Animals Talk on Christmas Night

There’s a tradition that animals talk at midnight on Christmas night.

In some versions of the story, Jesus's birth occurred at exactly midnight.  The animals in the stable watched in wonder as the Holy Babe was lovingly wrapped in swaddling clothes and placed in a manger.

At that moment, God gave voices to the animals and they began to praise God for the miracle they had seen.  This spoke words of praise and wonder until just before the shepherds arrived.  When the shepherds got there,  the animals again fell silent. The only humans who had heard the animals were Mary, Joseph and Baby Jesus. 

In the same spirit, a traditional English carol, "The Friendly Beast," several animals tell what they did to help the Holy Family:

"I," said the donkey, shaggy and brown, 

"I carried His mother up hill and down; 

I carried her safely to Bethlehem town .  .  .” 

"I," said the cow, all white and red 

"I gave Him my manger for a bed; 

I gave Him my hay to pillow His head.  .  .  .” 

"I," said the sheep with curly horn, 

"I gave Him my wool for His blanket warm; 

He wore my coat on Christmas morn.  .  .  .” 

"I," said the dove from the rafters high, 

"Cooed Him to sleep that He should not cry; 

We cooed Him to sleep, my mate and I. .  .  .” 

"I," said the camel, yellow and black, 

"Over the desert, upon my back, 

I brought Him a gift in the Wise Men's pack. .  .  .” 

Psalm 148 expresses the poetic thought that everything in all creation utters praise to the Creator: sun, moon, and stars; fire and hail, snow and frost; mountains and hills; fruit trees and cedars;  beasts and all cattle, creeping things and flying birds; even dragons or sea monsters.

Psalm 98 instructs rivers to clap their hands and the hills to be joyful.

Isaiah 55 says mountains and the hills will “break forth into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.”

In Job 38, even “the morning stars sang together.”

How do we interpret these Bible passages?  We should take them seriously but not literally.

Literally, we don’t say stars sing or rivers clap their hands.  Trees maybe, as they shake heir leaves.  But how do fire and hail, snow and frost praise the Creator?  And animals probably don’t actually talk at midnight as Christmas Day begins.  

So where does all this take us?

Genesis 1:31 says, “And God saw everything that he had made, and behold, it was very good.”  

When the created order functions as it was intended, it reflects glory on the Hand that brought it into being.

A contemporary song called “All God’s Creatures Got a Place in the Choir” cites twenty-two different of land, sea, and air.  Each sings to God in its own way: hoot owl, blackbird, duck, porcupine, dogs and cats, honeybee, cricket, donkey, pony, badger, bass, bullfrog, hippopotamus, cow,  ox and fox and grizzly bear, alligator, and hawk, weasel, turtle dove.

Birds “sing out loud on a telephone wire,” while other creatures “just clap their hands, or paws, or anything they've got now.”  Bottom line:  “All God's creatures got a place in the choir.”  Thus, they sing at midnight to the glory of God.

"With Sunny Spells Later"

Pansy and I have frequently discovered food service and gift shops in British churches,  not only in massive cathedrals but in smaller local congregations as well.  Thus, a visit to a house of worship may provide food for the body as well as for the spirit.  In the English town of Bath, we ate in the cafe in the Manvers Baptist church.  Their website shows a membership of 138.

Church gift shops sell postal cards and simple mementos, CDs, Bibles, prayer books, and even original art work.  I remember a painting we saw at  St. Martin-in-the-Fields, a church we have often visited in London.  

St. Martin’s dates at least back to  A. D. 1222 when it was, indeed, surrounded by fields.  But nowadays, St. Martin’s is at Trafalgar Square in the heart of the city and no longer “in the fields.” 

This artist was a Brit named Joylene Lowrance.  We didn’t buy the painting, and in my googling, I haven’t found any information about her.  But people in the painting are braving the rain, some with umbrellas aloft, others with no protection from the elements.  I found the title particularly striking: “With Sunny Spells Later.” We like to think clear skies are the norm, with occasional interference from rainy spells.  But the name for the painting suggests the opposite.

