twelve days of Christmas, or what the English, called Christmastide. On the last of the twelve days, called Twelfth Night, various cultures developed a wide range of additional special festivities. The variation extends even to the issue of how to count the days.” (Christmas: A Candid History, 2008, p.27).

Forbes also notes that there are divergent chronologies at work in different parts of the church: “If Christmas Day is the first of the twelve days, then Twelfth Night would be on January 5, the eve of Epiphany. If December 26, the day after Christmas, is the first day, then Twelfth Night falls on January 6, the evening of Epiphany itself.”

There’s a suggestion that The Twelve Days of Christmas song was originally sung in French . . . or, at least, that the line for the First Day originally included both French and English terms for the bird; thus, “partridge” (in English, and then in French, “perdrix” (pronounced per-dree) . . . which makes no sense, really; but this is a Christmas Carol, and such songs don’t really have to make sense, do they?

On the Second Day, two turtledoves are to be given. But for what purpose? Since this song relates to Christmas, can we assume that there is some religious or spiritual significance with this gift??

Turtle doves could be offered as a sin-offering (Lev 5:7). Is this why they were given? Or perhaps, as the alternate offering for a poor woman, seeking  purification after giving birth (Lev 12:8)? This at least links in to the Christmas story (at Luke 2:24), which is what the song is supposed to be about! But it does seem like a long shot …

So, what about as a guilt-offering when cleansing a leper (Lev 14:22)? Or maybe for a Nazirite who has touched a corpse (Num 6:9)? Or as a means of cleansing after sexual discharge (Lev 15:14)? Or maybe the text is multivalent, and we are supposed to bring all of these allusions to mind. Because we know our Bible so well. And we know this is meant to be symbolic. Eh?

Next, on Day Three, the gift to be given is three French hens. Some suggest they are Faith, Hope and Charity, the key Theological Virtues. But only three? There are actually four types of French Hens (Faverolles, La Fleche, Crevecoeurs and Marans). So do we know which one of the four missed out on its moment of glory in this Christmas carol? It’s a worry.

On Day Four, four birds form the gift. Ah, but what type of birds? Calling birds? So you might think. But older versions of the song identify them as Colly Birds. Which are … …??? A colly bird is a black bird. A coal mine is called a colliery, so ‘colly’ or ‘collie’ is a derivation of this and means black like coal. So, no  more whitewashing, let’s sing “four black birds”, and be clear about it, eh?

And … while we are at it … Day Five: Five Golden Rings? But they are surrounded by flocks of birds (swans, geese, colly birds, hens de la France, turtle doves, and a partridge). Rings are out of place.  So, it is believed that this verse originally referred not to jewellery but to ring-necked birds such as the ring-necked pheasant. So, let’s now sing: “five ring-necked birds”! Context is everything!

The sixth of the #twelvedaysofchristmas is the midpoint of the 12 days, when we can look back on the story of Christmas (the birth and the shepherds), and forward to the story of Epiphany (the visit of the Magi). The gift for the Sixth Day focusses on new life: six geese a-laying.

It is said that, while chickens lay eggs regularly (usually each day ), geese only lay 30-50 eggs a year. This means they are a less productive bird to keep. It takes longer to increase the size of the flock for meat production. And their eggs are very high in cholesterol. Was this a wise gift? (Of course, you may well score the goose that lays the golden egg.)

On Day Seven, the gift is seven swans a-swimming. Well, yes; that’s what swans do.  But who in their right might give this as a gift? Where would they all be put so that they could keep swimming? In a huge bathtub? This is quite unrealistic. Anyway, I guess it proves that the carol was not written by a football-mad fanatic. (They would have had swans kicking goals.)

On Day Eight, we are exhorted to give eight maids a-milking. In older English, to “go a-milking” could mean to ask a woman for her hand in marriage; OR to ask a woman to go “for a roll in the hay”, as it were. Is this Christmas carol concealing a reference to illicit sexual encounters? And does that make it more interesting than just getting some milk in order to make some cheese?

Today is Day Nine. The gift is nine ladies dancing. Liturgical dances, I presume? In explore the significance of these ladies, I am somewhat stumped. Any clues, anyone?

Meanwhile, I am starting to compile my list of ‘not relevant downunder’ secular Christmas carols. Because here, in Australia, we are in the midst of summer—not winter, as all the upover northern hemisphere Christmas songs assume. So, not relevant to downunder would include: Anything with snow, for a start.  And bells.  And holly.  And fir trees. And … well, the possibilities are endless.

Tomorrow, on Day Ten, the gift is to be ten Lords a-leaping.  Alliteration, indeed; but why leaping? Perhaps there is a textual transmission problem here. Maybe it should be: Lords a-leasing? (what to do with their huge old castles and manors)? Or Lords a-sleeping? (in the upper chamber of the British parliament)? Or perhaps Lords a-weeping? (at the decline of their much- loved aristocratic powers). Who knows?

Then comes the eleventh day of (the season of) Christmas. With eleven pipers piping. So perhaps this comes from a Scottish variant (like day one comes from the French version). Perhaps the Scots packed their song full of food? In this, the gifts would include twelve alka seltsers, eleven Blue Lagoons, ten creme de menthe, nine vodka and limes, eight nips of whisky, seven rum and cokes, six Carlsberg specials…you get the picture? (Yes, I know, this is becoming quite speculative!!)

Or — does the Scottish reference (bagpipes) mean that I should refer to the crackpot theory that this whole carol was a coded reference to the right of Bonny Prince Charlie to regain the British throne? Yegods … … 

But I do note that, in other versions, there are eleven ladies spinning, eleven ladies dancing, eleven lads a-louping, eleven bulls a-beating, and eleven badgers baiting!! Make of them, what you will. 

