The First Noel

I’m supposed to be writing something a tiny bit more serious, and not for here, so I only have a short, rushed minute to complain about another wretched Christmas Carol. And don’t worry, it’s not always going to be the bad ones. Tomorrow I will probably grow lyrical about some that I love.

But today, the First Noel. Ugh. Here is the first line.
The first noel the angels did say
When I first was trying homeschool, I picked a bad phonics book, because I didn’t know anything, a phonics book that thought of itself too highly. It wouldn’t properly articulate the past tense, for reasons beyond my understanding. It was full of this wretched turn of phrase, ‘the fat man did run to get the fat rat’. The poor child would labor through all the words and then still have to listen to me lecture about the hideousness of the choice of ‘did run’. ‘Did Say’ is just as bad, so so so awkward. As soon as those two words were scrawled on the paper, the poet, and again, I have no idea who wrote this or why, should have crumpled the effort and looked for something that rhymed with ‘sang’ or ‘spoke’ or something.
We carry on.
Was to certain poor shepherds
Waaaaa. The Angels did say was to certain poor shepherds? Really? That doesn’t mean anything. I’m not the biggest grammar expert, as many of you have noticed, but OMW, this is wretchedness itself.
In fields as they lay
Again, not brilliant. Not a stunning use of the English language. The whole put together doesn’t really illuminate anything gorgeous about the birth of our Lord.
In fields fields where they lay keeping their sheep
Now the essential repetition, with a little bit added. That can be an interesting device but it’s not one here. It just serves to remind the poor singer that the first time you had to say ‘in fields as they lay’ was enough and it shouldn’t have had to be said again.
On a cold winter’s night that was so deep
No. No no no. What is a night that was so deep? Is it the deep of night? Because already that would be more interesting. That was so deep is, again, clunky and, well, depressing. I feel very sad now.
Noel, noel, noel, noel
Yes yes. This is a nice word. We can sing it over and over.
Born is the king of Israel
‘Born is the king’, honestly. Why do we put up with this? Why don’t we demand more interesting carols? Why can’t this most perfect moment in human history have something lovelier than ‘born is the king’?
Ok, next verse. Let’s see if it becomes any more elegant.
And to the earth it gave great light
Who is the what!? What is the what!? What gave great light? Is it the king? Then it would be ‘he’ not ‘it’.
And so it continued both day and night
What continued? The light? See, we haven’t had any mention of light, heretofore. The Angels did say, to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay, there wasn’t anything about light. Shouldn’t we have some indication of what you are speaking? We know Jesus is the light from seeing it elsewhere, but you are assuming, whoever you are, our prior knowledge. Assuming things, even in poetry or whatever this is, even on Christmas, is a dangerous game.
Noel, noel, noel, noel
Born is the king of Israel
Noel, noel, noel, noel
Born is the king of Israel
Well, that’s that. I know I’ll be hearing this on Christmas Eve and when you come to church and see me looking pleasant, perhaps even singing along, you have every right to call me out as a knave, a fool, a hypocrite, anything you like, but just know and understand that as I smile and sing, I will be inwardly asking these same questions over and over and over. I will be, in the dark, broken recesses of my own soul be crying out, ‘Waaaaaaaa’.