Oh,
Holy Night!
“Truly
He taught us to Love one another,
His
law is love and his gospel is peace.
Chains
shall he break, for the slave is our brother,
And
in his name all oppression shall cease.”
Placide
Cappeau, Adolphe Adam, John Sullivan Dwight, “Oh Holy Night”
“Oh Holy
Night” was released in 1847, drawn from a poem by Placide Cappeau. This part of
the 3rd verse is often not included in English translations because
at the time of its release, we were still importing slaves from Africa, and
didn’t want to be reminded how un-Christian that was. This verse was considered
“controversial” then, and apparently, it still is in America.
“Oh Holy Night” has
always been one of my favorite hymns—probably because it’s in C-Major, so I can
sing it, and it captures the whole Nativity story in one song. A human baby’s
birth, heralded by angels on a starry night, long ago. It even mentions the way
the shepherds fell on their knees, and suggests we do the same. When is the
last time you fell on your knees? I can’t remember when I did.
Not that I don’t pray, I
do. I just do it on the run, like I do everything else. If you were to hang out
with me for a few days, you’d hear me speaking to “Lord God” all the time. “Lord
God, why is everything so hard! Can’t you just help me out here.” It’s an
old-lady prayer, I know. Things just get harder to do when you’re old. And, of
course, I’m paying the karmic debt for shaming my mother for being such a wuss
when she couldn’t open a jar or a bag of chips. Now I can’t and I blame it on
the Lord God. I hope he has a sense of humor.
When I’m really serious about
a prayer, I implore Liza to ask the “dog-God” for favors—to let me sleep
through the night, to give me a break from this awful cough I’m still having
from whatever non-covid demon of a virus hacked into my lungs. I figure since
Lord God doesn’t listen to my prayers very often, Liza is a better bet to get a
message through. She manages to stay off the “naughty” list for the most part.
Next time I sing Oh Holy
Night, I’m going to insert this verse. Until we have the courage to face our
past, our present and our future will forever be shadowed by it. And besides,
that little baby born so long ago in Bethlehem may like us better if we tell
the truth—that was one of his top ten, wasn’t it? “Thou shall not bear false
witness against your neighbor.” Or against your brother—the slave. The Lord God
is not in the mood to wipe that slate clean without a whole lot of karmic debt being
paid. So, pony up, Sister.
In the Spirit,
Jane
No comments:
Post a Comment