Finally, we will arrive at the ultimate (last) of the #twelvedaysofchristmas. Day Twelve. Twelve drummers drumming. Since the gifts are cumulative, and repeated on each day, on Day Twelve we actually have drummers drumming, along with piping pipers, leaping lords, bleating cows, tapping toes, shuffling shoes, a horde of aviary escapees, and the whole schemozzle. It’s all too loud, I think — and the incessant fights amongst all those squawking birds! Oh dear; time for a doze, instead.  

The evening of this twelfth day will, quite obviously, be Twelfth Night. What follows that is Epiphany, a day to celebrate the coming of the magi to the infant Jesus. Time, indeed, to rest.

Carols for the Season of Christmas (7) The Seventh Day of Christmas, 31 December

I guess those with diligent true loves are busy, today, trying to feed the seven partridges, twelve turtle doves, fifteen French hens, sixteen colly birds, twelve laying geese, and seven swimming swans that their true loves have delivered to them (thus far) to commemorate the twelve days of Christmas. And I hope they have their fifteen gold rings locked away securely!

For my part, I am offering a further carol for The Season of Christmas: another one from the early centuries of Christianity, when theologians wrote the words of songs for the faithful to sing—thereby providing them with meaty teaching in the faith (at least as they understood it). Today, it is one by the forth century theologian Ambrose, who was Bishop of Milan from 374 until his death in 397.

Four Doctors of the Church
Four panels from a partially-preserved polyptych, dated c. 1495, and attributed to Galleria Franchetti, Ca’ d’Oro, Venice

Amongst the western church, dominated by Roman Catholicism, Ambrose of Milan (339—397) is counted as one of the four Doctors of the Church, along with his contemporaries Augustine of Hippo (354—430) and Jerome of Stridon (342—420). Pope Gregory the Great (540—604) is accounted as the fourth Doctor. All four had the title Doctor attributed to them, in the true sense of the word (it comes from the Latin word for Teacher). 

In the eyes of many theological writers, the fourth century was critical in the development of classic orthodoxy, for this was when the various disputes about the nature of Jesus took place. Those who were leading the theological argumentation—including Ambrose, Augustine, and Jerome—contributed to the development of orthodox dogmas which were confirmed by various church councils: Nicea in 325, Constantinople in 381, Ephesus in 431, Chalcedon in 451, and others in subsequent centuries. 

Those whose arguments failed to persuade—or who were condemned by decree of one of the councils—are known to us as “heretics”; they include Theodotius of Byzantium, Nestorian of Constantinople, Paul of Samosata, Apollinaris of Laodicea, Eutyches of Constantinople, and perhaps most famously of all, Arius of Alexandria. Legend has it that at the Council of Nicea, Arius slapped Nicholas of Myra (the historical figure who later morphed into Saint Nicholas and then Santa Claus) and so was temporarily defrocked and imprisoned. 

Although their writings were instrumental in developing orthodox theology, such men have long been denigrated as heretics—although, in my mind, a number of these “heretics” offered wise and helpful insights. But the verdict of history stands, cemented now by centuries of church tradition and theological dogma. 

Ambrose of Milan

It is in this context of debate, disputation, denigration, and entrenched doctrinal disagreements, that Ambrose penned this carol, Veni redemptor gentium (Come, Redeemer of Nations). It is filled with patristic theologising, reflecting the debates of the day, depicting Jesus as “a giant in twofold substance in one” and “equal to the Father”, whilst also affirming his mother as having “virgin honour all unstained”, a “royal home of purity”. These are the seeds for the theological affirmations about Jesus in some of the much later Christmas carols that we sing today!

Here is the hymn of Ambrose in a translation of the original Latin by John Mason Neale (whom we noted a few days ago provided us with the English of Good King Wenceslas).

1. Come, Thou Redeemer of the earth,

And manifest Thy virgin birth:

Let every age adoring fall;

Such birth befits the God of all.

2. Begotten of no human will,

But of the Spirit, Thou art still

The Word of God in flesh arrayed,

The promised Fruit to man displayed.

3. The virgin womb that burden gained

With virgin honour all unstained;

The banners there of virtue glow;

God in His temple dwells below.

4. Forth from His chamber goeth He,

That royal home of purity,

A giant in twofold substance one,

Rejoicing now His course to run.

5. From God the Father He proceeds,

To God the Father back He speeds;

His course He runs to death and hell,

Returning on God’s throne to dwell.

6. O equal to the Father, Thou!

Gird on Thy fleshly mantle now;

The weakness of our mortal state

With deathless might invigorate.

7. Thy cradle here shall glitter bright,

And darkness breathe a newer light,

Where endless faith shall shine serene,

And twilight never intervene.

8. All laud to God the Father be,

All praise, eternal Son, to Thee;

All glory, as is ever meet,

To God the Holy Paraclete.

Trans. J. M. Neale. 

https://www.preces-latinae.org/thesaurus/Hymni/VeniRedemptorG.html

Closely related to this carol, there is another carol in a 15th century manuscript, the Selden Carol Book, a document which contains music and words for thirty carols of the day. (The manuscript is held in Oxford at the Bodleian Library.)

A page from the manuscript of the Selden Carol Book

This carol, number 28 in the collection, both uses the refrain of Ambrose’s original, and, in verse 3, refers directly to the work by Ambrose. Its author, as with all the carols in the Selden manuscript, is unknown.

Veni, redemptor gencium, Veni, redemptor gencium. 

This worle wondreth of all thynge

Howe a maide conceyved a kynge;

To yeue us al therof shewynge,

Veni, redemptor gencium.

Whan Gabriel come with his gretynge

To Mary moder, that swete thynge,

He graunted and saide with grete lykynge,

Veni, redemptor gencium.

