Once in Royal David's City

I'll continue blogging about lesser known Advent and Christmas hymns, turning to one of my favorites: "Once in Royal David's City." You can listen to a beautiful version from King's College, Cambridge by clicking here. The music was composed by Henry Gauntlett in 1858, and the lyrics by Cecil Alexander in 1848 (also the author of the lyrics to the hymn "All Things Bright and Beautiful").

Here are the lyrics to this wonderful hymn:

Once in royal Davids city,

Stood a lowly cattle shed,

Where a mother laid her Baby,

In a manger for His bed:

Mary was that mother mild,

Jesus Christ, her little Child.

He came down to earth from heaven,

Who is God and Lord of all,

And His shelter was a stable,

And His cradle was a stall:

With the poor, and mean, and lowly,

Lived on earth our Savior holy.

For He is our childhood's pattern;

Day by day, like us, He grew;

He was little, weak, and helpless,

Tears and smiles, like us He knew;

And He feels for all our sadness,

And he shares in all our gladness.

And our eyes at last shall see Him,

Through His own redeeming love;

For that Child so dear and gentle,

Is our Lord in heaven above:

And He leads His children on,

To the place where He is gone.

Not in that poor lowly stable

With the oxen standing by

We shall see Him, but in heaven,

Set at God's right hand on high:

There His children gather round

Bright like stars, with glory crowned.

What I love about this hymn, besides the music (which is beautiful and stirring, without being sentimental), is the simple way in which the humanity and deity of Christ are put together. Christmas hymns usually emphasize one of these aspects of Christ

Notice in the second verse: "He comes down to earth from heaven, Who is God and Lord of all" emphasizing His pre-incarnate divinity. Yet the rest of that verse goes like this: "And his shelter was a stable, and His cradle was a stall. With the poor and meek and lowly, Lived on earth our Savior holy."*

The juxtaposition of His divinity and humanity continues in the next two verses (3 & 4), one beautifully emphasizes His humanity, the other His divinity. Verse 3 notes (among other things) that He was "little, weak, and helpless." We more often prefer to reflect on Jesus' power and strength, His majesty and authority - all of which He certainly has! But there was a time when He became very little, very weak, and completely helpless. Philippians 2:6-7 emphasizes this point, which sends some Christian thinkers and theologians squirming for reinterpretation. How can this be!

Yet if He became one of us, truly one of us, He had to grow up "Day by day, like us..." He had to learn to speak, to eat, to dress Himself, to take care of His bodily needs. Even at 12, when He was at least beginning to understand something about Who He was, He was still growing in favor with God and people (Luke 2:52 - the Greek imperfect tense emphasizes that His growing up took place over time).

Did He shed tears and did He smile? Yes He did! In Luke 10:21 we read that Jesus was "full of joy through the Holy Spirit." This joy was noticed by those who reported it to Luke. It's likely that His facial expression was much more than a mild grin! He wasn't just happy, He was "full of joy!" He also shed tears next to the grave of His friend Lazarus. The shortest verse in the Bible records that "Jesus wept" (John 11:35). Unlike the perhaps sentimentalistic "No crying He makes" of Silent Night, Jesus probably cried as an infant too. How else does an infant let its mother know that its hungry, or needing a diaper change, or needs to be burped, or is in some other way in need of something?

Do I even need to mention Hebrews 4:15-16?

That third verse needs to be set along side the fourth, where this same dear and gentle Jesus is now our Lord in heaven above. For those who prefer their Jesus merely human, Mrs. Alexander re-emphasizes His divinity. She reminds us that this very same Jesus has gone to prepare a place for us, and will return to take us there (John 14:2-3).

The last verse (lamentably absent in some versions of this hymn), points us to the whole purpose of the incarnation: the family reunion of God the Father with His children. Not only that, but God's intention and plan is that we will be crowned with a never fading glory (1Peter 5:4). Like the prodigal son returning home to be a slave, the Father will greet us with joy, welcome us as His children, clothe us with righteousness and crown us with glory and we will dwell in the house of the Lord forever (Psalm 23:6)!

He came down and became one of us, to lift us up to be with Him and the Father and the Holy Spirit, and all the heavenly hosts in never ending bliss and glory!

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*For the purposes of this blog, I'll disregard the likely inaccuracy of a cattle shed, a stable and stall (verse 2). He was laid in a manger, but there is no other indication that this birth took place in anything we would recognize as a barn or cattle shed (regardless of the traditional manger scenes so familiar this time of year). It's very unlikely that it was a "shed," since wood is very scarce in the region. Most homes were built of stone (limestone, basalt, and similar indigenous material). Even the manger was likely hewn from a block of limestone, rather than built of wood (many of these mangers, dating from even before this time, have been excavated in the holy land). Certainly the Biblical account does emphasize the poverty into which Jesus was born and these cultural reinterpretations certainly don't damage that important part of the message.

Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence

I'd like to reflect on another Christmas hymn that isn't full of smiles and denials. Okay. I'm not trying to say anything negative about joyful Christmas hymns. Really. I love them and enjoy singing them. My only problem with the hymns we usually sing, is that what they evoke from our hearts and our spirits is pretty much the same thing: joy, happiness, and other up-beat sorts of emotions and attitudes. I'm not objecting to that per se, Only to the monotone happy-clappy expectations and experiences of the Advent and Christmas seasons, which too often become a mask for those emotions and attitudes not quite so welcome this time of year.

So here's another hymn that draws out other parts of us as we contemplate the amazing event of the incarnation of Jesus.

Let all mortal flesh keep silence,
and with fear and trembling stand;
ponder nothing earthly minded,
for with blessing in his hand,
Christ our God to earth descendeth,
our full homage to demand.

That's a little different than Joy to the World, or Go Tell it on the Mountain, isn't it? Remember: I've got nothing against those songs and hope we all sing them with gusto! But notice how different it is: keep silence, stand with fear and trembling, stop thinking as earthly minded... As we sing it, the hymn pulls out of things we didn't know we wanted to say until we sang them.

Here's a version of this sung by Fernando Ortega: Click here.

Hymn History

This Christmas hymn wasn't originally a Christmas hymn at all. The lyrics were translated from an ancient Greek and Syrian Orthodox liturgy that traces possibly as far back as James the Lesser, bishop of Jerusalem. The Greek text could be as old as the 2nd Century, though some date it as late as the 5th. Either way, it's a very old song!* Originally, the words were chanted as part of the Eucharist (Lord's Supper) liturgy, and as far as I know, still are in parts of the Orthodox world. This connection is evident in the second stanza (see below).

In 1864 the words were translated (paraphrased really) into English and set to poetic meter (8.7.8.7.8.7), by Gerard Moultrie, It was more than 40 years later that Ralph Vaughan-Williams connected the lyrics of Moultrie with the French tune "Picardy" in 1906, revising the harmony of that tune in the beautiful way we have it today.

Comments on the Hymn

The opening line takes it's cue from Habakkuk 2:20 But the Lord is in his holy temple; let all the earth be silent before him.” The connection to the birth of Jesus is in the fact that when Jesus became incarnate, his body was the temple (John 2:21). He was the place where the presence of God was among His people. 

The fact of the incarnation is such an astounding doctrine, that it would be blasphemy to suggest it, if Scripture did not reveal it to be true. Imagine this: God is born. This truth is so astounding, theologies have been developed which avoided the mind-whirling truth it proclaims. Very early, some began to suggest that Jesus wasn't born Divine, but became Divine through his obedience. Others suggested he wasn't really in the flesh at all, but only seemed to be. Both of those doctrines were challenged and declared heresy by the early church. 

We accept the truth of the incarnation (God made flesh) without pondering it much. Which is one of the reasons I love this hymn: ponder nothing earthly minded as we stand before our incarnate God. Ponder heavenly things. 

Ponder the truth of God made flesh. A God who could be seen with human eyes, be touched with human hands, be heard with human ears (1John 1:1-4). The same God who created the universe (John 1:1-3) emptied himself and took on human form (John 1:14; Philippians 2:6-8). 

John 1:14 hints at something our English versions tend to gloss over in their translations. The first part of that verse literally says "The Word became flesh and pitched His tent among us." If we wanted to use an Old Testament term, we could translate that verse this way "The Word became flesh and tabernacled among us." 

That's right. When Jesus was walking around on this planet, he was the tabernacle of God: the place where the presence of God dwelt with His people.

Let me give you the other verses:

King of kings, yet born of Mary,
As of old on earth He stood,
Lord of lords, in human vesture,
In the body and the blood;
He will give to all the faithful
His own self for heavenly food.

Rank on rank the host of heaven
Spreads its vanguard on the way,
As the Light of light descendeth
From the realms of endless day,
That the powers of hell may vanish
As the darkness clears away.

At His feet the six winged seraph,
Cherubim with sleepless eye,
Veil their faces to the presence,
As with ceaseless voice they cry:
Alleluia, Alleluia
Alleluia, Lord Most High!

Let me comment briefly on the Biblical background for these verses:

In the second verse we remember that Jesus is the Bread of Life (John 6:35, 58), who as incarnate, will give himself for us ultimately on the cross. The third and fourth verses take their cue not only from Luke 2, but also from Isaiah 6 and Revelation 4, the actual throne-room of God. There angels surround the throne, attend the King of kings and sing constantly in His presence.

We also see in these verses that one of the reasons Jesus came is to destroy the powers of hell (1John 3:8), as the light overcomes the darkness (John 1:5).

The song begins in contemplative silence and ends in  joy-filled, angelic praise! But as it does so, it draws that praise out of us from a deeper place than we often find it. The hymn also pairs joy and adoration in a way rarely found in any hymn, or other song of worship.

