People, look East
Dec. 23rd, 2012 03:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ancientandmodernPeople, look east. The time is near
Of the crowning of the year.
Make your house fair as you are able,
Trim the hearth and set the table.
People, look east and sing today:
Love, the guest, is on the way.
Furrows, be glad. Though earth is bare,
One more seed is planted there:
Give up your strength the seed to nourish,
That in course the flower may flourish.
People, look east and sing today:
Love, the rose, is on the way.
Birds, though you long have ceased to build,
Guard the nest that must be filled.
Even the hour when wings are frozen
God for fledging time has chosen.
People, look east and sing today:
Love, the bird, is on the way.
Stars, keep the watch. When night is dim
One more light the bowl shall brim,
Shining beyond the frosty weather,
Bright as sun and moon together.
People, look east and sing today:
Love, the star, is on the way.
Angels, announce with shouts of mirth
Christ who brings new life to earth.
Set every peak and valley humming
With the word, the Lord is coming.
People, look east and sing today:
Love, the Lord, is on the way.
Five of my favourite incarnational metaphors in one hymn. I must admit to only having found out about the birds today; I think leaving them out is a shocking waste.
First, the Guest. I think the reason that I love this hymn so much is that the first verse ('make your house fair as you are able, trim the hearth and set the table') takes me straight back to the Alison Uttley stories of country Christmases, and, with them, my own childhood Christmases. The theme of hospitality - or lack of it - is one that echoes all around the Christmas story (is there room at the inn?) and comes through in many traditions - leaving an empty space at the Polish Christmas Eve feast, for example.
The Rose. This is a lovely image, rich with the scriptural idea of the root of Jesse, the medieval 'rose e'er blooming', the rose that blooms in the cold, dark winter. This verse also brings to mind 'Now the green blade riseth', of course - itself sung to the tune of a Christmas carol. You can't have the Resurrection without the Crucifixion without the Incarnation. It's all one.
The Bird. The Holy Spirit coming down like a dove, Jesus like the hen gathering her chicks, the dove for peace on earth on every other Christmas card - and that achingly vulnerable picture of the nest in the snow. The sense, too, that this is something costly to those who associate with it.
The Star. The morning star, the light that shines in the darkness, and that image of how Christmas night should be, that great blue bowl stretching from horizon to horizon, studded with stars. I love stars.
And the angels - except this verse isn't about angels, it's about the peaks and the valleys, going up into the high mountains to say, Arise, shine, for your light has come; it's about how every valley shall be exalted and every mountain and hill made low, the crooked straight, and the rough places plain.
Love, the Lord, is on the way.
This, perhaps, is the greatest thing that Eleanor Farjeon does in this hymn. She takes these ancient, resonant metaphors, and makes it absolutely, perfectly clear, that who is coming is Love. Just in case we had forgotten. We might. I often do.
I don't think I can do any better than quote the commentary here on Farjeon herself:
"People, Look East" was written by Eleanor Farjeon (1881-1965) and was first published as "Carol of Advent" in Part 3 of "Modern Texts Written for or Adapted to Traditional Tunes" in The Oxford Book of Carols, 1928. Farjeon, a native of London, was a devout Catholic who viewed her faith as "a progression toward which her spiritual life moved rather than a conversion experience." (The Presbyterian Hymnal Companion, p. 323) She achieved acclaim as an author of children's nursery rhymes and singing games, and is best remembered for her poem "Morning Has Broken." BESANÇON, an ancient carol, first appeared in Christmas Carols New and Old, 1871, as the setting for "Shepherds, Shake Off Your Drowsy Sleep," and was titled CHANTONS, BARGIÉS, NOUÉ, NOUÉ.
Of the crowning of the year.
Make your house fair as you are able,
Trim the hearth and set the table.
People, look east and sing today:
Love, the guest, is on the way.
Furrows, be glad. Though earth is bare,
One more seed is planted there:
Give up your strength the seed to nourish,
That in course the flower may flourish.
People, look east and sing today:
Love, the rose, is on the way.
Birds, though you long have ceased to build,
Guard the nest that must be filled.
Even the hour when wings are frozen
God for fledging time has chosen.
People, look east and sing today:
Love, the bird, is on the way.
Stars, keep the watch. When night is dim
One more light the bowl shall brim,
Shining beyond the frosty weather,
Bright as sun and moon together.
People, look east and sing today:
Love, the star, is on the way.
Angels, announce with shouts of mirth
Christ who brings new life to earth.
Set every peak and valley humming
With the word, the Lord is coming.
People, look east and sing today:
Love, the Lord, is on the way.
Five of my favourite incarnational metaphors in one hymn. I must admit to only having found out about the birds today; I think leaving them out is a shocking waste.
First, the Guest. I think the reason that I love this hymn so much is that the first verse ('make your house fair as you are able, trim the hearth and set the table') takes me straight back to the Alison Uttley stories of country Christmases, and, with them, my own childhood Christmases. The theme of hospitality - or lack of it - is one that echoes all around the Christmas story (is there room at the inn?) and comes through in many traditions - leaving an empty space at the Polish Christmas Eve feast, for example.
The Rose. This is a lovely image, rich with the scriptural idea of the root of Jesse, the medieval 'rose e'er blooming', the rose that blooms in the cold, dark winter. This verse also brings to mind 'Now the green blade riseth', of course - itself sung to the tune of a Christmas carol. You can't have the Resurrection without the Crucifixion without the Incarnation. It's all one.
The Bird. The Holy Spirit coming down like a dove, Jesus like the hen gathering her chicks, the dove for peace on earth on every other Christmas card - and that achingly vulnerable picture of the nest in the snow. The sense, too, that this is something costly to those who associate with it.
The Star. The morning star, the light that shines in the darkness, and that image of how Christmas night should be, that great blue bowl stretching from horizon to horizon, studded with stars. I love stars.
And the angels - except this verse isn't about angels, it's about the peaks and the valleys, going up into the high mountains to say, Arise, shine, for your light has come; it's about how every valley shall be exalted and every mountain and hill made low, the crooked straight, and the rough places plain.
Love, the Lord, is on the way.
This, perhaps, is the greatest thing that Eleanor Farjeon does in this hymn. She takes these ancient, resonant metaphors, and makes it absolutely, perfectly clear, that who is coming is Love. Just in case we had forgotten. We might. I often do.
I don't think I can do any better than quote the commentary here on Farjeon herself:
"People, Look East" was written by Eleanor Farjeon (1881-1965) and was first published as "Carol of Advent" in Part 3 of "Modern Texts Written for or Adapted to Traditional Tunes" in The Oxford Book of Carols, 1928. Farjeon, a native of London, was a devout Catholic who viewed her faith as "a progression toward which her spiritual life moved rather than a conversion experience." (The Presbyterian Hymnal Companion, p. 323) She achieved acclaim as an author of children's nursery rhymes and singing games, and is best remembered for her poem "Morning Has Broken." BESANÇON, an ancient carol, first appeared in Christmas Carols New and Old, 1871, as the setting for "Shepherds, Shake Off Your Drowsy Sleep," and was titled CHANTONS, BARGIÉS, NOUÉ, NOUÉ.