There’s
a thread going on right now about that very song (over in the Sacred Scripture forum for some reason).
Yes I know. Some objections are valid in a theologically refined sort of way, and depending on how you understand the lyrics, but it doesn’t mean I can’t like the song.
To me, it’s kind of academic anyway, because if one takes the interlocutor’s questions as expressions of the wonderment of the interlocutor and realize Mary’s answer to the ones directly relating to divinity would be “yes, of course”, that set of issues goes away. Also, the “soon deliver you” could elicit a theological kind of response relating to the Immaculate Conception if “deliver” relates to sin (“no”, she might respond, “I was born without sin, and do not require deliverance”) or one to death itself (the Assumption. “I did not anticipate being delivered from death in that manner or at that time, nor did I even begin to understand what that deliverance from earthly life might mean.”) She might not have known Jesus would walk on water, though she would have thought Him capable of it, but, yes, she would known that kissing Him was kissing the face of God.
Just depends on how one thinks of the state of mind of the interlocutor, what the referenes are exactly, and the responses Mary would have.
In a way, the song does bring to mind Talbot’s “Can you Believe?” because he goes through a series of questions (e.g. “Can you believe there’s a miracle coming, and can you believe it will take you away.”). We fill in our own meanings, and our mind makes us do it. The questions are rhetorical in a sense, in that we know what the answers are, but simply hearing them asked in that way is intriguing and challenging to the listener. When Talbot asks us that, our minds respond to it. In a similar way, the “Mary did you know” questions as addressed to us can be thought of as “Can you believe” as well, e.g., “can you, do you, believe He walked on water?” It takes it out of the remoteness of written words in Scripture to a very personal level by asking it of Jesus’ mother, because we can relate to that better sometimes than to written words.
I always took the questions in “Mary Did You Know” to be more in the nature of challenges to our own thoughts. “When you kiss your little baby, you kiss the Face of God” ought to remind us that the face of Jesus is not only part of Jesus, but of every baby and every human being. It makes us think. When we kiss this little baby or that old lady in a nursing home, do we realize we’re kissing the face of God, just as Mary did in kissing Jesus’ face? That shift from “little baby” to “Face of God” juxtaposes the smallness of our humanity with the majesty of God, and tells us there is really not a difference, due to the Incarnation. Long thoughts meant to be stirred by a very simple song.
I think of “Lulazje Jesuniu” in the same sort of way, which is why I like it. “Lullaby baby Jesus, my little pearl”. How often do we think of Jesus as “my little pearl”. We ought to. “Bring him good things, sweet bread and butter.” A newborn can’t eat either one, but it’s an expression of the simplicity of a love for God. We would bring our toddler sweet bread and butter. Same thing with “bring him sweet raisins and almonds”. It dramatically humanizes and personalizes something we often think in a rather abstract way.
“Carol of the Drum” (Little Drummer Boy) is somewhat the same. Who would play a drum for a baby? One could even take it as offensive to God; waking up a baby with drumming, even presuming that somehow something like drumming would be pleasing to God. But the whole point of it is that one brings those gifts one has, and the very inappropriateness affirms that our best is acceptable even if we might reasonably doubt it in a purely human sense.
I’ll stop. Sorry.
I enjoyed it though.
Nowell just looks so… strange
