December

CHRISTMAS

At the census in the city
8.7.8.7D

At the census in the city,
at the crossing place of life,
where the homeless and abandoned
share the scars of human strife;
mid the rubble and the ruins
shedding God's prophetic light
see, a star is softly shining
through the horror of the night.

In the cross of shafting shadows
see a mother and her child,
see the wetness of his features,
freshly born, so not yet filed.
In a world of cold statistics
yet another mouth to feed,
for the parents' love holds tension
with a calling, crying need.

So from Bethlehem in hist'ry
to this present place and time,
God has entered human anguish,
sung in tune to human rhyme;
yes, the baby that we welcome,
yes, the Christ of Palestine,
are as one, we seal remembrance
in a feast of bread and wine.

For the ruin of the manger,
this prefig'ring of the cross,
offers Christ as our relation
in our chaos and our loss,
puts the Christ into the present,
places God in human hands,
tests our loving and our living
here in this and every land.

Andrew Pratt © Stainer & Bell Ltd. Available for local use by those having a CCL Licence. Administered in the USA by Hope Publishing
6/9/2002
Tune: Bethany (UK)
Jenny Spouge had written: It struck me that there might be something for a hymnwriter such as you when the place of Christ's birth is currently rather in need of redemption. Any chance that might fuel the creative juices and you could get something to Janet? As the text evolved it became not just a Christmas hymn but one linked to Easter and suitable for Communion.

A babel of confusion,
This maze of light and sound;
The images attract us,
Turn values upside down:
We sought a world of justice
Where chaos would not win,
But now God's calming cadence
Is silenced by the din.

We mock the incarnation
Through every glittering phase:
At worst a gross distortion,
At best a paraphrase;
To celebrate self-giving
We double-bolt the door,
Then safe within our comfort
We castigate the poor;

The stable hung with tinsel,
A sentimental play,
The carols and the candles
Become a false display;
So far is all this worship,
Our piety displays,
From love without condition,
As hatred is from praise.

Andrew E Pratt (born 1948)
© 1996 Stainer & Bell Ltd
7.6.7.6.D. Iambic

A ship is coming laden,
And rich indeed her hoard;
The Son of God the Father
And his eternal Word.

The ships sails soft, her burden
Of price all measure past:
Her mainsail, it is charity,
The Holy Ghost the mast.

The ship has dropped her anchor,
Is safely come to land;
Th' eternal Word in likeness
Of man on earth doth stand.

In Bethlehem of Judah
A child to us is born;
Sing praises ever unto him
Who saves a world forlorn.

Whoever would embrace him
With joy and holy kiss
Must share with him the Passion
Through which he comes to bliss.

Be with him in his dying,
His resurrection know,
Eternal life inherit
That he comes to bestow.

Es kommt ein Schiff geladen by Johannes Tauler (c.1300-1361) translated by Alan Luff (born 1928) and Enid Luff (born 1935)
English translation © 1997 Stainer & Bell Ltd.
7.6.7.6. Iambic

All they wanted was a shelter,
Just a place to call their own,
But there wasn't room to house them
In that overcrowded town:
For it seems the Welfare Service
Was the sort that soon breaks down.
So don't sing alleluia
And don't sing gloria!

They were strangers. Galileans,
And the man a carpenter.
Though not quite the helpless people
Who are permanently poor,
No one beckoned them to enter
As they knocked from door to door.
So don't sing alleluia
And don't sing gloria!

She was pregnant, more's the pity,
And her time was not far off.
It's the awkward complication
That upsets a planner's graph:
If it wasn't so pathetic
It would make the angels laugh.
So don't sing alleluia
And don't sing gloria!

As we know, they found a lodging
In the backyard of an inn:
Not the best accommodation
She could have her baby in -
But it's all a God can hope for
When he's up against our sin.
So don't sing alleluia
And don't sing gloria!

But to know that his salvation
Is an all embracing care:
But to see what Christ is doing
And to find a way to share:
Is to sing our hymns and carols
As a challenge to despair.
Alleluia, alleluia
Alleluia, gloria!

