Good King Wenceslaus — again!

The shrine-chapel of St. Duke Vaclav (Wenceslaus) in St. Vitus' Cathedral (Prague).

The shrine-chapel of St. Duke Vaclav (Wenceslaus) in St. Vitus’ Cathedral (Prague).

Good King Wenceslas is a popular Christmas carol that tells a story of Good King Wenceslas braving harsh winter weather to give alms to a poor peasant on the Feast of Stephen (the second day of Christmas, December 26). During the journey, his page is about to give up the struggle against the cold weather, but is enabled to continue by following the king’s footprints, step for step, through the deep snow. The legend is based on the life of the historical Saint Wenceslaus I, Duke of Bohemia or Svatý Václav in Czech (907–935).

(I remember the first time I was in Prague and stood on the castle battlements looking out across the city during a light snowfall. The city seemed dusted with powder sugar and looked like a fairyland. It was magical. And then–I realized that I could more or less see the cloister of St. Agnes across the river, the famous “St. Agnes’ fountain” of the popular Christmas carol. I was standing more or less where the good king himself must have been standing when he asked his page about the identity of the poor man they saw struggling with his load of winter fuel! The cloister of St. Agnes now houses the National Museum’s breathtaking collection of medieval art. A day or so later, it was breathtaking to walk through the hallways and rooms of the thirteenth century cloister to view some of the most stunning medieval art I have ever seen — even better than the world-famous collection of the Metropolitan Museum of Art at the Cloisters! When you visit Prague, I cannot urge you too strongly to take the time to visit St. Agnes’ cloister along the bend of the river.)

Don’t recall the details of the story? Listen to it now.

In 1853, English hymnwriter John Mason Neale wrote the “Wenceslas” lyrics, in collaboration with his music editor Thomas Helmore, and the carol first appeared in Carols for Christmas-Tide, 1853. Neale’s lyrics were set to a tune based on a 13th-century spring carol “Tempus adest floridum” (“The time is near for flowering”) first published in the 1582 Finnish song collection Piae Cantiones.

Wenceslas was considered a martyr and a saint immediately after his death in the 10th century, when a cult of Wenceslas grew up in Bohemia and in England. Within a few decades of Wenceslas’s death, four biographies of him were in circulation. These hagiographies had a powerful influence on the High Middle Ages conceptualization of the rex justus, or “righteous king”—that is, a monarch whose power stems mainly from his great piety, as well as from his princely vigor.

Although Wenceslas was, during his lifetime, only a duke, Holy Roman Emperor Otto I posthumously “conferred on [Wenceslas] the regal dignity and title” and that is why, in the legend and song, he is referred to as a “king”. The usual English spelling of Duke Wenceslas’s name, Wenceslaus, is occasionally encountered in later textual variants of the carol, although it was not used by Neale in his version. (Wenceslas is not to be confused with King Wenceslaus I of Bohemia [Wenceslaus I Premyslid], who lived more than three centuries later).

[This post was very popular when I first published it in December 2013. This is a slightly revised version.]

“I want a… Goldfinch?!…for Christmas”

Madonna and Child, by Carlo Crivelli (1480); note the goldfinch in the Christ Child's grasp

Madonna and Child, by Carlo Crivelli (1480); note the goldfinch in the Christ Child’s grasp

Very often in traditional depictions of the Virgin and Christ Child, there is a goldfinch in the baby’s grasp. Why?

The most simple reason might be that in the 14th century it was common for young children to keep tame birds as pets. Christ’s holding a bird allows a parent or a child to recognize his human nature, to identify with him. Despite the angels and the celestial gold background, the viewer is reminded that God lived and died as a man upon the earth.

But when is traditional Christian art ever simple? Or easy?

The goldfinch appears in depictions of Christ’s birth or during his childhood because it was said that when Christ was carrying the cross to Calvary a small bird – sometimes a goldfinch, sometimes a robin – flew down and plucked one of the thorns from the crown around his head. Some of Christ’s blood splashed onto the bird as it drew the thorn out, and to this day goldfinches and robins have spots of red on their plumage. Since goldfinches are also known to eat and nest among thorns, the goldfinch is often read as a prefiguration of Christ’s Passion.

