Christianity came to Iceland around 1000 A.D., and in very little time, the converts were holier than the missionary–a hasty and troublesome man whom, I suspect, the Church wished to get rid of by sending him to Iceland. That’s the story told in Njal’s Saga.
Christmas doesn’t look or sound so different, up there on the northern edge of the world. Anyway, I thought you might enjoy a glimpse of it.
Be patient: the music doesn’t kick in until this video’s halfway over. There is nothing wrong with your computer. Anyhow, when you finally hear it, it’s worth waiting for.
Most of us already know All Through the Night, but I’ll bet hardly any of us ever heard it played on a theremin. That’s that weird instrument that makes eerie music for science fiction movies. You’ll know it when you hear it. Invented in 1928, the theremin is the original electronic musical instrument. You play it without touching anything. Please don’t ask me to explain how that works.
It’s the day after Christmas: but the Christ Child lives all year.
By reader request, here’s You Raise Me Up. Linda, I hope you like this version by Celtic Woman.
This is the oldest Christmas hymn known from Canada. It was composed by missionaries in 1643 for the Huron people. Their word for God was “Manitou,” but it means God–our God, Father of Jesus Christ. If the words and details seem strange, remember what the Bible says–of one blo0d made He all the nations of men (Acts 17:26).
I am still taking requests for carols to be posted here, and from now on I will take requests for hymns every day of the year. When it comes to loving and praising our heavenly Father, and His Son, Our Lord Jesus Christ, every day is the right day for that.
Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all ye lands.
Merry Christmas, everybody!
Pat-a-Pan is a Burgundian Christmas carol, first published in 1720. This performance is by the Harrisburg Baptist Church in the 2010 Northern Mississippi Christmas Festival, and they really go to town on it.
This carol was on the repertoire of the Franklin Junior High School Christmas program of 1962. I ought to know: our whole home room got drafted into the school choir, willy-nilly.
We are not able to travel to spend Christmas Day with my brother and sister. It’s dense fog this morning, with heavy rain forecast throughout the afternoon. The Garden State Parkway is daunting even in nice weather. In bad weather, the cars wind up scattered all over the place like Tinker Toys.
You didn’t think I’d let Christmas Eve pass without posting O, Come, All Ye Faithful, did you? No way.
This is that choir from Newcastle again: just beautiful. Open your heart, and Jesus will come in. Open up and see.
This is from my chess buddy and dear friend, “Jessicafischerqueen.”
A glimpse of the holy city of Jerusalem doesn’t come amiss on Christmas Eve. But how much greater, how much more glorious and beautiful, will be the new Jerusalem? God is not yet finished with His work of creation.
But I have just finished putting up my Christmas tree, and I wish I had the know-how to take a picture and post it here. Not to brag, just to share.
I was going to write about a bunch of collidge stodents saying they wanted radio stations to ban Bing Crosby’s classic seasonal carol, White Christmas, but I have changed my mind. When I’m king, I’ll shut down 90% of the colleges and make the students and professors work for a living. The remaining 10% will probably be pretty good.
Merry Christmas to all!
Here’s a 900-year-old hymn that’s still loved and sung today. This version is unusual in that it features an oboe solo. Very nice!
Well, now comes the enormous job of setting up our Christmas tree. This year we have a duck for Christmas dinner. And tomorrow, the always-exciting ride on the Garden State Parkway, aka Ben Hur’s Chariot Race, to see my sister and brother.
I’ll try to get back to you all again before the day is over; but if I can’t, then a Merry Christmas to all!
Wow! Newcastle-Upon-Tyne is in the north of England, and can they sing!
Do you know all the words to this carol? Listen! Read! We hear it so often, and usually with only half an ear. But this time hear it fresh, as if for the first time. It’s well worth it.
Tomorrow we put up our tree, a big job, and have our Christmas dinner. I don’t know how much I’ll be able to blog, but I’ll try my hardest to give you something.
Merry Christmas to all! And I don’t mean maybe.
I’d be very sorry to skip this one.
The story behind this 19th century carol is interesting. Wenceslas was a duke not a king, who lived in what is now the Czech Republic, but for long as called Bohemia, back in the early 900s. He accepted martyrdom for his faith and was recognized as a saint soon afterward. He was also promoted to a king, posthumously. And yes, he really was famous for braving a fierce winter storm to personally deliver much-needed alms and provisions to a poor man who needed them.
Today our leaders know better. When they wish to perform acts of charity, they seize one man’s property and give it to another, never, never parting with anything of their own. Take the page’s stuff and make another page deliver it to the poor man–minus, of course, the big chunk of it that sticks to your own fingers.
Fie on them all. Long live the memory of Wenceslas. May his example uproot and replace what we have now.