It occurred to me that “Sunny Spells Later” describes the normal emotional and spiritual climate in many lives, perhaps especially in the Christmas season.

Sickness,  accidents, relations with difficult people, job loss or transfer, and death in the family are more common than we like to admit.  When trying times bring dark clouds, perhaps we question God.  This just isn’t the way things are supposed to be, especially not at Christmas.

Sandra Hayward Albertson’s book, Endings and Beginnings, tells of the struggle as she and her husband faced his inoperable cancer and then her adjustment after his death.  Her words suggest hope for sunny spells later:

Health was to be the interlude with the natural course 

        of the disease the main acts of the drama.  What one tries 

        to direct is a play with longer ‘intermissions’ in a tragedy

  that has little to offer in comic relief. 

Psalm 39 is one of the Psalms of Lament.  The singer feels the Lord is sending difficulties upon him as he longs for “sunny spells”:

.  .  . Make me not the scorn of the fool! I am dumb, I do not open my mouth; for it is thou who hast done it. Remove thy stroke from me;  I am spent by the blows of thy hand.  When thou dost chasten man with rebukes for sin, thou dost consume like a moth what is dear to him; surely every man is a mere breath!  

A modern-day echo of the psalm’s lament is from Tevye, the dairyman in Fiddler on the Roof.  In one of his many conversations with the Lord, Tevye says, “I know we’re your Chosen People, but couldn’t you choose somebody else for a change?”

Christmas itself can bring emotional and spiritual stormy times that make us long for sunny spells later. 

*We spend time and energy making lists and then buying presents, perhaps spending more money than we we can afford, for people who couldn’t care less for us or our gifts.

*We gather with family, wondering whether Uncle Joe and Cousin Cynthia can peaceably remain in the same room for an hour or two.

*We gain pounds as we eat and drink too much at dinners and parties, then face the New Year with futile resolutions to lose some of that excess.

*We shed tears of joy as dear ones arrive for a few days or only a few hours.  Then we shed painful tears when the visit ends, wondering when or whether we will be together again. 

*We look around at empty seats, once filled by loved ones we cannot see again until the day when there will be no more parting.

*We see other chairs, left empty by younger family members serving in wars that have little meaning and no apparent ending.  Or those in long-term care.  Or those who live hundreds of miles away and are unable to make the trip with only one day off work.

I love the various aspects of Christmas, but I offer this so we can be alert for the realities of the holidays. Many of us live with unrealistic hopes for the season.

When the rush and excitement are all over, I hope we can look back with gratitude for the sunny spells, short as they were.

Joseph and Mary see sunny spells after the Baby is born, after the shepherds return to their sheep. But then, the Wise Men inquire of Herod regarding the newborn King of the Jews.  This leads the King to order the slaughter of all the little boy babies two years old or younger.  This, in turn, causes Joseph to flee to Egypt with Mary and the Baby.   

As we wait for sunny spells in our lives, we can pray for patience to wait for their arrival and for the faith to believe they will come.

Much of the book of Isaiah suggests “sunny spells” that can help us amid times of storm and darkness:

The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shined. . .  .  For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government will be upon his shoulder, and his name will be called "Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace." Of the increase of his government and of peace there will be no end, upon the throne of David, and over his kingdom, to establish it, and to uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time forth and for evermore.  The zeal of the LORD of hosts will do this (9:2-3; 6-7).

(Abridged from “With Sunny Spells Later” in my book, Once for a Shining Hour, 2011, pp. 183-190.)

Is Everything Lovely?

Twice a year, Pansy and I go to a conference in the tiny village of Cherry Log, Georgia.

They have no hotels or motels in Cherry Log, so when we drive over on the day before the meeting, we stay a few miles to the north in Blue Ridge.

Our ritual includes a Sunday supper at The Village, a buffet in Blue Ridge.

We look forward to the question from a pleasant lady on the restaurant staff.  She stops by our table and asks, “Is everything lovely?”  We assure her: Everything is lovely.

And it is — at least as far as the food and environment in The Village at the moment is concerned.

