The Contexts for Our
Carols
Cherished Christmas carols help us to sing with the saints through
the ages.
JOSH
HERRING
“High King of heaven, my victory won
May I reach heaven’s joys, O bright heaven’s sun!
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,
Still be my vision, O Ruler of all.”
May I reach heaven’s joys, O bright heaven’s sun!
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,
Still be my vision, O Ruler of all.”
With
these words, the ancient Irish poet brings us into a different world.
It is a
world where God is not just the omniscient, omnibenevolent deity of scholastic
logic, but the “high King of heaven.”
This
title moves the mind back through time to a different political moment, a time
when security rested not in democratic freedoms but in the local king
submitting to the high king in his hall.
The
poet reaches for the political structure of ancient Ireland to describe the
spiritual relationship of Christians.
Just as
the local king ruled his kingdom under the authority of the high king, so each
Christian man and woman becomes a king or queen ruling creation under the
benevolent grace of our Father.
In Poetics, Aristotle
describes the goal of poetry as mimesis,
imitation. The poet seeks to artfully construct a sort of mirror reflecting
reality back to his audience.
It is
in this sense that Christian theology is a poetic, or perhaps mimetic, discipline.
Theology
is not necessarily creative but seeks to reflect the work of God back to the
current generation of Christians.
Just as
the poets of ancient Greece reflected their historical context, so, too,
Christian theologians bring their own historical moment into the task of
writing theology.
In the
genre of Christmas hymns, we can see commonality as medieval, modern, and
contemporary hymn writers draw on both the gospel accounts of Christ’s birth
and the political and theological categories of their day to shape their hymns.
By
increasing our awareness of the riches available in the hymnic tradition, we
deepen our worship through a new perspective and we demonstrate the
chronological unity of Christ’s church.
Vassals
in the Kingdom of God
The Middle Ages is a fascinating time period including the fall of
Rome, the rise of European states, the spread of monarchy, the birth of the
university, and the nearly universal practice of Christianity.
Throughout
the Middle Ages (approximately 476–1492), Christianity provided the impetus for
national and international unity.
Through
the work of missionaries like Patrick, Columba, Boniface, Augustine of
Canterbury, and countless others, the Christian faith spread throughout Europe,
reaching a point of cultural saturation unimaginable today.
Politically,
kingdoms tended to be small and were ruled by powerful warlords commanding
personal loyalty. The vast majority of Europeans lived in extreme poverty as
serfs.
Education
was sparse, concentrated in the monastic hall; medical knowledge was mostly
wrong, leaving peasants without recourse when plague struck.
Farming
served as the nearly universal occupation, with most families being but a
single failed harvest away from starvation.
In this
historical period, Christianity thrived. Faithful people passed on the truths
of the gospel, and several hymns from this millennium still resonate with
contemporary audiences.
One of
these hymns emerges from the halls of the past each Christmas season.
“Good
Christian Men Rejoice” dates to the 14th century and comes from a Latin and
German origin.
The
more popularly known traditional English version of “Good Christian Men
Rejoice” reflects substantial evolution throughout the centuries; the
14th-century translation illustrates both a physical understanding of heaven
and a feudal soteriology.
Henry
Suso rendered the third verse as
“Where are joys? / Nowhere more than there / Where angels sing /
New songs / And the bells ring / In the courts of the King. / Oh, were we only
there!”
In
these lines, heaven is described in terms of physical sounds connoting joy and
location: Angels “sing,” bells “ring,” which we could hear if we were
physically present in the king’s “courts.”
Heaven
has not only sounds to be heard, but also an existence as a court ruled by the
benevolent lord and filled with his faithful vassals.
The
verse ends with a sense of longing—“Oh, were we only there!” which conveys the
hope of achieving entry as vassals into this wondrous court.
This
language reflects the recent (within the 11th and 12th centuries) impetus
toward crusade.
In
1095, Pope Urban II proclaimed the necessity for all good Christians to journey
to Jerusalem to regain the Holy City.
