The Twelve Days of Christmas Carols: Good King Wenceslaus

Although it may not seem like a Christmas carol (it mentions neither Christ nor Christmas), the song Good King Wenceslaus has traditionally been played during the Christmas season because it mentions a good deed done in the heart of winter on the Feast of St. Stephen the Protomartyr, which we celebrate today, the day following Christmas.

St. Wenceslaus was the Duke of Bohemia raised in the Christian faith by his grandmother, St. Ludmila, and murdered at the command of his pagan brother and usurper, Boleslav. The carol sung in his honor strikes me as particularly relevant for a reason beyond the timing of its setting. We have in this legend of St. Wenceslaus a wealthy ruler going out of his way, stepping into the freezing cold of a poor world, bringing with him his wealth to share with those in need.

The Son of God has done the same thing for us, stepping this Christmas into the cold darkness of our lives, the bitter cold (or cold bitterness) of sin, as we go grubbing around seeking out some purpose to keep us going (our own gathering of winter fuel). He brings to us His wealth, His grace, and all we need to go about the work for which we were created.

In another regard, we stand in the place of the servant, given the task of carrying out the gifts He brings to us through all the world and to others in all places. Though we often grow faint at the cold and the wind that blows hard against our moving forward, our Good King goes before us, warming the ground and guiding our steps.

Good King Wenceslaus looked out on the Feast of Stephen,
When the snow lay round about, deep and crisp and even.
Brightly shone the moon that night, though the frost was cruel,
When a poor man came in sight, gathering winter fuel.

“Hither, page, and stand by me, if you know it, telling,
Yonder peasant, who is he? Where and what his dwelling?”
“Sire, he lives a good league hence, underneath the mountain,
Right against the forest fence, by Saint Agnes’ fountain.”

“Bring me food and bring me wine, bring me pine logs hither,
You and I will see him dine, when we bear them thither.”
Page and monarch, forth they went, forth they went together,
Through the cold wind’s wild lament and the bitter weather.

“Sire, the night is darker now, and the wind blows stronger,
Fails my heart, I know not how; I can go no longer.”
“Mark my footsteps, my good page, tread now in them boldly,
You shall find the winter’s rage freeze your blood less coldly.”

In his master’s steps he trod, where the snow lay dinted;
Heat was in the very sod which the saint had printed.
Therefore, Christian men, be sure, wealth or rank possessing,
You who now will bless the poor shall yourselves find blessing.

His Servant and Yours,
Micah, St. Wenceslaus School Class of '99