Advent 24 – 24 December 2021
Good morning,
on Christmas Eve. In many cultures, this is the day for the family’s Christmas meal, and for opening presents. This is the final day of traditional advent calendars – I well remember from childhood the excitement of opening the double window on the 24th. (Our calendar will conclude on Christmas Day.)
And so, with presents in mind, we find a poem by John Burnside, who is a Professor in our School of English, poet, novelist and writer of memoir. (We encountered his poetry earlier on 1 and 7 December.) Burnside was born in Dunfermline in Fife, but (as was memorably described in his memoir A Lie About my Father) grew up in Corby, Northamptonshire in England where a large Scottish community had settled.
Orange
The heaven of childhood had something to do with citrus:
back in the coal towns, deep in a season of rain,
or out on the farm roads, away from the dangerous world,
where children came down from their attics, with sleep in their mouths,
light on the kitchen walls on a Christmas morning
and, under the tree, in their scarlet and matt-black wrappers,
the newborn clementines that flaked and scaled
like moths’ or angels’ wings between our fingers,
then melted to pulp and a liquor that darkened our palms
with the colour and scent of Jesus, raised from the dead
and walking alone in the garden, untouched by the future,
the light of the world returned, as he raises his hand
to gather a fruit from the darkness and taste, once again,
the blood-orange sap, the sweet at the heart of the bitter.
I love this poem which somehow captures my experience of Christmas morning as a child. There was always a clementine or satsuma in my stocking. Yet the poem turns to explore the incarnation more fully in the later story of Jesus, “the light of the world”, his death and resurrection.
There is a sense that the birth and infancy narratives of Jesus are “sweet at the heart of the bitter.” The magi brought myrrh, a bitter perfume, for anointing a body after death. The family escaped the slaughter of innocent children. When Jesus was taken to the Temple when 40 days old, the old man Simeon foresaw a sword which would pierce Mary’s soul.
But there is sweetness too, of fruit, of the possibility of angels, and in Christmas itself, beautifully put as the “heaven of childhood.” I hope – no matter how old we are – we sense something of a child’s heaven over these days.
I think most children would love this image of the nativity, with its ox and ass, and chicken and fox in the border.
This is The Nativity of Christ from an illuminated manuscript Book of Hours produced in Rouen around 1470 (ms38938). It is held in the University Library within our Special Collections. As the Special Collections blogpost for 25 December 2018 says, “The Book of Hours was a prayer book for the laity that developed in late medieval Europe and that was used for private devotion. This one is illuminated with miniature paintings depicting Biblical scenes such as the Annunciation, Nativity, Adoration of the Magi, the Flight into Egypt and Crucifixion. Illuminated borders feature flowers and foliage and strange monsters which combine human and animal forms.” https://special-collections.wp.st-andrews.ac.uk/2018/12/25/december-25-book-of-hours/
St Salvator’s Chapel Choir won’t be singing in today’s services of Carols by Candlelight, scattered as they are for the holidays. But, even when scattered, they can sing together! Here are two beautiful videos of members of the choir over the course of the pandemic, directed by Claire Innes-Hopkins, recorded as individuals and then spliced together to form a harmonious whole. The first is of Benjamin Britten’s Hymn to the Virgin, sung with a quartet from The Sixteen. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l855ydH6EP8
And the second is And the Glory of the Lord by Handel, from Messiah, which is so often performed over Christmas and New Year: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N9aGdVznS7Y
And the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together:
for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it. (Isaiah 40:5)
If you can’t be at St Salvator’s Chapel today for any of our services of Carols by Candlelight at 2 pm, 4 pm or 6 pm, I hope our choir’s joyous music brings you comfort and joy.
Yours,
Donald.
Revd Dr Donald MacEwan
Chaplain