Ambrose saide in his writynge

Cryst sholde be in a maide dwellynge;

To make sothe alle that syngynge,

Veni, redemptor gencium.

And Davyd saide in his spellynge

That truthe sholde be in erthe growynge

To us, byer of alle thynge,

Veni, redemptor gencium.

Cryst, ycrowned at oure begynnynge,

Be with us at oure endynge

Us to thy ioye for to brynge,

Veni, redemptor gencium.

The text is from Richard Greene, The Early English Carols (Oxford, 1977), p.36. A version in modern English is offered at  

http://aclerkofoxford.blogspot.com.au/2013/12/veni-redemptor-gentium-this-world.html

Carols for the Season of Christmas (3) The Third Day of Christmas, 27 December

For today, the Third Day of Christmas, following the church calendar, I offer a Christmas carol which originates in the 4th century. It was written by the Roman poet, Aurelius Prudentius Clemens. Prudentius was a Spanish layman, a lawyer who twice served as a provincial governor. He was also a government official in the court of the Roman Empire, and is remembered as one of the greatest Latin Christian poets. 

For the last period of his life (at least a decade, perhaps closer to two), Prudentius lived as an ascetic, fasting during daylight hours and eating only vegetarian meals. It was apparently during this period that he wrote many books and poems. Among these works was the Psychomachia, an allegorical treatment of “the conflict of the soul” (as illustrated).

Prudentius composed Corde natus ex Parentis, which was subsequently translated into English as “Of the Father’s love begotten”. The translator was John Mason Neale, whom we met yesterday. This hymn stands at the head of the section in Together in Song where we find the Christmas carols/hymns, so it is recognised as an ancient Christmas carol. 

Prudentius, situated strongly within the developing patristic theology, gives expression to the “highest” view of Jesus, as Alpha and fons (source, or origin) and Omega and clausula (ending, or culmination) of the whole creation, existing “evermore and evermore”. 

So the hymn resonates well with the developing credal tradition of the Nicea—Chalcedon-Constantinople stream. And so begins the long trek towards the transcendental, romantically-unrealistic, Christ of Christmas.

  1. Corde natus ex parentis ante mundi exordium

A et O cognominatus, ipse fons et clausula

Omnium quae sunt, fuerunt, quaeque post futura sunt.

2. Ipse iussit et creata, dixit ipse et facta sunt,

Terra, caelum, fossa ponti, trina rerum machina,

Quaeque in his vigent sub alto solis et lunae globo.

3. Corporis formam caduci, membra morti obnoxia

Induit, ne gens periret primoplasti ex germine,

Merserat quem lex profundo noxialis tartaro.

4. O beatus ortus ille, virgo cum puerpera

Edidit nostram salutem, feta Sancto Spiritu,

Et puer redemptor orbis os sacratum protulit.

5. Psallat altitudo caeli, psallite omnes angeli,

Quidquid est virtutis usquam psallat in laudem Dei,

Nulla linguarum silescat, vox et omnis consonet.

6. Ecce, quem vates vetustis concinebant saeculis,

Quem prophetarum fideles paginae spoponderant,

Emicat promissus olim; cuncta conlaudent eum.

7. Macte iudex mortuorum, macte rex viventium,

Dexter in Parentis arce qui cluis virtutibus,

Omnium venturus inde iustus ultor criminum.

8. Te senes et te iuventus, parvulorum te chorus,

Turba matrum, virginumque, simplices puellulae,

Voce concordes pudicis perstrepant concentibus.

9. Tibi, Christe, sit cum Patre hagioque Pneumate

Hymnus, decus, laus perennis, gratiarum actio,

Honor, virtus, victoria, regnum aeternaliter.

The English translation:

(1) Of the Father’s love begotten

Ere the worlds began to be,

He is Alpha and Omega,

He the Source, the Ending He,

Of the things that are, that have been,

And that future years shall see

Evermore and evermore.

(2) Oh, that birth forever blessed

When the Virgin, full of grace,

By the Holy Ghost conceiving,

Bare the Savior of our race,

And the Babe, the world’s Redeemer,

First revealed His sacred face

Evermore and evermore.

(3) O ye heights of heaven, adore Him;

Angel hosts, His praises sing;

Powers, dominions, bow before Him

And extol our God and King.

Let no tongue on earth be silent,

Every voice in concert ring

Evermore and evermore.

(4) This is He whom Heaven-taught singers

Sang of old with one accord;

Whom the Scriptures of the prophets

Promised in their faithful word.

Now He shines, the Long-expected;

Let creation praise its Lord

Evermore and evermore.

(5) Christ, to Thee, with God the Father,

And, O Holy Ghost, to Thee

Hymn and chant and high thanksgiving

And unending praises be,

Honor, glory, and dominion,

And eternal victory

Evermore and evermore.

http://etymologyofhymns.blogspot.com.au/2012/12/of-fathers-love-begotten.html

Carols for the Season of Christmas (1) The First Day of Christmas, 25 December

Today, Christmas Day, is the first day in the season of Christmas. The First Day of Christmas, according to a well-known Christmas song, is to be celebrated with the gift of a partridge in a pear tree, is it not? Subsequent days, we learn from that song, should be celebrated with the gifts of assorted birds, five golden rings, and an assortment of drummers, leaping lords, milkmaids, and more!

For each of The Twelve Days in the ecclesial Season of Christmas, however, I will be thinking about various carols. We most likely have had our fill,of all the traditional carols and songs associated with Christmas in the lead-up to the actual day of Christmas; so I will be offering thoughts on carols, mostly lesser-known or unknown in the modern period, that are appropriate for the Season.

For today, I offer the words of a hymn (a very early Christmas carol) composed in Latin and attributed to the fourth century doctor of the church, Hilary, the Bishop of Poitiers. Hilary was sometimes referred to as the “Hammer of the Arians” (Malleus Arianorum) because of his active role in opposing Arian theology in Gaul, and also as the “Athanasius of the West”.

