Christmas Songs

Thanksgiving is over, signaling the end of Alex's ban on Christmas songs.  Marriage teaches you many things about yourself; one example of this is that I never realized what a proclivity I have for bursting out in random song, nor did I know how often these random outbursts turned to Christmas music.  For whatever reason, Alex does not ascribe to Mr. Dicken's recommendation to keep the spirit of Christmas year-round and will consequently protest vehemently should I sing from the List of Forbidden Songs, sometimes in a different language.

But for this brief window, together we sing the Christmas hymns from the official hymnbook of Grace Baptist, a true treat.  They bring back nostalgic memories; caroling with my church at the assisted living facilities, going to bag candy at the grocer my great aunt ran to be dispersed at the church Christmas program, the parts I played in said Christmas programs (my dear wife will shudder at this, but one year I was a clown-Alex has terrible fear of clowns), peanut butter crackers dipped in almond bark, and a myriad of other childhood experiences invoked by the old songs; but this year, perhaps more than in others, it is the beauty of the lyrics that have truly enraptured me.

It may seem counter intuitive to our readership, but besides being an engineer I am something of a fine arts enthusiast.  This passion first manifested itself in fourth grade when we were taught about limericks and haikus; I then proceeded to write an individual limerick for each of my classmates and a haiku for each day of the year (these documents have since been lost to the sands of time).

For all this love of poetry, I fear I have never developed an objective barometer for gauging the quality of poetry.  So I ask our readers, when I am struck by the magnanimous beauty of the lines:

Sages, leave your contemplations,
Brighter visions beam afar;
Seek the great desire of nations,
Ye have seen His natal star;

is it the wonderful phrasing of the poet that fills me with such awe, or is it the truth those words convey?  I have no idea.  The distinction is of course somewhat silly; I guess what I am getting at is that for whatever reason, I am being especially moved by the hymns I've sung all my life, and I would love to be able to somehow cause our readers to feel the same emotions I experience when reading those lines.  Really read them; I wonder if sometimes in singing we loose the weight of the meaning behind those lyrics, as though all music should be regarded with the same contemplation as something by The Jonas Brothers. Here are the lines from Hark the Herald, Angels Sing, which we sang tonight:

Hark! The herald angels sing,
“Glory to the newborn King;
Peace on earth, and mercy mild,
God and sinners reconciled!”
Joyful, all ye nations rise,
Join the triumph of the skies;
With th’angelic host proclaim,
“Christ is born in Bethlehem!”

Hark! the herald angels sing,
“Glory to the newborn King!”

Christ, by highest Heav’n adored;
Christ the everlasting Lord;
Late in time, behold Him come,
Offspring of a virgin’s womb.
Veiled in flesh the Godhead see;
Hail th’incarnate Deity,
Pleased as man with men to dwell,
Jesus our Emmanuel.

Hail the heav’nly Prince of Peace!
Hail the Sun of Righteousness!
Light and life to all He brings,
Ris’n with healing in His wings.
Mild He lays His glory by,
Born that man no more may die.
Born to raise the sons of earth,
Born to give them second birth.

Come, Desire of nations, come,
Fix in us Thy humble home;
Rise, the woman’s conqu’ring Seed,
Bruise in us the serpent’s head.
Now display Thy saving power,
Ruined nature now restore;
Now in mystic union join
Thine to ours, and ours to Thine.

Adam’s likeness, Lord, efface,
Stamp Thine image in its place:
Second Adam from above,
Reinstate us in Thy love.
Let us Thee, though lost, regain,
Thee, the Life, the inner man:
O, to all Thyself impart,
Formed in each believing heart.

 "Pleased as man, with men to dwell," what a marvelous phrasing of a marvelous truth! "Come, desire of nations, come, Fix in us Thy humble home; Rise the woman's conquering Seed, Bruise in us the serpent's head," does the language deepen your longing for this request?  "Born that man no more may die," the words themselves naturally punctuate without the call/response format of the music.

All this to say, I am having a very happy Christmas season, and I wish our readers all the joy of the season.  Omnia Vincit Amor.