Outside The Village, the world may be going to hell in the proverbial hand basket, with climate change, endless engagement in war in the Middle East, joblessness, and efforts in Congress to make life miserable for people who need Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid, and the Affordable Care Act (aka Obamacare).

Though I do not minimize serious problems at home and abroad, I believe every generation has had momentous problems.  So, if there ever was or ever will be room for optimism, it will come amid strife and uncertainty.  Consider two examples from optimistic songwriters:

• Carmen Elizabeth Clarke was a nurse at a Vancouver hospital for crippled children in 1947 when she wrote the song, “There’s a Bluebird on Your Windowsill.”

She paid to have the song recorded, but it went on to become a hit, first with Country and Western artists in Canada.  Then it crossed the border into the United States where Doris Day and Bing Crosby were the most notable singers to record it.

The refrain suggests the bluebird’s singing on your sill will fill your heart with happy thoughts, “near enough to make you cry.”  But the song acknowledges other, not so happy, tears that fall along with the emotionally, spiritually rainy days.

The bluebird song may be overly optimistic when it says the clouds will roll away and everything will come our way in answer to prayers.  But don’t knock it if you haven’t tried it.

Short term, God’s answer may not appear from behind the cloud.  But despite the dark clouds of hostile politics and religion that rain on us, if we listen to the bluebird’s song, we may be surprised.

The world was still recovering from the immediate effects of World War Two when Ms Clarke wrote about the bluebird.  But she was inspired, initially, by the crippled kids she sought to nurse and nurture toward health.

She demonstrated her generous spirit by designating children’s hospitals across Canada to receive all the royalties from the million-selling recordings and sheet music (http://www.vancouverhistory.ca/archives_bluebird.htm).

Amid their individual struggles with health in the larger war-torn world, perhaps Ms Clarke enabled these children to answer affirmatively to the question, “Is everything lovely?”

• When Edmund H. Sears wrote “It Came Upon the Midnight Clear” in Boston in 1849, not everything was lovely.  The song's initial words of peace from the angels precede scenes of “sad and lonely plains” and “woes of sin and strife,” as well as “man at war with man” and those “who toil along the climbing way With painful steps and slow.”

To those in such unlovely circumstances, the challenge comes to “rest beside the weary road and hear the angels sing.”  If we can stop to rest, we can look in faith to that day .  .  .

“When peace shall over all the earth

Its ancient splendors fling,

And the whole world give back the song

Which now the angels sing.”

Compete Lyrics:

It came upon the midnight clear,

That glorious song of old,

From angels bending near the earth

To touch their harps of gold.

“Peace on the earth, good will to men

From heaven's all-gracious King”

The world in solemn stillness lay

To hear the angels sing.”

Still through the cloven skies they come

With peaceful wings unfurled,

And still their heavenly music floats

Over all the weary world

Above its sad and lowly plains,

They bend on hovering wing,

And ever over its babel-sounds

The blessed angels sing

Yet with the woes of sin and strife

The world has suffered long.

Beneath the heavenly strain have rolled

Two thousand years of wrong

And man at war with man hears not

The tidings which they bring.

O hush the noise, ye men of strife,

And hear the angels sing.

O ye, beneath life's crushing load

Whose forms are bending low,

Who toil along the climbing way

With painful steps and slow,

Look now, for glad and golden hours

Come swiftly on the wing.

O rest beside the weary road

And hear the angels sing.

For lo, the days are hastening on

By prophets seen of old,

When with the ever-circling years

Shall come the time foretold:

When peace shall over all the earth

Its ancient splendors fling

And the whole world give back the song

Which now the angels sing

Edmund H. Sears wrote the words in 1849 in Boston

(“It Came Upon the Midnight Clear,” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/It_Came_Upon_the_Midnight_Clear#History.)

A Christmas Hymn I Wrote: "An Angel Spoke"

AN ANGEL SPOKE

Lawrence Webb © 2010

Hymn Tune: AURELIA  “The Church’s One Foundation”

Alternate Tune: LANCASHIRE  “Lead On, O King Eternal”

An angel spoke to Mary, 

“All Hail, Blest Virgin dear,

You soon will have a baby.” 

