Everything that happens with Christ forms a prefiguration for the church.
— Martin Luther
As the season of Epiphany begins on January 6th, many parish choirs will hopefully sing the traditional carol, “Tomorrow shall be my dancing day,” which tells the entire story of salvation in the voice of Christ:
Tomorrow shall be my dancing day;
I would my true love did so chance
To see the legend of my play,
To call my true love to my dance;
Chorus
Sing, oh! my love, oh! my love, my love, my love,
This have I done for my true love.
Then was I born of a virgin pure,
Of her I took fleshly substance
Thus was I knit to man's nature
To call my true love to my dance.
Chorus
In a manger laid, and wrapped I was
So very poor, this was my chance
Between an ox and a silly poor ass
To call my true love to my dance.
Chorus
Then afterwards baptized I was;
The Holy Ghost on me did glance,
My Father’s voice heard I from above,
To call my true love to my dance.
Chorus
Scholars generally agree that this anonymous text is rooted in Medieval piety. The text likely originated as part of the Medieval drama, which developed in three principle forms: the miracle play, the mystery play, and the morality play. Miracle plays were normally based on miracles associated with each saint. The mystery play, which is the most likely “home stage” of this text, was based on scriptural episodes, such as the resurrection, the creation, and the day of final judgment. Morality plays had a moral or allegorical tale as their basis, although they probably post-date the text at hand. If indeed “Dancing Day” originated as part of a mystery play, then it might have been sung to proclaim the miracle that Christ has takes His churchly bride (Jn. 3:29; 2 Cor. 11:2; Eph. 5:23; Rev. 19:7; 21:9) to Himself. If that is the case, then the phrase, “the legend of my play” pictures the drama of Christ saving and seeking His church. In the wake of His death and resurrection (“tomorrow”), He “dances” with His churchly bride (His “true love” [Is. 62:4-5; Jer. 2:2; Hos. 2:21-22]) at the royal wedding feast.
The reader who is not familiar with “Dancing Day” might be struck by the Vox Christi or “Voice of Christ” method, in which Christ speak to His bride, the church, and declares all that He has done for her as His one true love. This is a relatively rare device in our hymnody, although most readers of “Lifted Voice” might be familiar with J. S. Bach’s use of dialogues between Christ and His church in many of his sacred cantatas, as well as Luther’s use of the technique in his hymn, “Dear Christians, One and All, Rejoice”:
I would my true love did so chance
To see the legend of my play,
To call my true love to my dance;
Chorus
Sing, oh! my love, oh! my love, my love, my love,
This have I done for my true love.
Then was I born of a virgin pure,
Of her I took fleshly substance
Thus was I knit to man's nature
To call my true love to my dance.
Chorus
In a manger laid, and wrapped I was
So very poor, this was my chance
Between an ox and a silly poor ass
To call my true love to my dance.
Chorus
Then afterwards baptized I was;
The Holy Ghost on me did glance,
My Father’s voice heard I from above,
To call my true love to my dance.
Chorus
Scholars generally agree that this anonymous text is rooted in Medieval piety. The text likely originated as part of the Medieval drama, which developed in three principle forms: the miracle play, the mystery play, and the morality play. Miracle plays were normally based on miracles associated with each saint. The mystery play, which is the most likely “home stage” of this text, was based on scriptural episodes, such as the resurrection, the creation, and the day of final judgment. Morality plays had a moral or allegorical tale as their basis, although they probably post-date the text at hand. If indeed “Dancing Day” originated as part of a mystery play, then it might have been sung to proclaim the miracle that Christ has takes His churchly bride (Jn. 3:29; 2 Cor. 11:2; Eph. 5:23; Rev. 19:7; 21:9) to Himself. If that is the case, then the phrase, “the legend of my play” pictures the drama of Christ saving and seeking His church. In the wake of His death and resurrection (“tomorrow”), He “dances” with His churchly bride (His “true love” [Is. 62:4-5; Jer. 2:2; Hos. 2:21-22]) at the royal wedding feast.