I don't know what the wind is blowing through your life during this Advent and Christmas season. Maybe it's the sort of stuff that makes joy easy to find. Maybe not. Either way, stop. Quiet yourself to contemplate until you gasp at the staggering truth of the incarnation: God made flesh. Because when we find our joy in Him, in Who He is and what He has done, rather than our always changing life circumstances, that joy can never be taken from us.

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*If you're interested, the original opening line in Greek is this: Σιγησάτω πᾶσα σάρξ βροτεία (literally: "Let keep silent all flesh mortal").

O Come, O Come Emmanuel

In all the razzle and dazzle of the North American Christmas season--with the lights, the songs on the radio, the red and green decorations, the shopping, a large man with a white beard and funny clothes., etc.--it's not hard to see how the Christ of Christmas often gets forgotten, or simply assigned an important seat among many.

I don't want to be a Scrooge or a Grinch, and I'm not calling for a ban on Christmas, as the Puritans did. Although it could be argued that the secularized Christmas they objected to, isn't all that different from the secularized Christmas observed in our day.

What I do want to do is call to mind that Christmas isn't all about nice feelings, family and presents. It's not even simply about Christ being born. It's also about our need for Christ to be born--our need for a Savior.

Somewhere around or before 1100 A.D. an anonymous poet created a metrical version of an even older song, which was later set to the tune we now know as "O Come, O Come Emmanuel." Strangely, this hymn, more than any other, is subject to a great amount of variation. I've not yet found two hymn books that agree on the lyrics! Searching the internet finds multiple versions that include different verses, or variations on verses. Still there is one common theme in all of them: Come, O Come Emmanuel, because things are really bad without You, and You are our only hope.

Maybe you missed that about this familiar hymn (if it is familiar to you). You can listen to a traditional choral version of this here. Here are the lyrics (at least one version of them) to the verses:

O come, O come, Emmanuel,

And ransom captive Israel,

That mourns in lonely exile here

Until the Son of God appear.

O come, Thou Day-spring, come and cheer

Our spirits by Thine advent here;

Disperse the gloomy clouds of night,

And death’s dark shadows put to flight.

O come, Desire of nations, bind

In one the hearts of all mankind;

Bid Thou our sad divisions cease,

And be Thyself our King of Peace.

O come, Thou Branch of Jesse's stem

Unto Thine own and rescue them!

From depths of hell Thy people save,

And give them vict'ry o'er the grave.

There's also a chorus, but let's consider the verses on their own for a moment. Do you see the words: captive, mourns and lonely in the first verse? How about gloomy clouds of night and death's dark shadow in the second? Now take a look at the other verses. What do you see there?

Now, there are other, less mournful verses sometimes associated with this song, but did you ever notice the desperate pleading in this hymn before (assuming you've heard it)?

One of the reasons I love this old hymn is that it reminds us of how much we need a Savior: our situation actually is overwhelming; we cannot save ourselves; without a Savior, we are doomed. Few Christmas hymns capture that desperation, let alone celebrate it!

But we do have a Savior and He has come to us and He will come again!

Here is the chorus to that same hymn (to be sung after each verse):

Rejoice! Rejoice!

Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

These days, it's becoming more popular in some circles to once again embrace the Biblical concept of lament. We find Psalms of lament (Psalm 5, 102, for example), and poems of lament in some of the prophets (the whole book of Lamentations, for example). In lament we give voice to our pain, our loss, our desperation and neediness. Lament is entirely proper.

Yet, I would argue that lament that doesn't resolve to or point toward hope at some point, isn't Christian lament. Lament that merely wallows in self-pity is ultimately a self-centered lament; it is the selfishness of Jacob losing Joseph and refusing to be comforted (Genesis 37:35). Christian lament must yield to faith and trust in God, it must go beyond experience to the Truth that puts experience in its proper place. 

This hymn captures that well. Even while Israel is captive, mourning and lonely, even when the gloomy clouds of night feel like death's dark shadow, even while our sad divisions are not ceasing, or when hell and the grave seem to claim more victories than they ought, even then "Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee...!"

This is what faith in a good God looks like when things aren't good. We rejoice, knowing--knowing!--that Emmanuel (God with us) shall come to us. He will! Standing in faith, we re-align our emotions with the Truth of Who God is. Truth, that first piece of the armor of God--the belt that is placed over our guts (where we feel emotion!). We turn our face from our pain, our loss, our desperation, and our neediness, toward the One Who heals, Who blesses, Who comforts, and Who is Emmanuel, God with us.

During this advent season, my wife is going through chemotherapy. It's not all razzle-dazzle, blinking lights and happy songs in our house. But there is rejoicing. Emmanuel has come! Emmanuel is with us now! Emmanuel will come again! Of this we have no doubt.

Maranatha, Come Lord Jesus!