Fred Pratt Green 1903-2000
© 1975 Stainer & Bell Ltd
8.7.8.7.8.7.7.6. Irregular

As Jesus Christ lay fast asleep
And bedded in a manger,
Some simple shepherds left their sheep
To find the Heavenly Stranger.
The Morning Star that shone so bright
On travelling men benighted
Their footsteps guided to the place where, kneeling they recited:
For joy of the Boy we will sing you this carol,
Though gruff are our voices and rough our apparel:
God make you right merry this Christmas!
Though sheep may be stupid, they know they must follow
The shepherd who leads them by hillside and hollow:
God make you right merry this Christmas!

As Wise Men guided by a star
Alighted at that manger,
They wondered why they came so far
To find so small a stranger;
But being wise they thought again,
And owned themselves delighted
That God was speaking through a child, so, kneeling they recited:
Though wise men are foolish, they know they must follow
Wherever truth leads them by hillside or hollow:
So God make you merry this Christmas!
As sign that our sorrows say more than our pleasures,
For joy of the Boy we offer these treasures:
So God make you merry this Christmas!

Fred Pratt Green 1903-2000 from an old Welsh Carol
© 1974 Stainer & Bell Ltd
8.7.8.7.8.7 15.12 12.9.12 12.9.

At Bethlehem, when
the inn was crowded,
Mary in labour
came by no room.
Unknown, unhonoured,
inside an outhouse
among the cattle
was Christ's first home.

Within my heart there
are strange possessors
donkeys of folly,
oxen of scorn.
Can these companion
life's truest treasure?
Within this stable
can Christ be born?

But there are others-
my heart, take courage!-
shepherds of soul and
sages of head,
and these will tender
their humble homage.
Come, Christ to me for
your manger-bed.

John Ferguson (1921-1989)
© 1982 Stainer & Bell Ltd
5 5 5 4 D

Born in Bethlehem, a stranger,
Jesus, lying in a manger,
born to face earth's grief and danger,
share with us your innocence.

Faced with viewpoints in profusion,
chafed by doubt and faith's confusion,
we have shared earth's disillusion:
Lord, we need your innocence.

In a world where self-obsession,
petty meanness and aggression
deal out terror and oppression,
shame us with your innocence.

Child of God, whose grace has found us,
let your humble love astound us,
deeper than all evil round us:
such stupendous innocence!

Child of joy and jubilation,
in our Christmas celebration,
let us find our true vocation
in your new-born innocence.

Alan Gaunt (born 1935)
© 1999 Stainer & Bell Ltd
8 8 8 7.

Break forth, O pure celestial light
And usher in the morning:
You shepherds, shrink not with affright,
But hear the angel's warning.
This child now weak in infancy,
Our confidence and joy shall be,
The power of Satan breaking,
Our peace eternal making.

This night of wonder, night of joy,
Was born the Christ, our Brother;
He comes, not mighty to destroy,
To bid us love each other.
How could he quit his kingly state
For such a world of greed and hate?
What deep humiliation
Secured the world's salvation!

Come, dearest child, into our hearts,
And leave your crib behind you!
Let this be where the new life starts
For all who seek and find you.
To you be honour, thanks and praise,
For all your gifts this time of grace:
Come, conquer and deliver
The world, and us, for ever.

Fred Pratt Green 1903-2000 verses 2 & 3 based on 17th Century German and John Troutbeck (1832-1899) verse 1 translated from Johann Rist (1607-1667) Brich an, O schönes Morgenlicht
© 1989 Stainer & Bell Ltd
8.7.8.7.8 8.7 7.

Child, when Herod wakes,
and hate or exploitation
swing their dripping swords,
from your cross and cradle
sing a new song.

Child, when Caesar's laws
choke love or strangle freedom,
calling darkness light,
from your cross and cradle
sing a new song.

Child, when Caiaphas
sends truth to crucifixion
to protect his prayers,
from your cross and cradle
sing a new song.

Child, your helpless love
brings death and resurrection:
joyfully we come
to your cross and cradle
with a new song-
Alleluia!

Brian Wren (born 1936)
© 1993 Stainer & Bell Ltd
5.7.5.6.4.

Christmas lights up dark December.
Hearts and homes are all aglow
as together we remember
truth that only faith may know,
how a mother
in her baby
found her Saviour long ago.