The reader who is not familiar with “Dancing Day” might be struck by the Vox Christi or “Voice of Christ” method, in which Christ speak to His bride, the church, and declares all that He has done for her as His one true love. This is a relatively rare device in our hymnody, although most readers of “Lifted Voice” might be familiar with J. S. Bach’s use of dialogues between Christ and His church in many of his sacred cantatas, as well as Luther’s use of the technique in his hymn, “Dear Christians, One and All, Rejoice”:
| He spoke to His beloved Son: ‘Tis time to have compassion. Then go bright Jewel of my crown, And bring to men salvation; From sin and sorrow set him free, Slay bitter death for him that he May live with Thee forever. |
— The Lutheran Hymnal (TLH) 387.5
And the church declares the good news that the Son speaks to her:
| To me He spake: Hold fast to Me, I am thy Rock and Castle; Thy ransom I Myself will be, For thee I strive and wrestle; For I am with thee, I am thine, And evermore thou shalt be Mine: The Foe shall not divide us. — TLH 387.7 |
The Christology of this rather simple and straight-forward text is also striking. The Luther quote that I have chosen as the header for this article declares that the life of Christ prefigures the life of the church. This continuity between Christology and Ecclesiology perhaps best embodies the theology of this text. Christ “took fleshly substance” and “was knit to man’s nature” that we, in turn, might behold Him as our own blood-brother. Our Bridegroom was laid and wrapped in a manger, amongst the animals and the poor, to rescue us from spiritual poverty and to give us all the riches of salvation. Christ was baptized in the Jordan and publicly proclaimed to be the Son of God by the Father that we might be baptized and declared to sons and daughters of God. This prefiguration from Christ to His church, from Christology to ecclesiology, is also evident in three of the “missing” stanzas (the original text, in so far as it can be reconstructed, had 11 stanzas):
For thirty pence Judas me sold,
His covetousness for to advance:
Mark whom I kiss, the same do hold!
The same is he shall lead the dance.
Chorus
Before Pilate the Jews me brought,
Where Barabbas had deliverance;
They scourged me and set me at nought,
Judged me to die to lead the dance.
Chorus
Then on the cross hanged I was,
Where a spear my heart did glance;
There issued forth both water and blood,
To call my true love to my dance.
Chorus
To my best knowledge, these three stanzas have not been set to music, which explains why “Dancing Day” is usually sung for Christmas or Epiphany. And the references to “the Jews,” which simply narrate Jesus’ persecution by the unbelieving Jews, would not survive today’s postmodern mind! The stanzas on Christ’s Passion, however, are worth incorporating into the church bulletin or even into the sermon for the sake of the “for us” principle of Christian theology. For us Christ was kissed by Judas so He could lead us in the dance of salvation. For us He traded places with Barabbas so we could be set free from the death sentence that we inherited since Adam. For us Christ was hanged on the cross and pierced with a spear, so that water and blood from His side would create a churchly Bride for Himself (I Jn. 5:8) and call her to the sacramental wedding feast.
It is no surprise, then, that the rich imagery of the person and work of Christ in “Dancing Day” has inspired several composers to set the first four stanzas to music. (The three I have chosen for this column, by the way, are all twentieth century British composers, who probably have a deeper understanding of royalty and feasting than many Americans.) In the following setting by England’s late Sir David Willcocks (1919-2015), listen to the lively ¾ meter, which is closely associated with Medieval dance. Notice how the text “rides the wave” of the music and is fitting for the joyful union of Christ and His church:
For thirty pence Judas me sold,
His covetousness for to advance:
Mark whom I kiss, the same do hold!
The same is he shall lead the dance.
Chorus
Before Pilate the Jews me brought,
Where Barabbas had deliverance;
They scourged me and set me at nought,
Judged me to die to lead the dance.
Chorus
Then on the cross hanged I was,
Where a spear my heart did glance;
There issued forth both water and blood,
To call my true love to my dance.