The carol Jesus refulsit omnium (“Jesus illuminates all”) is dated to 368.  The words in Latin are:

Jesus refulsit omnium
Pius redemptor gentium
Totum genus fidelium
Laudes celebret dramatum

Quem stella natum fulgida
Monstrat micans per authera
Magosque duxit praevia
Ipsius ad cunabula

Illi cadentes parvulum
Pannis adorant obsitum
Verum fatentur ut Deum
Munus ferendo mysticum.

The English Translation below is by Kevin Hawthorne, PhD

Jesus, devoted redeemer of all nations, has shone forth. / Let the whole family of the faithful celebrate the stories. / The shining star, gleaming in the heavens, / makes him known at his birth and, going before, has led the Magi to his cradle. / Falling down, they adore the tiny baby hidden in rags, / as they bear witness to the true God by bringing a mystical gift.

See http://archive.wf-f.org/Hymns-carols.html

A star and some magi, a tyrant and some infants (Matt 2; Epiphany)

Each year, on the Feast of the Epiphany (6 January), we hear the story that is told in the book of origins (the Gospel according to Matthew) about the infant Jesus, the magi who travel with gifts to offer him, and the tyrant Herod (Matt 2:1–12). We usually stop the story before the account of the slaughter of children which Herod orders, and the flight into Egypt which Jesus undertakes with his mother, Mary, and his father, Joseph (Matt 2:13–18).

The much-loved Christmas story, found only in the orderly account of Luke, says nothing of any such high-status visitors to the newborn Jesus. The magi appear only in Matthew’s account. The actual birth of Jesus is mentioned very quickly by Matthew (1:18, 25). By contrast, the dark story of the slaughter of boys aged two and under dominates Matthew’s narrative (Matt 2:16–18). It is in connection with that part of the story that the magi appear.

Adoration of the Magi, detail from a 4th century sarcophagus
in the Vatican Museum

We are not told their names, nor how many they were. They are described as magi, probably meaning that they were astrologers. Only in later church tradition would they be identified as the three men, Caspar, Balthasar, and Melchior. Although Matthew’s gospel does not include the names or number of the magi, many believe that the number of the gifts he notes is what led to the tradition of the Three Wise Men—and, of course, they then needed to gain names (as do many anonymous biblical figures in the evolving church tradition over subsequent centuries).

These magi appear to have come from Gentile lands. They could be seen as exemplars of faithful obedience, travelling far to “adore the child”. But they are very mysterious figures in Matthew’s account. The gifts they bring were valuable items—reflecting a standard of gifts that might be offered to honour a king or deity in the ancient world: gold as a precious metal, frankincense (incense) as perfume, and myrrh as anointing oil.

It is claimed that these same three items were among the gifts that the Seleucid ruler, Seleucus II Callinicus, who ruled for 20 years (246–225 BCE), offered to the god Apollo at the temple in Miletus in 243 BCE. (I found this claim often in online articles, but I can’t trace any of them back to the actual historical source.)

The Three Magi (including the traditional names), Byzantine mosaic
in the Basilica of Sant’ Apollinare Nuovo, Ravenna, Italy

More significant for Matthew, I believe, would be the fact that two of the gifts resonate with a Hebrew Scripture passage, late in the book of Isaiah. Jerusalem’s restoration is portrayed as a time when “nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn” (Isa 60:3); they will “bring gold and frankincense and proclaim the praise of the Lord” (Isaiah 60:6).

The visitors bringing these gifts come from Sheba (a kingdom in South Arabia). The gifts, it is claimed by interpreters, are symbolic of what is to come. The gold is considered to symbolise the royal status of the child Jesus, as he is of the line of David. The frankincense is connected with the Temple cult, and thus considered a symbol of the priestly role eventually to be played by that same child.

The myrrh, in Christian tradition, is linked with the death that will be experienced by the infant when he has grown to maturity—death at the hands of a Romans, who offered him wine mixed with myrrh as he hung dying on a cross (Mark 15:23). This symbolism reveals the reasons for adopting and expanding the earlier oracle.

And the notion that was developed later in Christian writings, that the three magi were kings in their respective kingdoms (as in, “we three kings of orient are”), derives from the application of Isaiah 60:3 , noted above, and Psalm 72:10–11, as the psalmist praises the King of Israel and prays, “may the kings of Tarshish and of the isles render him tribute; may the kings of Sheba and Seba bring gifts; may all kings fall down before him, all nations give him service.”

This is typical midrashic practice, to link up verses from different verses in different books which contain the same key words. It indicates that Matthew is “spinning a yarn”, telling a story, narrating a myth that contains important clues as to the nature and significance of the person about whom the story is told. It is not a factual historical account.

Matthew, who portrays Jesus as the new Moses throughout his Gospel, considers that his mission was solely to “the lost sheep of the house of Israel” (Matt 10:6; 15:24)—and to them alone. The visit of the magi from the East plays a symbolic role in the story. It represents a Gentile acknowledgement of the high role that Jesus will play, bringing to fulfilment the intentions of God for the covenant people. So this element, told very early in the narrative, is simply a literary technique to introduce a key theme which will reach fulfilment in the time well beyond the tale that the narrative offers.

I’m not going to go down the rabbit-hole of trying to identify the actual star that these magi followed (Matt 2:2, 9–10) and correlate it with known astronomical events from the early first century. It’s too complicated and anything I have ever seen requires us to put aside our historical-critical skills and believe in a series of “amazing coincidences”.

Besides, as this post makes abundantly clear, I don’t regard the story found in Matt 2 as in any way historical! It is yet another component of his story which draws heavily from Hebrew Scripture, as befits a Jew writing to Jews. The rising of the star in the east correlates well with the prophet Balaam’s prediction in Num 24:17 that “a star shall come out of Jacob and a sceptre shall rise out of Israel”.

