And for completeness, here's the second London Times piece, an occasional
article by the paper's classical music correspondent.

God save our merry, gentlemen
Richard Morrison

As the notion of Christmas itself as a Christian festival is all but
expunged, I do grieve for our ever-receding heritage of carols

CAROL-SINGING is a defining apartheid of 21st-century Britain. If you know
the words, or even the tunes, of such rollicking British lung-busters as O
Come, All Ye Faithful (which, to be unseasonably pernickety, is probably
French in origin) or God Rest You Merry, Gentlemen, with its
exquisitely-placed comma, it�s likely that you are on the wrong side of
40, that you sing in a church choir, or that you went to a private school
or �old-fashioned� grammar. For 20 years or more, traditional carols have
largely been shunned in state schools, certainly in �multi-faith� cities
such as London and Birmingham.

But then, the notion of Christmas itself as a Christian festival is all
but expunged from the deeds and discourse of the people who run our
schools, media and government. Tessa Jowell, who purports to be the
nation�s Culture Secretary (presumably as long as �culture� doesn�t
include any remnant of the Judaeo-Christian tradition that is the
cornerstone of Western civilisation) has rightly taken a bashing for
sending out a Christmas card that doesn�t mention Christmas. �Season�s
Greetings� is its anodyne message, illustrated with Indian dancers, a TV
set, a train, what appears to be a mosque, and the curious word �goal�.

Jowell, however, is characteristically only following a general drift
towards a gormless, grey, mushy, value-free blandness of thought in all
intellectual areas under Government control. This year the words �Merry
Christmas� were also banned in cards sent by the Scottish Parliament,
because the greeting is not deemed �socially inclusive�. And
Buckinghamshire County Council�s thought-police stopped a church from
advertising its carol service in local libraries for the same reason.

Such nonsense is rife. In Hendon we have received a December newsletter
from our local council studiously avoiding references to Christmas, but
sporting a festive cover inviting us to rejoice that Diwali is celebrated
in such style in the borough. I do rejoice, but I can�t help thinking that
Diwali was last month�s big religious festival.

Still, I guess that if Christianity can get through 2,000 years of
persecution, schisms and wars � much of it self-inflicted � it might just
survive being slighted by the likes of Buckinghamshire County Council. But
I do grieve for our ever-receding heritage of traditional carols. Many
date from pre-Renaissance times (the pernicious notion that they were all
written by the Victorians is more anti-Christmas propaganda). And as such
they constitute the last body of ancient folksong still in fairly
widespread use in modern Britain.

Sometimes their melodies are as mysterious in origin as they are memorable
in performance. God Rest You Merry, Gentlemen, in fact, is a classic case.
In medieval Europe, from Bulgaria to Cornwall, the tune linked with those
words could have been heard in dozens of different variants. Nobody knows
who thought of it first.

The shrouded origins of the texts are even more fascinating. Whole
families of ancient carols draw on a subtle (and cheerfully unclerical)
mingling of Christian and pagan imagery � most obviously the �holly and
ivy� carols, which relate to Celtic fertility symbols. Indeed, so complex
is the beautiful imagery of The Cherry Tree Carol � another anonymous gem
cropping up in dozens of versions � that the editors of the estimable New
Oxford Book of Carols are moved to draw our attention to what they call
its �Jungian shadow�.

Don�t get me wrong. When it comes to carols, I don�t want to make a fetish
of antiquity. I have never forgotten how, when I was a student at one of
our more pompous universities, those who attended the college carol
service were forced to sing all seven verses of O Come, All Ye Faithful in
Latin � in a snobbish attempt to prove, I suppose, that we were
intellectually a cut above the average Songs of Praise congregation. Not
only perverse but disastrous! You try getting your brain round �Adeste,
fideles, laeti, triumphantes� by candlelight after drinking half a bottle
of port.

But if we eliminate all culture from our schools and public life that
isn�t instantly understandable, instantly �inclusive� and just as
instantly disposable � the lowest common denominator, in other words � we
will lose both our roots and our capacity for imaginative thought. As a
child I pondered for hours how the �three ships� of the carol I saw three
ships could �sail into Bethlehem�, when Bethlehem is on top of a hill with
not a river in sight. I don�t think such richly metaphorical carols
carried me a inch closer to God (whoever she is).
But they did give me a taste of mankind�s genius for using words and music
to transport the mind and soul into worlds far beyond the humdrum daily
grind.

Perhaps that�s why bureaucrats want to suppress the Christian symbolism of
Christmas. It suggests there are powers in heaven and hell even greater
than those regulating the noticeboards of Buckinghamshire libraries. And
that will never do.

Allen

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