Comfort those who sit in darkness

Martin Luther is generally acknowledged to be a badass hymnist—he made congregational singing a key fixture in the Lutheran worship service, so it makes sense that some extra primo good Christmas music should come out of that tradition.

What you may not know is that one of the 19^th Century’s great translators of German Lutheran hymns was an Englishwoman named Catherine Winkworth. Daughter of a silk merchant, Winkworth was influenced by a couple of Unitarian ministers and brought a lot of power to expanding hymnody. Not even in her 20s, after spending a year in Dresden, she published a book called Lyra Germanica, which was a collection of German hymns she liked and had translated. Winkworth essentially opened up the world of Lutheran music to Anglophones, which enriched Advent for us all.

In addition to her interests in German and sacred music, Winkworth actively promoted women’s rights, particularly to education. But my first introduction to her intelligence was a delicious pun that was published in Punch when she was 16 years old. In 1844, Britain was expanding and solidifying its hold on India, and one of its imperial coups occurred when General Charles James Napier’s ruthless campaign to conquer the province of Sindh. In a droll play on two languages, Winkworth remarked to her teacher that Napier could have announced his victory with a single word, “peccavi”—Latin for “I have sinned.”

The pun has been credited to Napier himself, perhaps by persons who could not believe a female—much less a teenaged one—capable of such dexterity. But records back her as the author.

Today, we’ll have an Advent hymn translated by Winkworth. The text of “Comfort, Comfort Ye My People” is based on Isaiah 40: 1-5. The German was published in 1671, set to a tune called “Freu Dich Sehr”, a setting for Psalm 42 that dated about 100 years earlier. You can hear the Renaissance in this music—almost see glittering court dancers moving in and out in an intricate pattern, possibly alternating with wassail. And at the same time, it feels so contemporary, as though you could see speakers-in-tongues dancing in the church aisles. Yeah, a lot of dancing in this one.

So, it’s joyous and energetic—absolutely perfect for the third week in Advent, when we’re rounding the final turn to Christmas. I love this one so much, Imma give you a couple of tries at it.

First off, the Cantorei from Saint Olaf College, Northfield, Minn. Seems only appropriate, as Saint Olaf is a Lutheran liberal arts college, and every year they put on the blow-out of a Christmas Eve concert with about the entire student body in a lot of choirs.

And here’s the First Plymouth Church of Lincoln, Nebraska, letting loose on it at an Advent ceremony of lessons and carols. They got chops, too.