Category Archives: Christmas

Shorten winter by this holy vitality.

Christmas, Nativity, poetry, quotes, , , , , , ,

In my Orthodox Christian household we have been enjoying our Christmas holy days, which just began on the 25th. I am keeping in mind the wisdom of G.K. Chesterton, who said, “The best way to shorten winter is to prolong Christmas.” That is, as you will remember, the opposite of what the witch did in Narnia, when she cast a spell making it “always winter but never Christmas.”

Hilaire Belloc wrote a lovely piece in 1928 about the way his house kept Christmas throughout the Twelve Days, titled “A Remaining Christmas,” and Hearth and Field has kindly republished it. There are naturally some things we do differently in my tradition, such as, we have Theophany at the end of the Twelve Days, and in the West it is Epiphany. But it is the same story that compels us to “Rejoice, and again I say, rejoice!” (Philippians 4:4) Here is one paragraph:

“Now, you must not think that Christmas being over, the season and its glories are at an end, for in this house there is kept up the full custom of the Twelve Days, so that ‘Twelfth Day’, the Epiphany, still has, to its inhabitants, its full and ancient meaning as it had when Shakespeare wrote. The green is kept in its place in every room, and not a leaf of it must be moved until Epiphany morning, but on the other hand not a leaf of it must remain in the house, nor the Christmas tree either, by Epiphany evening. It is all taken out and burnt in a special little coppice reserved for these good trees which have done their Christmas duty; and now, after so many years, you might almost call it a little forest, for each tree has lived, bearing witness to the holy vitality of unbroken ritual and inherited things.”

I didn’t get my greenery and full decorations up until Christmas Eve, so we are definitely leaving those for a while yet. Of course we have been nibbling away on the remains of our culinary feast, and I play carols in the car, and in the house when I remember.

Yesterday the younger house guests and I had a thoroughly sugary and creative session of decorating those gingerbread cookies we’d cut out on the Second Day. Also on the Third Day an impromptu Christmas tea party happened here, when more friends stopped by, and their children played my piano, which I know it was longing for. I brought out my real teacups, and twelve of us squeezed around the table to eat more Christmas cookies and drain the contents of four teapots. “Christ is born!”

On this Fourth Day, I listened to a wonderful story by Chesterton, read by Fr. Malcolm Guite, “The Shop of Ghosts.” It starts with visions seen through a toy shop window, and continues with a conversation with Father Christmas. Thank you, Mr. Chesterton, for helping us to prolong Christmas. It will never die.

I found that Belloc essay, which you can read here: “A Remaining Christmas,” along with his poem I am sharing below. If you want more commentary on the poem, this article by Joseph Pearce might be a good place to start. In it he also mentions T.S. Eliot’s “Journey of the Magi.” I had thought to post this compilation of Things Christmastide closer to Twelfth Night, but it seems to want to go out now, I guess to help us make the most of the days to come. If we are weary from the busyness that accompanied us to the manger, let’s stay there a while and worship, and find rest.

TWELFTH NIGHT

As I was lifting over Down
A winter’s night to Petworth Town,
I came upon a company
Of Travellers who would talk with me.

The riding moon was small and bright,
They cast no shadows in her light:
There was no man for miles a-near.
I would not walk with them for fear.

A star in heaven by Gumber glowed,
An ox across the darkness lowed,
Whereat a burning light there stood
Right in the heart of Gumber Wood.

Across the rime their marching rang,
And in a little while they sang;
They sang a song I used to know,
Gloria
In Excelsis Domino.

The frozen way those people trod
It led towards the Mother of God;
Perhaps if I had travelled with them
I might have come to Bethlehem.

-Hilaire Belloc

Here the true hearts are.

Christmas, Nativity, poetry

A CHRISTMAS CAROL

The Christ-child lay on Mary’s lap,
His hair was like a light.
(O weary, weary were the world,
But here is all alright.)

The Christ-child lay on Mary’s breast
His hair was like a star.
(O stern and cunning are the kings,
But here the true hearts are.)

The Christ-child lay on Mary’s heart,
His hair was like a fire.
(O weary, weary is the world,
But here the world’s desire.)

