No Crib for His Bed

How are you sleeping? I hope you had a good night’s rest and pleasant dreams. I am told sleep is very important: good for the body, mind, and soul. I guess most people in our culture do not get enough sleep. (I should note, right before bedtime, have watched that drama of the Wyoming sheriff solving his cases.)  Maybe we should heed the advice to put away devices earlier in the evening, and leave our eyes to look at things other than a monitor in the hours before shutting them. Maybe we should set aside jarring topics that are better engaged at other times of our waking hours.

One of the simplest of our Christmas hymns has the sound and feel of a lullaby. Even the tune, called, Cradle Song, fits the song for soothing and putting a baby to sleep. The tune the Brits use is the work of William James Kirkpatrick (1838-1921) The text must be old, for it is not attributed to an author or a date; it carries the designation, “Traditional Carol.” It is so beautiful and tender we might miss the poignant implications of this soft carol. I don’t think you will have any trouble remembering where to find it in our current hymnal; Think of a beginning course in college. It is from Hymn 101. I hope you don’t mind if I begin with the end, and address initially verse three.

Be near me, Lord Jesus; I ask thee to stay
close by me for ever, and love me I pray.
Bless all the dear children in thy tender care,
and fit us for heaven to live with thee there.

I love how this verse is a prayer, the singer prays for herself, or himself, and prays for all the dear children of God. That would be all of us regardless of age. It is a prayer for as close as can be to the divine presence, for love, blessing, and formation. I have emphasized often the wonder that God would come to us and bless us. That God would come to our door and enter into our reality and existence. The Author of all being, who provides existence to all that exists, comes to reside in a special way with the one praying. Let’s list the petitions in a less prosaic way: be near me; stay close; love me; bless all with care; fit us for heaven that we can, beyond time, live there. So perfect! For we do want God close always, we do want love and blessing for ourselves and all. At our best, we want to be fashioned for heaven, even if we have a long way to go. The middle of the three verses is profound as well.

The cattle are lowing, the baby awakes,
but little Lord Jesus no crying he makes.
I love thee, Lord Jesus! Look down from the sky,
and stay by my side until morning is nigh.

Description and prayer: The first stanza is a scene-description and the last stanza a prayer. This middle stanza contains a couplet for each. The first two lines, mentioning the beasts and the baby’s calm is beautiful. It continues thoughts left from the verse before it, that the birthplace for the Christ child is astoundingly humble. O the mismatch: of a stable as a nursery for the anointed Savior of the human race.

Besides the impossible juxtaposition, there is a message this savior and co-creator is at one, at peace with all nature. It reminds me of the renaissance interpretation of the scene by Sandro Botticelli. In a wonderful 16th century painting, all around are angels hugging peasants and shepherds; angels overhead are circling like a life-sized ängelspel, the shades of their vesture alternating in colors of Neapolitan ice-cream. Such are the bordering figures, lost in jubilance. The happiness is due to what is at the center. An exhausted Joseph is near an alert, standing, adoring Mary. The baby is reaching and looking up at his mother. What captivates me are the ones in the center, really tuned in: the mother and child of course, but also the ox and ass. Mother, child, and beasts are at the very center of this astonishing blending of heaven and earth. As our cherished “Joy to the World” puts it, “and heaven and nature sing.”

That is the descriptive couplet in the middle verse. The beasts in the stall are no inconvenience for the Author of all nature. The second couplet of the verse, the prayerful one, is adoration and request, expressing, “I love you, and look down and stay by me through the night.” We want to confess our love of God; it’s a good prayer. We also ask for a blessed proximity. We want God’s protective company through the night, whatever “night” takes hold of us through life.

As I said, the first verse, the very familiar one is a description of the scene:

Away in a manger, no crib for his bed,
the little Lord Jesus laid down his sweet head.
The stars in the bright sky looked own where he lay,
the little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay.

Though this new baby is Lord, indeed the Ruler of the universe, in this human birth there are no privileges we associate with a blessing. He is away, not in city centers. He is in a stable not in the plush bedroom of an estate. He is atop the hay in an animal feed-stand, not in a crib with soft bedding. However rude and rustic the birthing center, the heavens seem to know the significance and magnificence of the child. The stars, brilliantly illuminating the sky, themselves are gazing down to get a good look at the precious “Sun of Righteous, the heaven-born Prince of Peace” (using the language of Hark the herald angels sing.) We humans look up at the stars, but all creatures even the stars look adoringly upon the very Source of life and love.

It is okay. It is understandable if we let this beautiful carol merely lilt us into the sentiment of innocence, and even lull us to sleep. It is perfect for that and it charms us. But tucked into its folds, soft as a baby blanket, are elements of faith and teaching, bright enough, bracing enough, to waken our souls and lift us to adore Him with all that is within us.