The identification of the star as being “in the east” comes because, in Greek, the word for “east” is the same as “rising”. The Greek translation thus is ambiguous about whether the star simply “rises up out of Israel” or whether it is “to the east” of Israel. We can see this ambiguity if we compare how different recent translations of the Bible render this phrase in Matt 2:9 — “a star they saw in the east” (KJV), “the star they had seen when it rose” (NIV and ESV), “the star they had seen at its rising” (NRSV), “the star they had seen in the east” (NLT).

So this is another element in the story that has been shaped by Hebrew Scripture.

Evidence from beyond the Bible, that the baby boys in Bethlehem were actually slaughtered by Herod’s troops (Matt 2:16), is absent. The story that Matthew presents is grounded, not in history, as we know it, but in the art of story-telling, where recognisable themes and characters are presented in a new, creative combination.

So it is that in the opening chapters of this Gospel, we encounter the pregnant Mary, the newborn infant Jesus, his father Joseph, a bright star in the sky, visitors from the east, the tyrannical rule of Herod, and slaughtered infant boys. Many of these characters and events are “types”, imitations of an earlier story—for in his narrative, Matthew is working hard to place Jesus alongside the great prophet of Israel, Moses.

The early years of Jesus unfold in striking parallel to the early years of Moses. The parallel patterns are striking—deliberately shaped that way by the author of this Gospel, I would maintain. Moses, for instance, was in danger of being killed as a small boy, as the Pharaoh instructed the midwives, “When you act as midwives to the Hebrew women, and see them on the birthstool, if it is a boy, kill him; but if it is a girl, she shall live” (Exod 1:16). The child Moses was rescued by midwives who “feared God; they did not do as the king of Egypt commanded them, but they let the boys live” (Exod 1:17).

Matthew’s account of “the Slaughter of the Innocents” is generated by his Moses typology. This grounds the story of Jesus in the historical, political, and cultural life of the day, when tyrants exercised immense power. But it raises our suspicions about whether this event actually took place. There is no other evidence for it in any ancient writing, apart from Matthew’s Gospel. Can we be sure that it took place? Not by any standard of historical assessment.

Massacre of the Innocents, ca. 1520;
engraving by Marco Dente (1486–1527),
based on a design by Baccio Bandinelli (1493–1560)

(I recognise that some claim that a report by Josephus in book 2 of his account of the Jewish War, about an uprising related to a certain shepherd named Athrongeus, might be telling of this event—except that this took place after the death of Herod, and it took place in Jerusalem, not in Bethlehem, as Matthew’s account maintains. And, of course, Matthew has no shepherds in the story, so the connection is even more diffuse. The search for a parallel account in another ancient source is undertaken in vain.)

We recognise that, in this narrative, Matthew is not reporting an actual historical event; yet his narrative of what allegedly happened to those children does provide a dreadful realism to a story which, all too often in the developing Christian Tradition, became etherealised, spiritualised, and romanticised.

Matthew has Jesus escape this fate by fleeing, with his parents, to Egypt (Matt 2:13–15). Once again, there is no evidence for this journey outside of Matthew’s book of origins, so the story is just that: a story, not an historical account. The Moses typology we have already noted is also relevant here. Matthew emphasises the many ways in which events in the early years of Jesus fulfilled the prophecies found in Hebrew Scripture (see Matt 1:22–23; 2:5–6, 15, 17, 23; and for the adult Jesus, see 3:3; 4:12–16; 12:15–21; 13:14–15, 35).

So many parts of the early life of Jesus as Matthew recounts it are presented in a way that makes them consistent with these prophecies—although one of them (2:23) cannot actually be found in the Bible! It is most likely that Matthew has constructed his story so that it fits with these scriptural prophecies. They provide him with a familiar framework for telling the story.

Only Matthew tells about Herod and his slaughter of the innocents. Such an event is unknown from any other ancient literature. Had it actually taken place, it is likely that it would have been reported elsewhere. This event, together with others in Matthew’s version of Jesus’ early life, mirror the pattern of events at the start of Moses’ life.

With Moses, as with Jesus, there is the slaughter of infant males under 2 years by a tyrannical ruler, and the flight into another country by the boy’s parents, so that the boy is saved. In this way, Matthew presents Jesus as “the new Moses”. That is the key concern that he has in this opening sequence—not providing an historical narrative, but introducing his story of Jesus through the typology of Moses.

See also

Tales from the Magi (the Revelation of the Magi)
Herod was infuriated, and he sent and killed all the children (Matt 2; Christmas 1A)
Herod waiting, Herod watching, Herod grasping, holding power (Matt 2; Christmas 1A)
On the move. A reflection on Christmas.

Born of a woman, born under the law (Gal 4; Christmas 1B)

At this time of the year, as we celebrate the birth of Jesus at Christmas, the beloved story from Luke’s Gospel, with census, donkey, manger, shepherds, and angels, is the dominant biblical text that most churchgoers will hear. Perhaps it is closely followed by the highly-developed theological interpretation that begins John’s Gospel. The Matthean account of the wrath of King Herod and the visit of the Magi has its place, twelve days after Christmas, at Epiphany.

Other biblical passages come a long way behind these Gospel texts. Yet, as I have noted in other posts, the Revised Common Lectionary does provide a series of additional passages, drawn from the psalms and the prophets, as well as the epistles, for worship on and around Christmas. These passages are offered for the Nativity of the Lord as Proper I, Proper II, and Proper III. See

Three Christmas Options: the Revised Common Lectionary at Christmas

Each of these passages provides another way for us to celebrate the Christmas event; they are clearly supplementary rather than primary in their function. As I have sought to explain, the psalms provide celebratory songs, while the prophetic passages offer hope and promise. Alongside these, the epistle passages proposed by the lectionary serve a different function.