 His words brought her great fear.

“How can this be?” she asked him. 

“I’ve never been with man.”

The angel reassured her, 

“All this is in God’s plan.”

An angel spoke to Joseph, 

When he was lost in grief.

The words were full of comfort, 

They brought him deep relief.

He journeyed far with Mary 

And came to Beth’lem’s town.

There, in a lowly manger, 

They laid their Baby down.

An angel spoke to shepherds, 

Among their flock that night.

The men came to the stable, 

Awe-stricken by the sight.

They knelt before the Baby, 

As parents hovered near.

Then on their way, returning, 

The shepherds spread good cheer.

An angel speaks in our day: 

“To you a Child is born,

Go share the blessed tidings 

With those who are forlorn:

This Child has come to save you, 

Down from His home above.

As you accept His blessings, 

Your hearts will fill with love.”

Rum Pum Pum

        The story of the birth of Jesus stirs the imagination.  At times, that imagination runs wild:

*Animals speak with human voices each year at midnight on Christmas Eve, acknowledging the newborn Son of God.

*The unspecified number of astrologers who followed the star of Bethlehem were transformed through imagination into Three Kings who come to the stable the  same night as the shepherds at the birth of Jesus.

* A little boy who brings his drum and wants to play for Baby Jesus is the central figure in the song, “The Little Drummer Boy.” 

Several different people have been credited as writers of the lyrics and music for the Drummer boy.  It is said to have been written in 1941 but not recorded and released to the public until 1958.  In the half-century or so since it was recorded, the song has found its niche among Christmas songs with enduring popularity.

Told in first person by the Drummer, each line of the story is enveloped in verbal representations of drumbeats: “rum-a-pum-pum.”

He is invited to join others who are bringing their finest gifts as they go to see the Newborn King.  Self-conscious about having nothing tangible to offer, the boy asks whether he might play his drum.  Mary nods approval.  

As the sound of his best licks reaches the Baby’s ears, He seems to smile at the boy and his drum.

A profound thought here should not be drowned out by the rum-a-pum-pums.

Let us use our imagination: 

At the manger, almost hidden from view by the regal Kings from the East, the boy    is self-conscious as they place their gold, frankincense, and myrrh on the ground before the Baby.

His drum is strapped around his neck, as it always is when he goes about. But he has absolutely nothing to place alongside the costly gifts from the Kings for the Baby King.  

Anything the boy has ever owned in his whole life is shoddy by comparison.  What led him here in the first place? But as he looks around, he feels he is no more out of place than those ragged, dirty, smelly shepherds who gather around, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.  It’s the Kings who make the Drummer uneasy.  And the Baby they call King.

Earlier, he heard the shepherds talking among themselves -- about angels and bright lights on the hillside beyond the little town of Bethlehem, how the angels told them to come to town and hunt this Baby whose coming is good news to everyone, for shepherds and, perhaps, he thought, even for a boy with a drum.

Maybe he ought to slip away quietly and play his drum to himself as he heads for home.

He loves to play his drum, and he’s been told, lots of times, that he’s good with it.  Oh, sometimes his mother gets on him for playing so loudly while she’s cooking and doing housework. When that happens, he drifts out along the dirt road of the village, playing as he goes.  That’s when he gets lots of compliments.  An old man down the street has helped him learn different rhythms.  A couple of times, the old man even let him beat time with some men who were playing their lyres and pipes.

At the manger, as he’s wondering whether he should leave, a thought flashes through his mind: He does have one thing he could offer the Little King.  He could play his drum.  But the woman and man might frown and tell him to stop the noise and get out of their way, just like his mother when she wants some peace and quiet.  

Well, should he offer to play, or not?

Yes.  

No.  

Yes. 

No.  

Yes!

The man and woman look up at the shepherds and the Kings and then right at him.

Now’s his chance.  So he asks, hurriedly: “Shall-I-play-for-you-and-your-little-boy?  On-my-drum-I-mean.”