Chorus
To my best knowledge, these three stanzas have not been set to music, which explains why “Dancing Day” is usually sung for Christmas or Epiphany. And the references to “the Jews,” which simply narrate Jesus’ persecution by the unbelieving Jews, would not survive today’s postmodern mind! The stanzas on Christ’s Passion, however, are worth incorporating into the church bulletin or even into the sermon for the sake of the “for us” principle of Christian theology. For us Christ was kissed by Judas so He could lead us in the dance of salvation. For us He traded places with Barabbas so we could be set free from the death sentence that we inherited since Adam. For us Christ was hanged on the cross and pierced with a spear, so that water and blood from His side would create a churchly Bride for Himself (I Jn. 5:8) and call her to the sacramental wedding feast.
It is no surprise, then, that the rich imagery of the person and work of Christ in “Dancing Day” has inspired several composers to set the first four stanzas to music. (The three I have chosen for this column, by the way, are all twentieth century British composers, who probably have a deeper understanding of royalty and feasting than many Americans.) In the following setting by England’s late Sir David Willcocks (1919-2015), listen to the lively ¾ meter, which is closely associated with Medieval dance. Notice how the text “rides the wave” of the music and is fitting for the joyful union of Christ and His church:
Perhaps the most commonly performed setting the past few decades is by Great Britain’s late John Gardner (1917-2011). Listen for the joyful, punctuated, and percussive rhythms, a most fitting musical depiction of the words, “to call my true love to my dance”:
Parishes who are gifted with good female vocalists (including children’s voices) will not want to miss the following setting, arranged by John Rutter (b. 1945), for treble voices (SSA) with harp (or piano):
This is the final piece in a larger collection (“My Dancing Day”), which is similar in scope and sequence to Benjamin Britten’s “Ceremony of Carols”. Rutter’s complete “Dancing Day” is about 20 minutes in length and includes carols that cover the entire Christmas story through Epiphany I (The Baptism of Our Lord), including the Annunciation, the journey to Bethlehem, and much more. If the parish music director is willing to tackle the entire work (which can be sung in two sections), then it would be fitting to schedule a service of Epiphany lessons and carols. This might be based on the annual Festival of Nine Lessons & Carols, made famous by the annual broadcast from King’s College, Cambridge (the first two videos above are from this annual festival). In the Lutheran tradition, this service take place during the evening hours and use the liturgy of Vespers or Evening Prayer. The pastor might insert appropriate lessons & carols for the Epiphany season after the Psalm and let them function as the “sung sermon,” followed by the Canticle and the remainder of the liturgy. If the service is scheduled to allow for participation by sister congregations in the area, then the music director might drawn upon the vocal talent and capable liturgical leadership of the most gifted musicians and theologians in the local circuit.
In his masterful study, Martin Luther’s Doctrine of Christ, Ian D. Kingston Siggins describes Luther’s understanding of the union between Christ and His church: “The bride cannot rest or be satisfied until she has only her beloved; and Christ, too, will have His bride only, and none beside” (p. 260). This is precisely the point of “Dancing Day” and the liturgical cycle from Christmas Day through Epiphany: Christ has done all for you, His bride, that you might have what the Collect for Epiphany Day calls “the fruition of [His] glorious Godhead” (TLH p. 58). That is to say, the One who took fleshly substance and was knit to your nature in order to share with you all the fruits of His Godhead: life, salvation, and resurrection from the dead.
This He has done for you, His true love!
In his masterful study, Martin Luther’s Doctrine of Christ, Ian D. Kingston Siggins describes Luther’s understanding of the union between Christ and His church: “The bride cannot rest or be satisfied until she has only her beloved; and Christ, too, will have His bride only, and none beside” (p. 260). This is precisely the point of “Dancing Day” and the liturgical cycle from Christmas Day through Epiphany: Christ has done all for you, His bride, that you might have what the Collect for Epiphany Day calls “the fruition of [His] glorious Godhead” (TLH p. 58). That is to say, the One who took fleshly substance and was knit to your nature in order to share with you all the fruits of His Godhead: life, salvation, and resurrection from the dead.
This He has done for you, His true love!
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