It is well-known that Paul makes very little reference to the life of Jesus in his letters. His focus is intently on the death and resurrection of Jesus, rather than the teachings and miracles, parables and exorcisms, debates and disputations, that we read about in the canonical Gospels.

For Paul, it is the twofold statement that “Christ Jesus, who died, yes, who was raised” (Rom 8:34), the claim that Jesus “gave himself for our sins to set us free from the present evil age” (Gal 1:4), the affirmation of “the redemption that is in Christ Jesus” (Rom 3:4), and the hopeful declaration that “Christ, being raised from the dead, will never die again; death no longer has dominion over him” (Rom 6:9), which is the heart of the message he proclaims. This death-resurrection movement also forms the basis of his credal exposition at 1 Cor 15:3–8.

One of the few places where Paul clearly describes something in the life of Jesus other than this death-resurrection complex is in the Epistle passage that is provided by the lectionary for the first Sunday after Christmas (Gal. 4:4–7). Here, Paul acknowledges that Jesus was “born of a woman, born under the law” (Gal 4:4). This is a slightly more developed claim than is made in Romans, where he acknowledges that Jesus “was descended from David according to the flesh” (Rom 1:4).

This passage from Galatians is offered because it provides the earliest confessional statement about the birth of Jesus (since Paul wrote this letter to the Galatians decades before the Gospels were written). What he says is concise and clear: Jesus was “born of a woman, born under the law”. The first phrase indicates that Jesus was a human being—born of a woman, like all of us. That is an affirmation made explicit in the fourth Gospel (John 1:14) and which undergirds the narratives of the three Synoptic Gospels.

The second phrase indicates that he was a Jew—born into a society that valued and appreciated the law that long had shaped the practices and customs of the Jews. The Jewishness of Jesus is described with clarity at so many points in each of the Gospels, in which he attends synagogue on the sabbath, demonstrates his detailed knowledge Torah, and takes part in festivals in Jerusalem. The Johannine Jesus affirms that “salvation is of the Jews” and the Synoptic Jesus lays claim to the command to “love God … and love your neighbour” as the key element of his teaching.

This is a fundamental element in our Christian confession; in the Apostles’ Creed, we affirm that we believe in Jesus, “born of the virgin Mary”. Paul says nothing here about Mary’s status, other than she was a Jewish woman. Apart from the passing reference in verse 4, Paul’s focus is not so much on the fact that Jesus was born a Jew, but on the significance of the birth of this child.

So he writes that Jesus was born “in order to redeem … so that we might receive adoption” (Gal 4:5), and goes on to say more about adoption, inheritance, and the receiving of the Spirit as a child of God (Gal 4:6–7). For Paul, the creation of the human family that is presumed by his statement (infant and mother; and father, although not mentioned here) also means the creation of a wider, larger family of faith, of each one of us who is “an heir through God”. Which is, of course, why believers celebrate with joy each Christmas.

In the resources offered by the lectionary for Christmas, in the three sets of readings for the Nativity of the Lord I, II, and III, we have three excerpts from Epistles which provide similar insights—fleeting, incomplete, not fully developed—about the coming of Jesus and the significance of this event. (None of these passages refer to the “birth” of Jesus, nor do they refer directly to Jesus by name; each of them offers allusion and inference, rather than direct description.)

For Proper I, a brief affirmation is offered: “the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation to all” (Titus 2:11). The allusion to the birth of Jesus may well be deduced; the precise wording is generalised and remote from “the birth of Jesus”. That Jesus is “the grace of God” might well be argued from other scriptural texts (John 1:17; Rom 1:5; 5:2, 15; 1 Cor 1:4; Eph 1:6–8; 1 Tim 1:14; 2 Tim 1:9) but is not made explicit in this brief statement in Titus 2.

For Proper II, another excerpt from the same epistle notes that “when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Saviour appeared, he saved us, not because of any works of righteousness that we had done, but according to his mercy, through the water of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit” (Titus 3:4–5). Strikingly, the appearance of the kindness of God is here portrayed as an act of the Spirit; Jesus is nowhere named or identified!

And for Proper III, an excerpt from Hebrews declares, “in these last days he has spoken to us by a Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, through whom he also created the worlds” (Heb 1:2), and then goes on to articulate a grand vision of this Son (not explicitly named as Jesus).

The author is drawing from language in the Wisdom tradition to state that “[the Son] is the reflection of God’s glory and the exact imprint of God’s very being, and he sustains all things by his powerful word” (Heb 1:3). (Of course, Wisdom was feminine in Hebrew Scripture; here, as in other New Testament books, the key features of Wisdom are masculinised as they are applied to the man, Jesus.)

Reflecting God’s glory and being the exact imprint of God, as set forth in this passage, are striking claims. Although they appear in a letter addressed to “the Hebrews”, in which scriptural citations undergird the theological argument proposed, these phrases take us far and away from the Jewish baby born to Mary, into speculative philosophical musings about the eternal nature of the Son.

In these three texts, as in the short excerpt from Galatians 4, claims are made about the consequence of what Jesus achieved. In each case they take us far from the story of the birth of the child

In the first except from Titus, after stating that “the grace of God has appeared”, a standard Pauline catchphrase follows (“who gave himself for us”; see Gal 1:4; 2:20; and see Eph 5:2) followed by references to redemption from iniquity (still Pauline; see Rom 3:24; 8:23; 1 Cor 1:30), before adding “and purify for himself a people of his own who are zealous for good deeds” (Titus 2:14). The reference to purification and the affirmation of “good deeds” has moved us far from Paul, and tells us nothing additional about Jesus, the Jewish infant.