The man smiles.  The woman nods her head, as if to say, “Go ahead.”

So he starts playing, playing with all his might.  One or two of the shepherds slap their knees and bellies as he does some special licks he learned from the old man down the street.  He plays and plays, giving it his very best.  Everybody in the stable seems to be in rhythm.  A passerby stops to look in, then starts snapping his fingers.  Feet are tapping.  Even one of the Kings is patting his hands together.

The boy forgets where he is as he pours himself into his rhythms.  Then he happens to glance down at the Baby.  “He’s looking at me!  He’s looking at me!” the boy thinks. “Can you believe it? He’s smiling!  The Little King is smiling.  He’s smiling at me! He likes my drum!”

When he stops playing, nobody moves or says anything for several seconds.  Then he hears applause.  People gather around and pat him on the back.  

“Great rhythm.”  

“Good show.” 

“How long you been playin’?” one of the shepherds asks.

The Drummer is speechless.  He feels almost outside himself as he continues looking at the Little King and His parents.  As the others drift into the night, the Drummer still stands, still looking in awe at the family in the stable.

Finally, he puts his sticks into his belt and turns to go.  But then, he feels a firm hand on his shoulder.  He looks up into the kind, steady eyes of the man.  “Thank you, young man.  Thank you very much.”  

“Oh, no. Thank you, sir.  Thank you for letting me play for your little boy.”

As the woman begins wrapping the Baby more securely in the wide bands of cloth, she, too, thanks the Drummer. “That was so special.  Thank you for coming to see us tonight.  When he’s old enough to understand, we will tell our son what you did.”

“I wish I had something I could leave with you.”

“Oh, you do.  You do. You’ve given something special.  The sound of your rhythms will linger in our minds longer than you imagine.  You gave him something only you could give.”

Those words ring in the drummer’s ears as he starts for home.  

His fingers tap rhythms almost silently on the drumhead as he walks briskly through the chill night air.  He smiles to himself as he says over and over, “The Little Baby King smiled at me.  He smiled at me.  He smiled at me and my drum.”

St. Paul praised the early Christians in Macedonia who gave “beyond their means, of their own free will.  The key was, they first they gave themselves to the Lord and to us by the will of God (2 Corinthians 8:3-5).  This is what the drummer did as he played for the Newborn King.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=qJ_MGWio-vc

Santa the All-Wise, All-Knowing

"He knows if you've been bad or good, So be good, for goodness sake!”

A preschool girl was in the bank as her mother waited for a teller.  It wouldn’t be correct to say the child was in the line with her mother.  Rather, she roamed among the bank staff desks that were arranged around the lobby.

In an effort to keep her daughter in line, the mother said, “Why don’t you go over there and get a sucker from the nice lady and then come back to me?”  The little girl got her sucker, but she continued walking around the room.

“Now be a good girl and get back on line. If you’re not a good girl, the bank will take your sucker away from you.”

It didn’t work.  The girl continued her expedition as the mother remained in line.

This empty threat of the child losing her sucker calls to mind the songs, “Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town” and "Here Comes Santa Claus.  

Eddie Cantor was a comedian and singer in the old Vaudeville stage shows, early movies, and the golden age of radio.  Cantor premiered “Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town” on his network radio show at Thanksgiving 1934.  J. Fred Coots, a co-author of the song, was a writer for Cantor’s show.  

Children are warned to “watch out” and not to pout or cry because Santa is “comin’.”  Then they get details of Santa’s great knowledge:  He knows whether they are asleep or awake and whether they’ve been bad or good.  He keeps a list and double-checks to see who’s been naughty and who’s been nice.

All in fun?

Probably so, but .  .  .

Doesn’t this sounds a lot like God?

Do you think the kiddos might equate the Jolly Old Elf with the Father Almighty, Maker of Heaven and Earth?