The bird could also be seen as a symbol of the Resurrection of Christ. A non-Biblical legend popular in the Middle Ages related how the child Jesus, when playing with some clay birds that his friends had given to him, bought them to life. Medieval theologians saw this as an allegory of his own coming back from the dead.

Medieval Europeans also saw the goldfinch as a protector against the plague. Since classical times superstition had credited a mythical bird – the charadrius – with the ability to take on the disease of any man who looked it in the eye. The charadrius was sometimes represented as a goldfinch. Perhaps Christ’s finch offers the worshiper protection against the seemingly unstoppable contagion.

Also, since Ancient Egypt, the human soul had been represented in religious art by a small bird. We see the “Ba” (the soul-bird) on a detail of an Egyptian coffins. A very general reading of the goldfinch might, therefore, remind the viewer that his soul is ‘in the hands’ of God.

Curious about that big cucumber hanging from the apple tree? Hmmm… Read a VERY interesting interpretation of it AND other details of this painting here.

Remember the classic “I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas“?

P.S. After I published this post I got the news that Shelf Media Group announced their selection of the 100 Notable Books of 2016 and Storm Wolf was one of them!

“Coming:” St. Martin’s Fast and Advent

Popular among Western Christians, the advent wreath has 3 purple/red candles and 1 pink that are lit during the 4 weeks before Christmas.

Popular among Western Christians, the advent wreath has 3 purple/red candles and 1 pink that are lit during the 4 weeks before Christmas.

During the 4 weeks before Christmas, most Western Christians (Roman Catholics and Protestants) drape their churches with purple and light candles in a wreath. Children open doors on “advent calendars” to count down the days. They are keeping Advent (the season of “Coming”). Purple is associated with penitential and ascetic exercises; it is also the color of royalty. What “coming” are they preparing for?

Originally, the weeks of Advent were mostly about Christ’s coming as Judge at the End of Days but they also came to be seen as time to prepare for the birth of Christ at Christmas.

In England, especially in the northern counties, there was a custom (now extinct) for poor women to carry around the “Advent images”, two dolls dressed to represent Jesus and the Blessed Virgin Mary. A halfpenny coin was expected from every one to whom these were exhibited and bad luck was thought to menace the household not visited by the doll-bearers before Christmas Eve at the latest.

In Normandy, farmers employed children under twelve to run through the fields and orchards armed with torches, setting fire to bundles of straw, and thus it was believed driving out such vermin as were likely to damage the crops.

In Italy, among other Advent celebrations is the entry into Rome in the last days of Advent of the Calabrian pifferari, or bagpipe players, who play before the shrines of Mary, the mother of Jesus: in Italian tradition, the shepherds played these pipes when they came to the manger at Bethlehem to pay homage to the infant Jesus.

How did all this get organized? In AD 490, Bishop Perpetuus of Tours officially declared Advent a penitential season in the Frankish Church of Western Europe, ordering a fast on three days of every week from November 11 (the feast of St. Martin of Tours) till Christmas. This forty days’ fast, similar to Lent, was originally called Quadragesima Sancti Martini (Forty Days’ Fast of Saint Martin’s) and was primarily about the Last Judgement and the End of Days. In much of Europe, St. Martin’s Day on November 11 is still the beginning of the pre-Christmas season; people eat big dinners of goose, which are very much like dinner on Christmas Day (just as dinner on American Thanksgiving is so very similar to Christmas dinner).

By contrast, the Advent season of the Roman liturgy, developing a century after that of the Frankish Church, was a non-penitential, festive and joyful time of preparation for Christmas. When the Western Church unified the liturgical season, the non-penitential nature of the Roman Advent conflicted with the longer and penitential Gallic Advent. (St. Francis of Assisi expected his followers to keep the St. Martin’s Fast.) By the thirteenth century a compromise was reached, which combined the fasting and penitential character of the Gallic observance with the Mass texts and shorter four-week cycle of the Roman Advent liturgy.

Until recently, it was still common practice for clergy to recall the association of Advent and the Second Coming by preaching about one of the “four last things” on each of the four Sundays of Advent: heaven, hell, death, and judgement.