By the second Crusade, Bernard of Clairvaux used the language of
regaining Jesus’ kingdom, viewing Christ as a feudal lord: “The earth trembles and is shaken
because the King of Heaven has lost his land, the land where once he walked. …
I tell you, the Lord is testing you.”
The
vision of heaven as a physical destination (a court analogous to an earthly
king’s court), which the faithful should hope to gain because of Christ’s
victory on the cross, provides a window into how medieval Christians related to
God.
From
boisterous angels to a silent night
Medieval hymns like “Good Christian Men Rejoice” cast the work of
salvation in the model of feudal relations; 18th- and 19th-century hymns
employed different motifs drawn from different eras.
By the
18th century, the era of exploration had resulted in a wider world traversed by
international commerce.
The
development of the scientific method and its application altered the very view
of the solar system; the Enlightenment fostered a greater focus on the
individual and his or her capacity for reason.
Politically,
monarchy was the traditional paradigm in Europe during this period, with
general acceptance of the body politic theory.
This
metaphor envisioned society as a body with each social class corresponding to
hands, heart, feet, and so on.
The king
as the head (or heart depending on the theorist) provided unity and a focal
point for loyalty.
Hymns
in the 18th century, as represented in the work of Charles Wesley, came into
their own as a vehicle for teaching complex theology to literate laymen.
Brother
to John Wesley, Charles was a gifted poet and wrote hundreds of hymns over his
lifetime.
One of
Wesley’s most famous Christmas hymns, “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” contains
echoes of “Good Christian Men Rejoice” in that it recalls the events in Luke 2
and summons the hymn singers to join with the angels in rejoicing.
Its
uniqueness begins with Wesley’s description of the “newborn king.”
This
King is the reason all nations should “rise [and] join the chorus of the
skies;” he is the “everlasting Lord.”
This
perfect King who frees from death is King over all nations and will bring
“peace on earth and mercy mild.”
In
contrast to absolutist kings (Louis XIV in France and Charles I in England),
the ruler Wesley describes is a King who has laid “his glory by.”
Additionally,
Wesley locates reconciliation between “God and sinners” here on earth;
salvation is not something to win or reach, but it begins here.
This
18th-century hymn lacks the idea of escaping the horrors of the world; instead,
the world becomes the place where God’s redemption begins.
Wesley
illustrates a more positive theology of the world.
Alongside
his more famous brother John, Charles Wesley helped develop a Methodist form of
Christianity combining the more democratic movements of the 18th century with
hierarchical elements of Anglican practice, eventually resulting in a
flourishing expression of Christianity which spread throughout the world.
A
century later, the political context had shifted wildly.
By the
early 19th century the chaos of the French Revolution and Napoleonic era had
given way to the new commercial opportunities of the Industrial Revolution.
The
missionary movement was underway, which paired with the growth of the British
Empire.
In
America, the 19th century was marked by political upheaval culminating in the
American Civil War to determine the questions of dissolving the federal union
and slavery.
It was
a tumultuous, chaotic time marked by expanding technology but shrinking
consensus in how people should live together in political society.
In that
context, Austrian Roman Catholic priest Joseph Mohr and organist Franz Gruber
first performed their new hymn “Stille Nacht” in 1818, later translated into
English as “Silent Night.”
In
contrast to the chaos of life in 1818 Bavaria (Napoleonic Wars; the growing
dominance of Prussia; competing nationalism, liberalism, and conservatism),
Mohr depicted a “silent night / Holy night” perhaps intentionally putting
together two qualities fading from his world: silence and holiness.
Mohr’s
description of the infant Christ is also striking: “tender and mild” with
“radiant beams from thy holy face” and “Jesus, Lord at thy birth!”
Here is
a Christology combining kindness with lordship and borrowing the language of
light to convey divinity.
Rather
than the king who won entrance into his court for his vassals or the king
heralded by the mighty angels in the sky, this hymn envisions one who is “lord”
at birth but filled with tender kindness alone.
The
political framework to support a vision of kingship as a gloriously good thing
had shifted.
In
contrast to previous eras, Mohr’s hymn reflects a weaker image of Jesus as the
ruling Lord who enters his creation in quiet and awe.