Yet around that starlit manger
gather ancient shades of ill.
Other babies are in danger.
Herod's minions shoot to kill.
Bitter sorrow
cries to Heaven
'Can this be the Father's will?'

Light of every dark December
set the Christian Church aglow
as together we remember
truth that only hope may know,
how the nations
in that Saviour
find a love to heal their woe.

Elizabeth Cosnett (born 1936)
© 2000 Stainer & Bell Ltd
8.7.8.7.4.4.7.

Christmas will come
Where the summer is high
And the stars of the Cross
Will be shining in the sky.
Oh the stars of the Cross
Are shining in the sky
And a-carolling
A-carolling we go.

In the north and the south.
In the sun or the snow,
They will tell of the song
And the singer that they know.
Chorus

Like a bell that is silent
Until it is rung
Your love like a carol
Is waiting to be sung.
Chorus

For all men and women
To bring it to birth
The carol of love
Will be coming to the Earth.
Chorus

In the north and the wouth
In the sun or the snow
They will cradle the song
And the singer that they know.
Chorus

Christmas will come
Where the summer is high
And the stars of the Cross
Will be shining in the sky.
Chorus

Sydney Carter (born 1915)
© 1982 Stainer & Bell Ltd.
Irregular

Come, all that are weary,
despairing or lonely,
find God where a baby is born;
where Mary exultant
embraces her infant,
your joy that seems distant will dawn.
Though here, like your sorrow,
the cross casts its shadow
and Mary tomorrow will mourn,
this love, celebrated,
is never defeated,
though flesh may be tortured and torn.
The gift that God gives us,
we find it in Jesus,
whose love ever joins us to joy;
faith's wisdom discovers
the richest of treasures,
where Mary embraces her boy.

Where love is rejected,
earth's children tormented
and nations infected with fear,
the lamb, here so helpless,
is God's sign of greatness,
though all who chase status may sneer;
So guileless and gentle,
surrounded by evil,
his power as God's Christ will increase.
He calls us to service,
to work for his justice,
fulfilling his promise of peace.
The gift that God gives us,
We find it in Jesus,
whose love ever joins us to joy;
faith's wisdom discovers
the richest of treasures,
where Mary embraces her boy.

Alan Gaunt (born 1935)
© 1999 Stainer & Bell Ltd
668.668.668.D.

Come and be surprised, all nations,
here behold the love divine;
love to still all aspirations:
God concerned with humankind.
Come and see this speechless speaking,
see the Word in human form;
love through every barrier breaking,
love as basis, end and norm.

Come and see how Jesus entered
earthly life, as did we all;
see how kings and workers centred
round this baby in a stall.
See him, who in splendour great is,
for a time in homely care;
see how Christ in humble status
came with us our life to share.

To your holy invitation
we respond, and come, and see.
Kindle our imagination,
that our joy may lasting be.
Jesus, by your coming save us,
by your passion heal our pain;
let no fear nor death enslave us:
by your Easter may we reign!

Fred Kaan (born 1929)
© 1968 Stainer & Bell Ltd
8.7.8.7.D.

Do shepherds stand tonight
On Notting Hill?
And are there found among us
Those with eyes to see
The new-born Christ in some unlikely place of need
Coming, coming, coming once more in obscurity?

Are there yet those who run
At dead of night
And shout to rouse their neighbours
From uneasy sleep
Waking the city to celebrate God's peace on earth
Sharing, sharing, sharing the vigil that the angels keep?

Are there among us still
Even today
People who look for longing
For compassion here
Giving themselves for others on our city streets
Working, working, working for peace and the end of fear?

The ancient story comes
From Bethlehem
And brings to those who listen
Words of peace and joy
Binding us fast to hope and to all mankind
Making, making, making us followers of Mary's Boy.

Geoffrey Ainger (born 1925)
© 1969 Stainer & Bell Ltd.
6.4.7.5.12.13.

Donkey, come and bow,
goat and sheep and cow;
every humble beast adore him;
wolf and lion, meek before him,
let him lead you now.

Let this infant's birth
fill your hearts with mirth,
carolling, repeat the story
of the holy child whose glory
brings us peace on earth.

In distress, draw near,
bring your troubles here;
let his gentle hand uphold you
and his perfect love enfold you,
banishing all fear.