“Here Comes Santa Claus” goes an extra step, offering an outright sermonette regarding the Jolly Old Elf:  

Tykes are encouraged to jump into their beds and cover their heads, after they hang their stockings and say their prayers, in anticipation of Santa Claus’s imminent arrival.  He doesn’t care if the kids are rich or poor: He loves them all alike.  He knows we’re all God’s children, and the biblical promise of peace on earth will come true “if we just follow the light.”

Both these songs have an element in common with the woman in the bank lobby: They attempt to manipulate children into obedience with deliberate misinformation.  The mother’s tactics are a poor approach to discipline for a young child.  The songs ascribing divine omniscience to Santa Clause contain faulty theology.

Both songs were written for popular commercial appeal rather than for Sunday school instruction.  Still, they convey wrong impressions as they impute godlike knowledge to this mythical Bringer of Gifts.

Many parents use Santa Claus as an innocent game during their children’s formative years.  But if there is more than one child, parents often try to preserve and protect the innocence of young children when the firstborn connects the dots after discovering brightly wrapped presents in a closet.

Still other parents consider Santa Claus almost as indispensable to proper observance of Christmas as Jesus.  When I was old enough to doubt — perish the thought — my mother defended his reality:  “He is the spirit of loving and giving.”  And, since parents also are all-knowing, I’d better watch out — for my sake.

In the United States, it’s probably impossible to grow up without Santa Claus.  We didn’t do Santa Claus with our sons.  We simply gave presents.  But, lo, and behold, our younger son imported the Old Boy from friends at school and church and the neighborhood.  Then he, in turn, taught this tradition to his kids.

I know I’m fighting a futile battle.  And I don’t really fight it.  I mostly just grimace when I encounter this fol-de-rol.

Definition of fol-de-rol: nonsense.

The Celestial Architect

A German carol, probably not too well-known in the United States, depicts Jesus as the builder of the heavens:

Lo, within a manger lies

He who built the starry skies .  .  .

Those words from “See Amid the Winter’s Snow” express the central teaching of the Christian church: 

In Bethlehem’s manger that drew shepherds away from their flock one night, there lay a little baby boy who was one with God and who created everything that has been created (John 1:1-3).

The song begins with these astounding statements about that Holy Babe, then includes an interview with the shepherds, and concludes with a prayer.

FIRST STANZA

Jesus is fulfillment of Hebrew prophecy — “Promised from eternal years.”  In keeping with the shepherd theme, He is the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” (John 1:36) and “the Lamb who was slain” and is worthy “to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and  blessing!” (Revelation 5:12)

See amid the winter’s snow,

Born for us on earth below,

See, the gentle Lamb appears,

Promised from eternal years.

SECOND STANZA

Here, Jesus is the divine architect, enthroned among the angels:

Lo, within a manger lies

He Who built the starry skies;

He Who, thronèd in height sublime,

Sits amid the cherubim.

THIRD STANZA

Now, an interviewer questions the shepherds about what took them away from their responsibilities with the sheep:

Say, you holy shepherds, say,

Tell your joyful news today.

Why have you now left your sheep

On the lonely mountain steep?

FOURTH STANZA

The shepherds answer the questioner in words reflecting Luke 2:

“As we watched at dead of night,

Lo, we saw a wondrous light;

Angels singing ‘Peace on earth’

Told us of the Savior’s birth.”

FIFTH AND SIXTH STANZAS

The carol then concludes with a prayer asking Jesus, the “Sacred Infant” and “holy Child,” to make us more like Him:

Sacred Infant, all divine,

What a tender love was Thine,

Thus to come from highest bliss

Down to such a world as this.

Teach, O teach us, holy Child,

By Thy face so meek and mild,

Teach us to resemble Thee,

In Thy sweet humility.

REFRAIN

The alternate title, “Hymn for Christmas Day,” is reflected in the recurring chorus that celebrates the dawning of redemption as “Christ is born in Bethlehem.”

Hail that ever blessèd morn,

Hail redemption’s happy dawn,

Sing through all Jerusalem:

Christ is born in Bethlehem.

Edward Caswall's words first appeared in 1851 in Ea­sy Hymn Tunes…Adapt­ed for Ca­tho­lic Schools.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=8TjM-Ih5LP4