The Work of Christmas
The Work of Christmas
When the song of the angels is stilled,
When the star in the sky is gone,
When the kings and princes are home,
When the shepherds are back with their flock,
The work of Christmas begins:
To find the lost,
To heal the broken,
To feed the hungry,
To release the prisoner,
To rebuild the nations,
To bring peace among others,
To make music in the heart.
Howard Thurman
Having read that poem many times it is interesting that the version that keeps playing in my mind is a slightly altered version, though almost a direct quote in the song, “I am the light of the world,” by Jim Strathdee. Many of the poems that I have memorized over the years replay in my mind as hymns. Having a tune aids in memorization, a phenomenon that early religious leaders knew. Much of our Bible, including the Psalms and portions of the prophets, were preserved in oral tradition before being written. Those oral traditions often included tunes that were sung. It has been so long since those ancient texts were recorded in writing, however, that many of the tunes have been lost. Some, such as Psalm 23, have been re-set to tunes in more recent years and we know them in part because of those newer tunes.
There is an interesting story about Strathdee’s song that was told to me by Jim himself. We met at a writer’s conference years ago. He was traveling somewhere in Central of South America, I can’t remember the exact location. What I do remember from his story is that the folks he was visiting spoke Spanish and he was interested in learning their local customs and traditions. He inquired about favorite hymns and religious songs and they were eager to share with him what they considered to be a traditional local song about Jesus. When they started singing, Strathdee was amazed to hear his own hymn being sung in translation. The story was told to us as a tale of how certain things become embedded in culture and tradition. It doesn’t always take a long time, and it isn’t always ruled by US copyright law. Sometimes things are shared and songs are sung and they become part of people’s world without us ever knowing the precise way that it happened. Strathdee has been honest from the beginning that he was not the creator of Thurman’s words. He set them to a tune because he was moved by them. He makes no claim of ownership of those words. The discovery that people in another part of the world who speak a different language than he sing the song didn’t spark anger in him. Rather he was amazed and humbled at the power of music to reach beyond an individual and carry meaning beyond the audience of a performance.
The thing about Strathdee’s song and Thurman’s poem this Christmas season, however, is that in a sense it is appearing sooner than I think it should. From the perspective of the traditional days of celebration of Christmas and Epiphany, the kings are not yet home. If we tell the story in the manner of the celebrations of the church, the kings have not yet arrived at the manger. That day will be Saturday and the song should appear in our congregations this coming Sunday, though I suspect that those traditions are becoming blurred in most congregations and the timing doesn’t follow my sensibilities.
In Matthew’s telling of the story of Jesus’ birth, which comes into play at Epiphany, there is a lot of intrigue and plot twists that lie ahead. Herod, threatened by the arrival of wise ones from the east and fearful of a loss of power that might result from a Jewish insurrection on his watch, becomes absolutely paranoid and orders infanticide. Joseph, warned of the danger in a dream, takes the infant and his mother out of the country to Egypt for safe hiding and escapes the terror that is visited on the Jewish families in his homeland. In a strange plot twist for those who are familiar with Biblical texts, Egypt, which had been the land of slavery in the Exodus narrative, now becomes the land of salvation for Jesus, just as it had been the land of salvation for his ancestor Joseph when his brothers contemplated his murder. In a few short verses, Matthew places the child on a pilgrimage that recreates that of the history of his people, traveling to Egypt and later returning out of Egypt to the land occupied by Israel. For the author of Matthew’s Gospel, the child is firmly stationed in the traditions and culture of his Jewish faith.
The thing about singing the song early, however, is that it does begin to steel us for what seems to us to be a difficult year ahead. If we take seriously the call to be partners with God and with other people of faith, there is a lot to be done. There are many lost and lonely ones in our communities. There are broken souls, hungry children, unvisited prisoners, and entire nations crushed by oppression and war.
There will be many days when it will be hard to dance.
So we begin the year by sharing the poem and the song. We remind ourselves that we are not alone and that our call is not to save the world all by ourselves. Our call is to be a part of a much bigger picture, just as Strathdee understood that his song was one small part in a much bigger world of faith that reached beyond his home place and native language.
The last verse of Strathdee’s song will be ringing in my heart long after this week is concluded and the stories have once again been told over and over:
To bring hope to every task you do,
To dance at a baby’s new birth,
To make music in an old man’s heart,
And sing to the colors of the earth!
Thurman and Strathdee continue to make music in the heart of this old man.
