Good Christian Friends Rejoice
Good Christian Friends, Rejoice
1 Good Christian friends, rejoice
with heart and soul and voice;
give ye heed to what we say:
Jesus Christ is born today;
ox and ass before him bow,
and he is in the manger now.
Christ is born today!
Christ is born today!
2 Good Christian friends, rejoice
with heart and soul and voice;
now ye hear of endless bliss:
Jesus Christ was born for this!
He has opened heaven's door,
and we are blest forevermore.
Christ was born for this!
Christ was born for this!
3 Good Christian friends, rejoice
with heart and soul and voice;
now ye need not fear the grave;
Jesus Christ was born to save!
Calls you one and calls you all
to gain the everlasting hall.
Christ was born to save!
Christ was born to save!
Text: Medieval Latin carol; tr. John Mason Neale, 1818-1866
As I reflected on the lyrics of my assigned hymn I realized something was amiss, so I did what any researcher would do, and dug deeper.[1] The versions of “Good Christian Friends Rejoice” I listened to on Spotify were overwhelmingly morose-sounding for a hymn with the word rejoice in the title. Beautiful certainly, but so many had an air of dirge-ness about them even as folks sang about “endless bliss” and forever blessings.[2] Hymns like “In the Bleak Midwinter” appropriately often sound a bit more somber. One of these two hymns had dozens more versions by well-known singers than the other (hint, it is not the one with rejoice in the title).
As the hymn says, “rejoice with heart and soul and voice,” we need a variety of hymns to reflect the different emotions of the holiday. Celebrating the birth of a long-awaited child brings elation (and a huge rush of endorphins). Some Christmas hymns are soft and quiet and evoke the sense of wonder felt when holding a sleeping newborn, when you can feel your love for the child grow even in your bones, and it feels (as the hymn says) like your heart and soul are rejoicing. That is how I imagine Mary felt when she treasured what the shepherds had told her and held it in her heart.
But the angels and shepherds didn’t keep their rejoicing in their hearts for long, for we know the angels had a big celebration and praised God with their voices, and likewise the shepherds started praising God on their return to the fields (Luke 2:8-20). I imagine the moment they left the presence of the newborn king (as any proud new grandparent or auntie can attest) they wanted to shout and sing and dance. They were too excited to celebrate the birth of the one who had been promised for so long in a soft and gentle way.
The lyrics also say to “give ye heed to what we say,” which in most somber versions comes across as a gentle request. But when was the last time you heard someone say “listen up” in a quiet way? The discordance between the lyrics and music in solemn versions of “Good Christian Friends Rejoice” feels like the church lost the plot somewhere over the generations.[3]
The words rejoice, and joy come from the same root word in Old French (joie) that filtered through to English differently. If rejoice essentially speaks of joy, why is “Joy to the World” sung with exuberance while “Good Christian Friends Rejoice” is often not?
It certainly can’t be attributed to the author J.M. Neale, who famously wrote “Good King Wenceslas” for St. Stephens Day (Boxing Day), a song that I doubt anyone can sing without wanting to move with joy. “Good Christian Friends Rejoice” was translated by Neale from Latin to English, as was his translation of “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” which is still the most popular translation of it in use today.[4]
The words are a loose translation of the Latin and German hymn “In dulci jubilo” set to an old folk song that most people of the time (late 14th century to mid-16th century) would have known well. A familiar tune made it easier to learn the words and the message behind them for the majority functionally illiterate congregation, and in fact, many hymns we sing today have similar folk melody origins.[5]
One more Spotify search for versions of “In dulci jubilo” finally resulted in a truly jubilant tune. After two lovely, if a bit haunting, versions by the Choir of King’s College, the next result was an instrumental version by Mike Oldfield, most famous for “Tubular Bells”.[6]
As soon as I heard the flute, I felt the blossoming of joy. By the time the electric guitar came in, I felt like dancing. This, at last, was the music that matched the rejoicing proclaimed in “Good Christian Friends Rejoice”.[7] It feels like the celebration of Christ’s birth, and the promise fulfilled of eternal blessings and everlasting life, and the need to share the news with the world.
It may seem silly to have gone so far down the rabbit hole for this simple hymn. We have so many beautiful songs to sing during Advent and Christmas, and so much rejoicing to feel deep in our souls and hearts. And while we sing many of these hymns with an appropriate level of reverence, we sometimes neglect to express our excitement about the seasons with our voices.[8] I urge you to listen to a cheery version and sing the words of “Good Christian Friends Rejoice,” using your heart, soul, and voice.[9]
Lord, thank you for the gift of life and true joy in the form of your son. Help us remember to be like the shepherds, full of awe and celebration. Send us reminders throughout the year ahead to rejoice with heart, soul, and voice, wherever we are. Let our exuberance and spread the news of eternal life and endless bliss.
[1] And just like any good researcher, I added footnotes.
[2] A few versions I enjoyed but didn't quite hit the mark: Olaf Choral Ensemble, Matt Steinfeld, Ron Wines, Runa. There are a few jubilant instrumental versions if you make it farther down the search results.
[3] I do not place any blame on accompanists for this disconnect. I think we tend to keep singing and playing songs the way we heard them growing up, without too much reflection.
[4] Granted, “O Come O Come Emmanuel” is an advent hymn about what is coming, and not a celebration of Christ’s birth alone, so when it starts slower and softer and builds to a resounding chorus of rejoicing, we can sense the anticipation of the coming of Christ.
[5] Folk songs today still inspire and unite us; think of how many people around the world, having never set foot in a church, know “Amazing Grace.” Or even my surprise when “Take Me Home, Country Roads” came on the speaker in a pub in England, and every single person in there knew all the words (though I doubt any of them could have found it on a map). And as a benefit, we all know that jaunty tunes are bound to get stuck in our heads.
[6] My mother had just mentioned listening to “Tubular Bells,” by Mike Oldfield, so his name was at fresh in my mind, or I would likely have skipped his version. I would have been missing out on a fantastic song.
[7] The other versions of “In dulci jubilo” were still solemn.
[8] Most secular Christmas music is quite jolly, but it usually misses the glorious rejoicing part.
[9] References: Hymnary.org, Wikipedia, etymonline.com, Spotify, and my mother.