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I have always been interested in the work of archeologists and historical researchers into the life of Jesus.  Over two millennia, numerous things have been lost and distorted. Traditions and our own 21^st century point of view have distorted what we perceive life was like in 1^st century Palestine.  For example, there wasn’t any middle class back then.  One was either part of the ruling elite or a peasant; and a very poor peasant at that.  If Joseph and Mary were traveling to Bethlehem to register in the census, it was most likely that Joseph had family there.  Bethlehem was a small, rather insignificant hill village located about five miles (8 km) south of Jerusalem.  There were probably fewer than 200 residents in the entire settlement.  Some archeologists question whether the town even existed at the time of Jesus’ birth.  For the purposes of this blog, we’re going to assume the town existed.  

Now imagine with me for a moment.  For whatever reason, Joseph and Mary couldn’t find a place to sleep in this tiny hamlet.  They were allowed to bed down in a stable.  The year is somewhere around 6-4 B.C.  Peasants couldn’t afford to spend a lot on sheltering their animals.  Most likely, the stable was a cave with something across the entrance to keep the creatures from wandering off.  Cleanliness in barns and stables is not critical in 21^st century America, and it certainly wasn’t in 1^st century B.C. Bethlehem.  There was probably a lot of manure.  The forage was placed off the ground in a manger or feeding trough, most likely to keep it from mixing with the manure.  The floor of the cave, if it could be seen, was dirt and stone.   If I was Joseph, the first thing I would have done was grab a shovel or other similar device and clean up the place a bit.  Pile the manure outside the entrance, spread out some straw if it was available.  Fire probably wouldn’t have been an option.  Peasants probably couldn’t find or afford extra fuel to burn.  While we hold Dec. 25^th as Jesus’ birthday, it was more likely to have occurred in the spring.  That was when shepherds would have been “tending their flocks by night,” certainly not in the winter.  But still, spring at night can be quite cold even in the hills of Judea.   

Returning to the present; one mid-December day in 2006, I was on my daily walk.  I was pondering how awful the situation must have been for the young couple.  And as I am prone to do, a lyric started coming into my head:

Into the small hillside town,
the weary couple rode.
The young lady large with child,
she bore a heavy load
They went in search of lodging,
some shelter from the cold
But they found no vacancy,
but stable dank and old

The walls were fairly open,
straw thrown on a dirt floor
With oxen, sheep and cattle,
manure piled near the door

Allow me to pause here for a moment and discuss that last line.  From the first part this blog, I think the writer can see that I am trying to portray the nativity as it really happened.  I shared the completed lyric with a lot of different songwriters, and almost 80% of them had an issue with the use of the word “manure” in a Christmas song.  One person commented, “I just don’t see kids caroling outside a door, singing about manure.”  Another said, “the word ‘manure’ has no place in a Christian song and especially not in a Christmas song.”  I was quite surprised and amused by this reaction.  I did have what I thought were very constructive criticisms.  “Too many pronouns” was one I worked on extensively.  There were about twice as many pronouns in the first version.  I was never quite able to remove them from the chorus.  Just to make sure I wasn’t completely out of my head, I checked with some clergy that I know, and asked them about the manure line.  Both of them they didn’t find anything wrong with it.  In fact they felt it was “refreshingly realistic.”  So based on their opinion, the line stayed in. Sorry for the digression.  Here is the rest of the second verse:

So in this drafty stable,
the humbl’st place on earth.
The young mother bore her child,
with joy her song came forth 
 

At the time I had a minor key melody in my head, and here it shifted to the relative major.  I was thinking of my own joy when my son and daughter were born. 

She sang of the coming of the Savior,
she sang of the birth of a new King
She told of the coming of Emmanuel,
and the salvation that He’d bring.
She raised her voice to heaven,
and blessed the Lord above
Gave thanks for Messiah,
gave thanks for mercy and love.

The melody for the chorus has remained unchanged from that first December afternoon.  You may be interested to know, that the melody for the verses left my head some time within the first half hour after I returned to work.  I had been called off on some duty, and while I had my scribblings; the melody was gone.  I would try about a dozen different versions until I found the present one in early November of 2007.   Now on to the second part of the nativity story.   

Then in a hillside pasture,
outside the city walls
Shepherds huddled ’round a fire,
they heard a frightful call
A fierce and mighty angel,
brought news from town nearby.
Then a brigade of angels,
came singing from the sky

As I mentioned earlier, this probably took place in the spring.  I took some artistic license and used the term “city walls”.  Looking at the December issue of National Geographic, Bethlehem is only now getting walls.  I also remembered the way Sister Consetta described angels back in eighth grade religion class at St. Cecilia’s.  She called them “God’s warriors” and that they were not nice like we see in pictures.  Since then I like to think of them as marines with wings; a clean cut version of John Travola’s character in Michael.  To further the military idea I called the heavenly host, a brigade.  The chorus changed the pronoun “she” to “they” and then it was off for a third partial verse.  (Those darn pronouns.)  