Cruelty will cease,
gentleness increase;
in his human body, broken,
God's eternal Word is spoken:
we are promised peace.

No one will destroy,
guided by this boy;
by his dying love directed
we will find his peace perfected,
in eternal joy.

Alan Gaunt (born 1935)
© 1996 Stainer & Bell Ltd
5.5.8.8.5.

Each year we sing with bated Christmas voice
as if events in Bethlehem were nice;
when every house and pub had shut its door
and Mary in a shed her baby bore.

Forgive us, God, that things are still the same,
that Christ is homeless under other names;
still holy fam'lies to our cities come
where life is sick and sore in crowded slum.

God, make it clear that joy will be denied
unless the door into our life stands wide;
that even with our tables richly spread
our house of life is short of living bread.

Give to your people restlessness of soul
till right is done and life is healed and whole;
keep us impatient till the time has come
when all your children are on earth at home.

Fred Kaan (born 1929)
© 1968 Stainer & Bell Ltd
10 10.10 10. Iambic

God's angels in crowds, sing their songs at his birth,
The first Christmas Day;
The infant, God's infant, is born on the earth:
Yes, Jesus, your pride and your Saviour.

God's people on earth! he awaits your embrace,
On each Christmas Day;
With peace, come to save you, and bring you God's grace:
Your Jesus, your pride and your Saviour.

All glory to God, in the heavens, amen!
Each glad Christmas Day,
Who now, in his image, creates us again,
With Jesus, our pride and our Saviour.

Guds engle i flok by N. F. S. Grundtvig (1783-1872) translated by Alan Gaunt (born 1935)
English translation © Stainer & Bell Ltd
© Stainer & Bell Ltd
11.5.11.9.

Hail, undiminished love,
destroyed, yet resurrected,
foreshadowed and foreseen,
yet always unexpected.

Through old, familiar forms,
in weekly repetition,
God startles us with grace,
yet makes no imposition:

Exotic angel hosts
can show us nothing stranger
than pregnancy and birth,
and parents at a manger.

No scripture, star or sign
can guarantee the Saviour:
a child, a man, a life
are all there is on offer.

He calls us to decide-
for love, or domination,
for tenderness, or pride,
for justice, or oppression.

Hail, unexpected love
in old, familiar story:
this ordinary birth
is Christ, the hope of glory!

Brian Wren (born 1936)
© 1986, 1996 Stainer & Bell Ltd
6.7.6.7.

Her baby, newly breathing,
with wailing needful cry,
by Mary kissed and cradled,
is lulled in lullaby.
Long months of hope and waiting,
the thrill and fear of birth,
are crowned with exultation,
and God is on the earth.

The eyes that gaze at Mary
have yet to name or trace
the world of shape and colour,
or recognize a face;
yet Holiness Eternal
is perfectly expressed
in hands that clutch unthinking,
and lips that tug the breast.

The milk of life is flowing
as Mary guides and feeds
her wordless Word, embodied
in infant joys and needs.
Enormous, formless strivings,
and yearnings deep and wide,
becradled in communion,
are fed and satisfied.

How mother-like the Wisdom
that carried and gave birth
to all things, seen and unseen,
and nurtured infant earth:
unstinting, unprotected,
prepared for nail and thorn,
constricted into maleness,
and of a woman born.

Brian Wren (born 1936)
© 1989 Stainer & Bell Ltd
7.6.7.6.D.

If I could visit Bethlehem,
what presents would I bring?
If I could see what happened then,
what would I say or sing?

I wouldn't take a modern toy,
but gold to pay for bread,
some wine to give his parents joy,
and wool to warm his bed.

I'd learn some simple words to speak
in Aramaic tongue.
I'd cradle him, and kiss his cheek,
and say, "I'm glad you've come."

If Mary asked me who I was
and what her child would do;
I wouldn't talk about the cross,
or tell her all I knew.

I'd say, "He'll never hurt or kill,
and joy will follow tears.
We'll know his name and love him still,
in twenty hundred years."

I cannot visit Bethlehem,
but what I can, I'll do:
I'll love you, Jesus as my friend,
and give my life to you.