The next excerpt from Titus (3:7), noting “when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Saviour appeared”, describes the consequences of this appearance. The author here uses terms that are thoroughly Pauline. First, “he saved us” (see Rom 1 Cor 1:18; Rom 1:16; 10:1; 13:11; Phil 2:22); second, “having been justified by his grace” (see Rom 3:24; 5:1–2; Gal 2:15–21); and third, “that we might become heirs” (see Rom 8:15–17; Gal 3:28–29). Then the writer adds “according to the hope of eternal life”. Paul himself does refer to “eternal life” (Gal 6:8; Rom 2:7; 5:21; 6:22–23), although this is a very Johannine idea. But once again, we are far from the infancy born to Mary “under the law”.

In the excerpt from Hebrews, after offering the Wisdom-inspired cosmic vision of the Son, the writer declares, “when he had made purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high” (Heb 1:3). Again, such a statement redirects attention away from the birth of the infant, and his Jewish origins, into the heavenly realm, far away from earth (according to the ancient cosmological understanding).

My sense is that these three Epistle readings offer elements which have been taken up into the development of Christological thinking; but they offer little in the way of deepening our appreciation of the actual “story of Christmas” which is, inevitably, the focus in worship services at Christmas.

Promise and proclamation: passages from the Prophets at Christmas

There is a richness of scriptural resources for reflecting on our faith at Christmas. These resources come from the developing traditions of Christmas worship in the early centuries of Christianity. This post concerns especially some passages from the prophet Isaiah that are proposed by the Revised Common Lectionary for our Christmas worship celebrations.

In the ancient Roman church, a Christmas Mass was originally celebrated as a vigil service at the manger of St Mary Major in Rome. It was a small service originating under Pope Sixtus III, and was known as The Angel’s Mass, as the story was told of the angels appearing to the shepherds in the fields (Luke 2:1–14).

In time, a large public service was added at the church of St Peter on the morning of Christmas Day, presided over by the Pope. This practice continues to this day. This service was known as The Shepherd’s Mass, for the story of the shepherds coming to visit the newborn child (Luke 2:8–20).

A third service, The Mass of the Divine Word, was added in the fifth century, originally to celebrate St Anastasia, whose body, it was said, rested in the palace church of the Byzantine Governor in Rome. The focus of this service shifted, over time, from a veneration of the saint’s remains, to a celebration of the Incarnation. The Gospel read at this service was John 1:1–14.

These three Gospel passages were retained in the Common Lectionary when it was created in 1983, drawing on the ancient Roman practices, and continued on in the Revised Common Lectionary of 1992. To the three Gospel passages were added nine additional readings—three psalms, three from the prophets, and three from the epistles. The three options are identified as Nativity of the Lord Proper I, Proper II, and Proper III.

Alongside the Gospel passage and the prophetic passage for each of the three traditional services for Christmas (Nativity of the Lord I, II, and III), there is a psalm offered for each service, as well as a passage from the book of Isaiah. We would do well to use them to guide our response at Christmas, as we hear the story and celebrate the birth of Jesus.

The three psalms (Psalms 96, 97, and 98) come from a sequence of songs offering praise—a note that is entirely suitable for the Christmas season! The three passages from the book of Isaiah come from the three different sections of that large prophetic book, each offering words of hope.

The book of Isaiah comprises three sections, which most scholars believe originated in three different periods during the history of Israel. The first section (chs. 1–39) is located in Judah in the eighth century BCE, as the Assyrians conquered the northern kingdom of Israel and attempted to gain control of the southern kingdom, but that effort failed.

The second section of Isaiah (chs. 40–55) dates from the time of exile for the southern kingdom, after the people of Judah had been conquered by the Babylonians in 587 BCE; it offers words of hope as the people look to a return to the land. Then, the third section (chs. 56–66) is dated to a time when the exiles had returned to Judah, sometime after 520 BCE. By convention, the three parts are known as First Isaiah, Second Isaiah, and Third Isaiah.

The first of these three passages from the book of Isaiah proposed as Christmas readings is an oracle in the early part of the first section (chs.1—39). Here, the prophet is looking forward to the birth of a child (Isa 9:6). This, of course, is a most appropriate theme for Christmas. Yet the child of whom Isaiah of Jerusalem spoke was not Jesus, but rather, a royal child, already announced at Isa 7:14.

This child would be born in difficult circumstances (Isa 9:4–5), for the people were under attack by the Assyrians to the north (as reported in 2 Kings 16). The hope that the prophet holds out is of darkness in light, joy in the midst of hard work, release from oppression, and the establishment of justice and righteousness.

Is not that what we hope for, pray for, and work for, through the coming of Jesus which we celebrate at Christmas? Although the prophet did not “predict Jesus”, yet we can see how Jesus invites us to work with him for this desired result.

The second reading from Isaiah comes from the third section of the book (chs. 56—66). It comprises a set of prophecies delivered many decades after the prophet Isaiah of Jerusalem himself lived. As the people returned to the land of Israel, hopes were high. The anonymous prophet whose words are collected in the book of Isaiah speaks about justice and deliverance (56:1), with light illuminating the darkness (60:1–3) and the Spirit inspiring leaders “to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour” (61:1–2). The security that is foreseen (Isa 62:8–9) and the celebration that takes place (v.10) is marked with names that signal to the people how God has been at work (v.12).

In the same spirit of hope, we prepare for the annual celebration of the coming of Jesus, in whom we surely find the Spirit at work, bringing salvation, proclaiming God’s way “to the end of the earth” (v.11). Once again, the prophet is not specifically forthtelling the coming of Jesus; but as we have experienced Jesus and know him in our lives, we can see how he brings to fruition these hopes, held firm from centuries ago, still alive for our own times.

