It Came Upon A Midnight Clear
“It Came Upon a Midnight Clear” is one of those Christmas carols that doubles as a popular church hymn at Christmastime. Like many church hymns, I know the tune pretty well, and I'm good for about one verse before I have to consult my hymnal (or Google) for the rest of the lyrics. In fact, it was upon Googling the song's lyrics that I found the interesting backstory about this track. The song was originally written in 1849 as a poem by Edmund Sears, a pastor of a Unitarian Church in Massachusetts. The following year, the verses of the poem were set to "Carol," a tune by American composer Richard Storrs Willis (Fun Fact: in England/Commonwealth countries, the lyrics are set to a different tune entirely, which, upon listening, kind of broke my brain!). Others have pointed out that the lyrics to the song are considered remarkable for a few reasons. First, the song doesn't really mention Christmas or Jesus explicitly. It references the events of Luke 2:14, i.e., the announcement of Christ's birth to the shepherds, which according to Linus van Pelt, is what Christmas is all about. But the song is much more focused on the angels' message of peace than on the announcement of a savior, which is easy to lose sight of in the context of celebrating Christmas.
Written at a time of personal hardship and in the wake of the Mexican-American war, Sears' lyrics portray a world that’s weary, full of "sin and strife," and unable to hear the angels' message. In the original third verse, Sears explicitly refers to his own time, imploring people to heed the angels' announcements for peace, "Yet with the woes of sin and strife / The world has suffered long / Beneath the angel-strain have rolled / Two thousand years of wrong / And man, at war with man, hears not / The love-song which they bring / O hush the noise, ye men of strife / And hear the angels sing." This original third verse is commonly omitted from the song. Maybe because it is not set in the Biblical past, maybe because it's too dark for a Christmas carol, or maybe it's just because four verses are sufficient! Who knows! What I do know is that Sears wrote a timeless Christmas song. Like many timeless Christmas songs, it's bittersweet. It's a song for a weary world and for people who, like Sears, were suffering. He saw the angels' message of peace and goodwill towards others as the answer to that suffering.
Looking back on Sufjan Stevens' Christmas catalog, it seems like he shares Sears' sentiments. His Christmas albums, which he released almost every year for over a decade, use the occasion of Christmas and the familiar "language" of Christmas music to explore the existential. Like Sears’ song, Stevens' Christmas opus as a whole implores us to consider the true meaning of this time, often emphasizing the peace and goodwill we should share with others. But also like Sears, Stevens' Christmas albums depict the weariness and strife that often make it hard for us to do that.
In this version of "It Came Upon a Midnight Clear" (there are two versions, with the other one appearing a few years/albums later), Stevens sets a song from 1849 to futuristic synthesizer beats. Like Sears, he uses the song to connect the past and present — in more ways than one. The song is an instrumental and abbreviated version, which, in the context of the album, situates it as more of an interlude connecting a Sufjan original (“Christmas in the Room”) to another song from the 1850s (“Good King Wenceslas”). I suspect this synthy, dancey version of "It Came Upon a Midnight Clear" is meant to rile us a little. Like seeing a teacher outside of school — we aren't used to hearing the song this way. The discordant combination of synth and hymn demands our attention. Given the song's origin story, it seems appropriate for us to be caught off guard by a song from the past reimagined in the present; it is a song about angels appearing suddenly, after all. Regardless of when it’s set, the meaning stays the same: peace on earth, goodwill toward all. There are some Christmas messages that are timeless.
Frances Sutton is a cultural anthropologist who lives with her husband and two extremely adorable dogs in Columbus, Ohio. She is also the editor of an online music zine, The Power of the Playlist, which you can read about: here. If you’re looking for something to look forward to in 2022, consider participating in the zine’s annual “Blind Date with a Mix” Valentine event, which you can read about: here!