Brian Wren (born 1936)
© 1990 Stainer & Bell Ltd
CM

Jesus is God's gift to us
Born on Christmas Day.
How we love to think of him
Sleeping in the hay!
The calf said MOO!
And the lamb said BAA!
And the donkey stamped his feet;
And Joseph said HUSH!
And Mary smiled
As Kings and Shepherds hurried to greet
The Christ Child!
The Christ Child!
The Christ Child!

This is why on Christmas Day
Gifts are on the tree.
This is why I love to give,
And others give to me.
Chorus

Jesus is God's gift to us,
This and every day,
How we love to think of him
Sleeping in the hay!
Chorus

Fred Pratt Green 1903-2000
© 1972 Stainer & Bell Ltd
7.5.7.5. and Chorus

Lo! Today into our world the Word is born,
To declare to man the Father's deep love and concern.
Heaven itself teaches us how great the mystery:
Glory to God and peace on earth, alleluia!

Lo! Today into our darkness has shone the Light,
To restore eyesight to men who are groping in night.
All his vast universe bathes in his mystery:
Glory to God and peace on earth, alleluia!

Lo! Today into our death the Life breaks in,
To transform the hearts of men who are hardened by sin.
Love shall be stronger far than all our misery:
Glory to God and peace on earth, alleluia!

Lo! Today into our flesh the Lord descends,
To unite the men who wait to be counted his friends.
Off'ring him to his Father, Mary kneels rev'rently:
Glory to God and peace on earth, alleluia!

Aujourd'hui dans notre monde le Verbe est né by Didier Rimaud (born 1922) and translated by Fred Pratt Green 1903-2000
English translation © 1974 Stainer & Bell Ltd
Irregular

Maker of the sun and moon,
And mother of the earth,
Comes to life in human form,
To bless all human birth:
To bless all human birth:
Glory to God!
Maker, Spirit, Son!
Giver and Gift,
- In love enfolded in One!

Give us grace to feel you near
To sense your truth and see;
Breathe into our lungs, and limbs,
That we might holy be:
That we might holy be:
Chorus

Lord of every living thing,
Conceived in woman's womb:
May we find you deep inside
Our lives, and make you room:
Our lives, and make you room:
Chorus

Mary magnifies her Lord:
Then let us praise God's deed
As God's reign begins this way,
And we from sin are freed:
And we from sin are freed:
Chorus

Jesus lay in Mary's arms
God's future at her breast -
Proved his love for all the world -
Puts our love to the test:
Puts our love to the test:
Chorus

Peter Sharrocks (born 1940)
© 1993 Stainer & Bell Ltd & The Trustees for Methodist Church Purposes
7.6.7.6 6. Trochaic & Refrain

Mary, Mary, quite contrary,
rebel, giving ear to God,
earth-soprano*, singing freedom:
Zion's song in 'yes' and blood;

earmarked Mary, world-affirming,
in compliance giving birth,
your defiance** gave us Jesus,
Word-among-us, run to earth.

Mary, mouthpiece of God's people***,
Sister Chosen, giving voice,
Ave Mary****, Eve of Easter,
Bibi Maryam*****, Sister Choice;

Mary/Miriam******, ever-bearing
life as hope for all to share,
make us, women, men and children
as expectant as you are!

This hymn is given with essential footnotes, or asterisks (diminutive for stars).

* Soprano comes from the same root as sovereign (sovrano - Italian), and has something to do with being high or supreme. Some traditions call Mary 'Queen of Heaven'. She is in a sense 'prima donna', first lady - yet, as in a choir, she is first among equals. All the choir is (God-)parent to Jesus, who is the Child of humanity.

** Mary wasn't just a compliant woman whom we often tend to glamorise by turning her into a somewhat ethereal figure, tall, slim and blonde, like a Swedish filmstar, dressed in immaculate (!) blue - Presbyterian blue - on a plinth in a niche with suitable back-lighting. Her aceptance of her role was very much an act of defiance: what will the neighbours have said, or the elders of the synagogue.