The third reading from the book of Isaiah offered for Christmas is a rather short reading (Isa 52:7–10). It comes from the middle section of the book (chs. 40—55). a set of prophecies delivered to people from Judah who had been in exile in Babylon for some decades. This section of the book begins with a clear signal of the great hope of the time: “prepare the way of the Lord … every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain made low” (40:3–4).

A key figure at that time was the Servant, called to lead the people with teaching and example. (The resonances with Jesus are frequently noted; but the prophet was not speaking directly about Jesus.) This passage speaks about those who “announce peace, bring good news, announce salvation” (52:7); all activities that we associate with Jesus, through the Christmas story and the Gospel narratives.

However, this particular herald, some eight centuries before Jesus, would bring comfort to the exiled people, assuring them of their redemption when they return to the land. This good news must surely be made known “before the eyes of all the nations”, so that “all the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of our God” (v.10). These sentiments surely correlate with how we, joyfully and hopefully, regard Jesus, in our Christmas celebrations.

See

Three Christmas Options: the Revised Common Lectionary at Christmas

Justice and joy: a sequence of Psalms for Christmas

There is a richness of scriptural resources for reflecting on our faith at Christmas. These resources come from the developing traditions of Christmas worship in the early centuries of Christianity. This post concerns especially the psalms that are proposed by the Revised Common Lectionary for our Christmas worship celebrations.

In the ancient Roman church, a Christmas Mass was originally celebrated as a vigil service at the manger of St Mary Major in Rome. It was a small service originating under Pope Sixtus III, and was known as The Angel’s Mass, as the story was told of the angels appearing to the shepherds in the fields (Luke 2:1–14).

In time, a large public service was added at the church of St Peter on the morning of Christmas Day, presided over by the Pope. This practice continues to this day. This service was known as The Shepherd’s Mass, for the story of the shepherds coming to visit the newborn child (Luke 2:8–20).

A third service, The Mass of the Divine Word, was added in the fifth century, originally to celebrate St Anastasia, whose body, it was said, rested in the palace church of the Byzantine Governor in Rome. The focus of this service shifted, over time, from a veneration of the saint’s remains, to a celebration of the Incarnation. The Gospel read at this service was John 1:1–14.

These three Gospel passages were retained in the Common Lectionary when it was created in 1983, drawing on the ancient Roman practices, and continued on in the Revised Common Lectionary of 1992. To the three Gospel passages were added nine additional readings—three psalms, three from the prophets, and three from the epistles. The three options are identified as Nativity of the Lord Proper I, Proper II, and Proper III.

Alongside the Gospel passage and the prophetic passage for each of the three traditional services for Christmas (Nativity of the Lord I, II, and III), there is a psalm offered for each service. We would do well to use them to guide our response at Christmas, as we hear the story and celebrate the birth of Jesus. The three psalms (Psalms 96, 97, and 98) come from a sequence of songs offering praise—a note that is entirely suitable for the Christmas season!

Collectively, these psalms call us to “sing a new song to the Lord” (Ps 96:1; 98:1), to rejoice (96:11–12; 97:8, 12; 98:8), and to celebrate that “the Lord, he is coming, coming to judge the earth … with righteousness and with truth” (96:13; 97:2; 98:9). Justice and joy mark each of these songs.

The first psalm of the three, Psalm 96, invites us to “worship the Lord in the splendour of holiness” (v.9), a message that I have seen painted in many church buildings, often over the front sanctuary area. The last verse reminds us also that God’s desire for the people of the earth is righteousness and truth; an ideal that we would do well to remember daily in our lives away from the sanctuary, enmeshed in our ordinary activities.

For the middle of the three traditional medieval services for Christmas (Nativity of the Lord II), Psalm 97 was sung. It sounds a tone of celebration in the first verse, but then paints what feels like a dark, menacing picture of God (vv.2–5). The clouds, fire, lightning, darkness, and seismic tremors in these verses are intended to convey the exalted majesty of God, “the Lord of all the earth” (v.5). This may be an alien set of images for us, perhaps. Yet Israel is called to respond with joy; this portrayal of the glory of God lifts the people out of their mundane lives and transports them to “high over all the earth” (v.9).

Light and joy are associated with God, because God strengthens those who are righteous and supports those who are “upright in heart” (v.11). This is the essence of who God is; God is characterised by righteousness and glory (v.6). We might think of Israel’s God as evoking fear and terror when divine judgement is made; this psalm, and many others, show a different picture. There is no sense of being cowed or ground down by a menacing God; rather, it is cause for celebration. The response which is sought is joy and gladness (v.8).

Psalm 98 was sung in the third of the three traditional medieval services for Christmas (The Mass of the Divine Word). It is offered today by the lectionary as part of the readings for Nativity III. That third service was a joyful celebration of the Incarnation, which is the climactic affirmation of the Gospel (John 1:14). So the recurrent songs of praise and joyful noise throughout verses 4–8 are most pertinent; this is a fine way to celebrate the good news of how God comes to us in Jesus, which is what we celebrate at Christmas.

The orchestra that is playing includes both instruments played by humans (lyre, voice, trumpets, horn) as well as the flooding seas and the surrounding hills; it is a full, cosmic celebration. The psalm is introduced with a common invocation, “sing to the Lord a new song” (Ps 96:1; also 33:3; 144:9; 149:1). It closes with a recurrent affirmation of God’s “judgement with righteousness” (Ps 96:13; also 50:6; 72:2; 96:13).

The linking of judgement and joy is striking, and may feel unusual for us; but see Heb 12:22–24, where the same link is made as the author of this letter exhorts their readers, “you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, and to the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel”. Justice based on clear judgement and joy generated by celebratory gatherings belong together.

See

Three Christmas Options: the Revised Common Lectionary at Christmas