The Christ-child stood on Mary’s knee,
His hair was like a crown,
And all the flowers looked up at Him,

And all the stars looked down.

— G.K. Chesterton

 

A Great and Mighty Wonder

Christmas, Nativity,

I read this as a poem just this fall, and did not realize at first that it is the lyrics to a Christmas carol, sung to the same tune as “Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming.” I wonder if any of my readers is familiar with it.

I know we are all at least somewhat acquainted with the One whose birth is the glorious mystery about which St. Germanus wrote so long ago.

A GREAT AND MIGHTY WONDER

A great and mighty wonder,
a glorious mystery:
a virgin bears an infant
who veils his deity.

Proclaim the Savior’s birth:
“To God on high be glory
and peace to all the earth!”

The Word becomes incarnate
and yet remains on high,
and cherubim sing anthems
to shepherds from the sky.

While thus they sing your monarch,
those bright angelic bands,
rejoice, O vales and mountains,
and oceans, clap your hands.

Since all he comes to ransom,
by all be he adored,
the infant born in Bethl’em,
the Savior and the Lord.

All idols then shall perish
and Satan’s lying cease,
and Christ shall raise his scepter,
decreeing endless peace.

-Germanus of Constantinople (634-734)
Translated by John Mason Neale

Christmas in the Trenches

Christmas, history, music, quotes, , , , ,

Maria Horvath (blog now inactive) posted this song, scripture and video together many years ago:

We begin this month’s look at the different forms of love with one of the most thought-provoking statements ever made about love.

In the Sermon on the Mount, Christ tells his followers, “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and send rain on the just and on the unjust. For if you love those who love you, what reward have you? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you salute only your brethren, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? You, therefore, must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” ~ Matthew 5:43-48

The lyrics below tell the true story of a truce between British and German soldiers on the Western Front in 1914. It is told from the perspective of a fictional British soldier.

CHRISTMAS IN THE TRENCHES

Oh, my name is Francis Tolliver, I come from Liverpool,
Two years ago the war was waiting for me after school.
From Belgium and to Flanders, Germany to here,
I have fought for King and country I love dear.

’Twas Christmas in the trenches and the frost so bitter hung,
The frozen fields of France where still no songs of peace were sung.
Our families back in England were toasting us that day
Their brave and glorious lads so far away.

I was lying with me mess mates on the cold and rocky ground
When across the lines of battle came a most peculiar sound.
Says I, Now listen up me boys, each soldier strained to hear
As one young German voice sang out so clear.

He’s singing bloody well, you know, my partner says to me.
Soon one by one each German voice joined in in harmony.
The cannons rested silent and the gas cloud rolled no more,
As Christmas brought us respite from the war.

As soon as they were finished and a reverent pause was spent,
“God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” struck up some lads from Kent.
The next they sang was “Stille Nacht.” ’Tis “Silent Night,” says I,
And in two tongues one song filled up that sky.

There’s someone coming towards us now, the front line sentry cried.
All sights were fixed on one lone figure trudging from their side.
His truce flag like a Christmas Star shone on the plain so bright
As he bravely trudged unarmed into the night.

Then one by one on either side walked in to No Man’s Land
But neither gun nor bayonet, we met there hand to hand.
We shared some secret brandy and we wished each other well,
And in a flare-lit football game we gave ’em hell.

We traded chocolates and cigarettes and photographs from home,
These sons and fathers far away from families of their own.
Tom Sanders played the squeeze box and they had a violin,
This curious and unlikely band of men.

Soon daylight stole upon us and France was France once more.
With sad farewells we each began to settle back to war.
But the question haunted every heart that lived that wondrous night,
Whose family have I fixed within my sights?

’Twas Christmas in the trenches and the frost so bitter hung.
The frozen fields of France were warmed, the songs of peace were sung.
For the walls they’d kept between us to exact the work of war
Had been crumbled and were gone forever more.

Oh, my name is Francis Tolliver, in Liverpool I dwell.
Each Christmas come since World War I, I’ve learned its lessons well,
For the one who calls the shots won’t be among the dead and lame,
And on each end of the rifle we’re the same.

~ John McCutcheon, born 1952, American singer, musician, and composer