December 25, 2022 (Christmas (Midnight))
/“To Call My True Love to My Dance”
by Fr. Dominic DeLay, O.P.
[This is the text composed by the homilist prior to delivering the homily.]
Tomorrow shall be my dancing day;
I would my true love did so chance
To see the legend of my play,
To call my true love to my dance;
Sing, oh! My love, oh! My love, my love, my love,
This have I done for my true love.
That’s the beginning of my favorite Christmas carol, one I suspect most of you don’t know. I was introduced to “Tomorrow Shall Be My Dancing Day” in my high school choir with that popular musical setting by John Gardner. It’s easy to find on YouTube. Many composers, including Stravinsky, have been charmed by the traditional lyrics of this carol and created their own settings or arrangements, but there are two other especially popular modern versions, arrangements by David Willcocks and John Rutter, of a melody that goes back at least 200 years. They’re also easy to find on YouTube. Here’s the next verse, using that traditional melody:
Then was I born of a virgin pure,
Of her I took fleshly substance.
Thus was I knit to your nature,
To call my true love to my dance.
Sing, oh! My love, oh! My love, my love, my love,
This have I done for my true love.
If you felt like dancing during either one of those versions, it’s because this carol is in the tradition of the most ancient carols, songs to accompany circle dances. Christmas carols often accompanied the people’s dances around the crèche, the nativity scene. Gardner’s, Willcocks’, and Rutter’s versions of this carol sweep us up into the dance, with one line of music leading into the next and the next. Gardner leads us on with breathless crescendos, and Willcocks keeps us spinning with overlapping voices.
It’s all very folksy, the image of people dancing around the crèche. I find it so inviting and compelling, so expressive of Christmas joy and cheer. The words of this carol are folksy too, perhaps because they, like the melody, go back at least 200 years. But scholars think the words might go back as far as the middle ages, where the English would have been even more folksy. This carol may very well have been part of one of the medieval mystery plays about Christ. That would explain those somewhat obscure lyrics in the first verse about Jesus wanting us to see the legend of his play.
This folksy carol is also earthy, isn’t it? The third verse, which sets the scene of the crèche, is especially earthy, humorous too:
In a manger laid, and wrapped I was.
So very poor, this was my chance,
Betwixt an ox and a silly poor ass,
To call my true love to my dance.
This have I done for my true love.
Folksy, earthy, sacramental: “Of her I took fleshly substance / Thus was I knit to your nature.”
You might have noticed that this carol is told from Jesus’ point of view, which is quite rare: Tomorrow – the day of my birth – shall be my dancing day…Then was I born of a virgin pure…In a manger laid, and wrapped I was…To call my true love to my dance.
My true love. In this carol, Jesus calls you his true love and calls you to his dance of life and love. That’s why we’re awake and gathered together in the middle of a cold night, isn’t it? – to witness the mystery of God becoming human, one of us, one with us, dwelling in our hearts in love – to witness the mystery and its dance around the crèche. All of us in our diversity, yet sharing the same now divinized flesh, join hands and dance around the crèche of Christ together, Jesus singing to us: “Oh! My love, oh! My love, my love, my love / This have I done for my true love.” Willcocks’ version has a lovely bit where some voices are simply singing “oh my, oh my.”
Gardner’s arrangement contains a fourth verse that doesn’t seem Christmasy at all, and we realize the Jesus wooing us is now the adult Jesus:
Then afterwards baptized I was;
The Holy Ghost on me did glance.
My Father’s voice heard I from above,
To call my true love to my dance.
This have I done for my true love.
But it’s fitting to end this Christmas carol with Jesus’ baptism, isn’t it? Did you remember that the Christmas season ends, not with the coming of the magi, but with Jesus’ baptism? I’ll leave you to ponder why. I’ll just point out that this year the feast of Jesus’ baptism, the last day of Christmas, is on Monday, January 9. Plenty of time to sing and dance this carol and others that you’re not tired of.
If looking ahead to Jesus’ baptism doesn’t feel to us like the most Christmasy thing, we feel more at home with the way today’s gospel story roots itself in the past, making sure we understand that Jesus is a descendant of David and born in his town, as the prophets foretold. Our first reading tonight is from the prophet Isaiah, reminding us that Jesus is the fulfillment ancient prophecies. God is with us, and God has always been with us, calling us to the dance.
Christmas is a fulfillment of ancient longings and promises, yes, but it’s also the prologue to the whole Christ story. The traditional lyrics of “Tomorrow Shall Be My Dancing Day” have seven more verses, with Jesus wooing us by the recounting of his whole life’s dance for us: his time in the desert, the dark plotting against him, his betrayal by Judas, his encounter with Pilate. Gustav Holst set all the verses to music, including this one:
Then on the cross hanged I was,
Where a spear my heart did glance;
There issued forth both water and blood,
To call my true love to my dance.
Sing, oh! My love, oh! My love, my love, my love,
This have I done for my true love.
We can imagine how “My Dancing Day” might have been part of a three-day medieval mystery play telling the whole story of Jesus and our salvation in him. Tonight we dance together around the Word made flesh. One of the many great things about circle dances is that, since everyone is joined together, those who don’t know the steps or make a mistake are carried along by the group. The circle keeps going. And so tonight we dance together around the story of the scriptures and around the altar of the last supper.
Tonight’s scriptures do also point us to the future. The angel of the gospel bolsters the shepherds’ and our spirits: Do not be afraid; for behold, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Isaiah prophesies about a future not yet fully realized: His dominion is vast and forever peaceful. And tonight’s passage from Paul’s letter to Timothy points us to our end: …we await the blessed hope, the appearance of the glory of our great God and savior Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to deliver us… And so tonight we dance together around the assurances of the scriptures and around the altar of our sustenance.
I might have implied that My Dancing Day ends with Jesus’ death, but there is one last verse, with Jesus drawing us into the heavenly dance:
Then up to heaven I did ascend,
Where now I dwell in sure substance
On the right hand of God, that you
May come unto the general dance.
This have I done for my true love.
I take the general dance to be a reference to the general resurrection, when we will all be raised bodily to the eternal dance of heaven. But commentators also see a reference to the general dance at the end of a medieval mystery play, when onlookers became participants in the dance. It can also mean the general dance of everyday life. The dance may be perfected in the future, but we limp along with joy even now, tasting heaven along the way. And so tonight we dance together around the promise of the scriptures and around the altar of the heavenly feast.
This is the dance we’re invited to celebrate each moment. We don’t have to wait for tomorrow for Christ’s and our dancing day. Our dancing day is tonight and tomorrow and each day of Christmas. And every tomorrow, each day of our lives. God willing, we’ll circle around to the Christmas dance again next year and the next, our story, our dance, knit closer and closer to Christ’s. This is what Christ has done for us, his true love.
Thus was I knit to your nature,
To call my true love to my dance.
Sing, oh! My love, oh! My love, my love, my love,
This have I done for my true love.