So the shepherds went to town,
to see the newborn King
They found Him in a manger,
and of the Babe they’d sing

Once again the chorus uses “they”.  I considered a full verse there and even a fourth verse to cover the magi, but with the length of the song pushing five minutes, I was probably already too verbose.  I also tried editing it down to a shorter version.  It just seemed to fall apart with each attempt. 

So here is my latest Christmas offerings.  I hope you enjoy it.

In A Small Hillside Town  

I want to wish everyone a holy and happy Christmas. 

God bless, 

Tom Whalen 

Copyright © 2007 Thomas B. Whalen

First my apologies for not having written in two months.

During November 2005, our company was still stationed in Liberty Lake.  I was well established on my habit of a daily lunchtime walk.  Out there I used to walk around the block once.  You are probably thinking, “That’s not very far.”  It isn’t until you find out that in the industrial section of Liberty Lake; the blocks are approximately 0.5 miles long. 

This one particular day in mid-November was a crystal clear, brisk cold day with a temperature in the mid teens.  We had had a dusting of snow over night and mountains surrounding the valley had received substantially more.  Looking around at the scenery, phrases started to come into my head. “There’s snow up on the ridgeline.” “Snow snakes race in the street.”  “The geese are heading southward; their honk is all you hear.”  I started forming a lyric.  I remember stopping in at the Liberty Lake Internet Exchange building to ask for piece of paper and a pencil so I could write it down.  (I now carry paper and pen in my jacket all the time.)

As I was forming this in my mind, my thoughts turned to my son Sean and my daughter Megan who presently live in Rhode Island.  The last Christmas I was able to spend with them was in 1994.  For some crazy reason deep in the back of my brain, I always have a hope that perhaps “this year” will be the year I get to spend Christmas with them.  Of course, every year my hopes are dashed. 

When I was back in New Jersey for my father’s funeral, I found out from my sister that Pop had the same hopes as I did.  He would say to my sister, “You know Maureen; I just have this feeling that one day, there’s going to be a knock on the door and there will be Sean and Megan.”  Of course, his dream was never realized either. 

So as I was writing down my lyric, I injected those hopes.  Here is where it stood at the end of that cold lunch hour:

There’s snow up on the ridgeline

The trees are mostly bare

Except for a few leaves

Hanging on here and there

The geese are heading southward

Their honk is all you hear

Despite my finest efforts

It just doesn’t appear

That I’ll see your smiling faces

Before the end of the year.

 

Flurries flutter to the ground

Your breath hangs in the air.

Across the frozen landscape

A train sounds off somewhere

And so my children far away

I’ll offer up a prayer

That perhaps a year from now

Or maybe by mid-year

We’ll finally be united

And share the joys and tears

I didn’t use all the lines, but I never throw anything away.  Down at the bottom of the document I kept all the discards.  It was saved on my hard drive and it stayed there until the following November.  This would have been right after I had wrapped up production on the Celebrate Grace CD because I noted 11/22/06 in the document_  I came across the lyric and I was inspired to expand on it.  First, I wrote a third verse from the discards and other additional ideas.  I thought it would be good to go back to the original imagery after a bridge of some sort.  Here is the third verse:

There’s snow up on the ridgeline

Snow snakes race in the street

A wind sets my cheeks aglow

Ice crunches ‘neath my feet

Despite all my hopes and dreams

Confirming all my fears

Despite my finest efforts

It just doesn’t appear

That I’ll see your smiling faces

Before the end of the year.

Now for the bridge.  I needed something to express sense of loss and longing, of past joys and present sorrow.  I just started writing some free verse and afterwards massaged the rhyme. 

I fall into a reverie
And dream of times gone by
Sitting ’round the Christmas tree
And laughing till we cry 

The sights and smells of Christmas morn
The love of family
Rejoicing in a babe newborn
Whose death would set us free 

I think about those far off days
And how the years fly by
My reverie is set ablaze
A tear comes to my eye 

I placed the bridge between the second and third verses and once again, the piece sat idle for a another year.  This past November, I dug it out again and recorded a simple version of it – just me and my guitar.  I hope you enjoy it.

Snow on the Ridgeline
 

God bless and Merry Christmas,

Tom Whalen

Copyright © 2007 Thomas B. Whalen