*** The Magnificat isn't exclusively Mary's own work. If there had been some Zealot copyright lawyer around at the time, he could have taken her to court for committing plagiarism. Almost all her song is quotation from the Old Testament. She makes herself a mouthpiece of the whole people of God;
she becomes that 'daughter of Zion' (see verse 1, line 4). There are only two original lines in the Magnificat: 'My soul magnifies the Lord' (Luke 1:46) and 'henceforth all generations shall call me blessed' (vs 48).
J. S. Bach with his uncanny sensitivity to the secondary layers of the bible, seems to have rumbled verse 48. In his version of the Magnificat he has the choir sing 'omnes generationes' (all generations) no less than 96 times! Mary's own words, as distinct from those she recalls and quotes, are future-orientated - she 'remembers forward'. How could it be other-wise? She was
pregnant, for God's sake!

**** Ave Maria (Hail Mary). Read Ave backwards and you get Eva, which is how most European languages spell Eve... but of course, eve is also the forerunner of the coming dawn.

***** Maryam (a two-syllable word, with the y pronounced as in year) is the name whereby Mary is known among Muslims. Bibi is a term of veneration used for women saints and prophets.

****** Mary in Hebrew is Miriam, meaning 'the rebellious one' (see verse 1, lines 1 and 2). Moses' sister Miriam led the women in a triumphant song-and-dance routine after Israel's liberating trek through the Red Sea (see verse 1, line 3).

Fred Kaan (born 1929)
© 1999 Stainer & Bell Ltd
8. 7. 8. 7. Trochaic

Mary set out on a winter's night,
Joseph by her side to give her light,
They'd many long miles to go that night,
Before they reached the town O,
Town O, town O,
They'd many long miles to go that night,
Before they reached the town O.

They walked 'til they came to the first big inn,
Knocked at the door, 'Will you let us in?
We've come many miles to Bethlehem,
In order to be counted,
Counted, counted,
We've come many miles to Bethlehem,
In order to be counted.'

The innkeeper looked at them both and said,
'I have no room', and he shook his head,
'There's many come to sleep and be fed,
And all my rooms are taken,
Taken, taken,
There's many come to sleep and be fed,
And all my rooms are taken.'

They tried everywhere but they all said 'No'.
It seemed to them both they had no place to go,
'Til at last a man smiled and said, 'I know,
Come and spend the night in my stable,
Stable, stable',
'Til at last a man smiled and said, 'I know,
Come spend the night in my stable.'

The shelter was cold and the stable bare,
Yet here was a man who seemed to care,
And on that night to that lonely pair,
A baby was born called Jesus,
Jesus, Jesus,
And on that night to that lonely pair,
A baby was born called Jesus.

Susan Moxon (fl.1972)
© 1972 Stainer & Bell Ltd
Irregular

Not mine, not mine the wisdom
Of palaces and courts,
But weak my understanding
And ignorant my thoughts.

But simple things I value,
As wonder, faith and love,
And sacrifice for others,
And thanks to One above.

And little lambs and babies
Have always been my joy.
In Bethlehem I found once
A mother and a boy.

He lay within a stable,
A manger for his doss.
And smiled, and stretched his arms out
In pattern of a cross.

John Ferguson (1921-1989)
© 1982 Stainer & Bell Ltd
7 6 7 6 Iambic

O Child, most truly God's own Son,
O crib, O throne of Solomon,
O stall, O place of pure delight,
O straw, like roses red and white!
Infant in the stall, all our Sins destroy!
Infant in the straw, give us joy!

O Child, most wonderful your birth,
Your gracious coming to our earth!
Milk-white, blood-red, your body gives
Fresh courage to our humble lives.
Chorus

Your hair is curly, gold your head,
Your eyes are clear, your lips are red,
Most beautiful, most honey-sweet
Your body is from head to feet.
Chorus

Like ivory your snow-white skin,
A glowing sapphire set therein,
The sapphire is the Godhead great,
The ivory your mortal state.
Chorus

Your hands are full of summer flowers
That smell more sweetly after showers;
You sparkle, Child, more beautiful
Than if the sun were in the stall.
Chorus

The Godhead lies within your breast
To grant the heart its chief request;
Heav'n has itself no greater grace
Than clearly shines in your sweet face.
Chorus

Fred Pratt Green 1903-2000 from a traditional Swiss text
© 1980 Stainer & Bell Ltd
8 8.8 8.10 8.

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