The
contemporary “wondrous mystery”
The contemporary theological imagination has been shaped by the
inerrancy debates brought on by the fundamentalism/modernism divide in the 20th
century.
The
21st century has been called both “post-Christian” and an era recovering the
importance of religious truth.
Multiculturalism
has become normative in large sections of Western civilization; materially, the
Western world stands at an unprecedented level of prosperity.
Militarily,
we have lived with the capacity for nuclear devastation since 1945 but have yet
to destroy the world.
Postmodern
philosophy has played a significant role in shaping thought and bringing to
light the lack of consensus on fundamental questions.
Within
the church, these realities have encouraged many denominations to recover the resources
history offers them in terms of creeds, councils, and habits of life.
Matt
Papa’s song “Come Behold the Wondrous Mystery” encapsulates these historical
realities in his approach to writing a 21st-century Christmas hymn.
Rather
than modernism’s attempt to reconcile science and theology, Papa calls the
divine work the “wondrous mystery” which it is our task to “come behold.”
This
Christ is no mewling babe but a King who dawns powerfully like the sun.
This
hymn celebrates not just the “silent night” of birth, but the whole life,
death, and resurrection.
Papa
ventures into the Pauline epistles (particularly Romans) to write, “See the
true and better Adam / Come to save the hell-bound man.”
He
looks backward to the Old Testament to claim “Christ the great and sure
fulfillment / Of the law; in Him we stand.”
This
Christ’s victory is not in his birth, but in death: “Christ the Lord upon the
tree / In the stead of ruined sinners / Hangs the lamb in victory.”
This
Christmas hymn concludes as several others do, with the promise of resurrection
purchased through birth and death:
Come behold the wondrous mystery
Slain by death the God of life
But no grave could e’er restrain Him
Praise the Lord; He is alive!
What a foretaste of deliverance
How unwavering our hope
Christ in power resurrected
As we will be when he comes.
Slain by death the God of life
But no grave could e’er restrain Him
Praise the Lord; He is alive!
What a foretaste of deliverance
How unwavering our hope
Christ in power resurrected
As we will be when he comes.
Here
Jesus not only opens the door to the courts of heaven, nor is he merely an
avenue for the nations to be ruled in peace, he also provides hope for all
mankind.
Matt
Papa demonstrates a desire in the contemporary theological imagination to show
Christ as the center of Scripture, the hope of all mankind, and the ultimate
mystery worth studying.
Worshiping
with the saints throughout the ages
Christianity is a historical faith, rooted in the temporal reality
of the birth, crucifixion, and resurrection of Jesus. Because of this
historicity, the way theologians write about the faith is shaped by their
historical moment.
When we
assemble a list of hymns and songs for corporate worship, we are drawing
together different ways of looking at the world from across the ages.
Just as
we might play certain choruses mixed with certain traditional hymns to draw a
physical congregation together, when we mix hymns from across the ages we draw
together spiritually with those saints who have passed on to glory.
This
chronological awareness becomes one way to demonstrate the unity of the church
across the ages.
The
picture of Revelation 7:9–12 shows the church gathered across all of time and
space; there will be medieval Catholics seeing in Christ the fulfillment of
their monarchical vision worshiping next to moderns with their democratic
ideals beside postmodern Christians marveling at the great mystery.
As we
incorporate different historical imaginations into our earthly worship, we
prepare to commune with our brothers and sisters from different historical
moments in the coming eternity.
Such an
approach, whether we realize it or not, demonstrates the diversity of
approaches in Christology.
Christ
as God is infinite, and poetic attempts to express the inexpressible illustrate
the marvelous complexity of the Godhead.
When we
sing “Be Thou My Vision,” recognizing the meaning of the “high King of heaven”
recalls relationships of loyalty, gratitude, and wonder which brings glory to
God and joy to the world.
We are
his people, the redeemed sheep of his pasture, and as such we call him “Ruler
of all.”
Josh Herring is a humanities instructor at Thales Academy, a
graduate of Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary and Hillsdale College,
and a doctoral student in Faulkner University’s Great Books program. He has
written for Moral Apologetics, The Imaginative Conservative, Think Christian, and The
Federalist.
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