Thinking about the Huron Carol

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This article was published 23/12/2023 (1039 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

‘Twas in the moon of winter-time

When all the birds had fled,

That mighty Gitchi Manitou

Sent angel choirs instead;

Before their light the stars grew dim,

And wandering hunter heard the hymn:

“Jesus your King is born, Jesus is born,

In excelsis gloria.”

Those are the opening lines of what’s known as the Huron Carol, a song that is widely regarded as the first, if not the quintessential, Canadian Christmas carol.

In fact, those aren’t the carol’s original words, written in in the 17th century by Jean de Brébeuf, a Jesuit missionary among the Hurons (also known as the Wendat). They are the words of Canadian church choir director and poet Jesse Edgar Middleton, who wrote them in 1926.

In fact, Middleton’s words are less a translation of the original and more a complete remaking of the lyrics — they bear no relation to Brébeuf’s text. Here are the original opening lines.

Have courage, you who are humans; Jesus, he is born

Behold, the spirit who had us as prisoners has fled

Do not listen to it, as it corrupts the spirits of our minds

Jesus, he is born

There’s no wondering why Middleton’s version caught the popular imagination, what with its overly-romanticized and early 20th century paternalistic view of Indigenous life — it’s references to a lodge of broken bark, a baby wrapped in a robe of rabbit skin and hunter braves.

While the song has been popular for decades, it is under increasing scrutiny as Canadians grapple with the legacy of colonization and residential schools. Some are wondering: Should we be singing a song that celebrates the coming of Christ to a people who suffered so much from Christian-supported colonization and church-run residential schools?

One denomination that wrestled with that question is Mennonite Church Canada. When that denomination created its new hymnal, they decided to leave the Huron Carol out. Among the reasons they gave was how Middleton’s lyrics are an example of the image of the noble savage, casting Indigenous peoples as innocent children of the forest, along with the history of colonialism and the subsequent loss of land and culture.

They also considered how Middleton’s lyrics present a uniform view of Canadian Indigenous people. For example, he used the Algonquin term for God, “Gitchi Manitou” or “Great Spirit,” and not the correct Huron word which is “Hawendio,” which means “he is great or large in word.”

What do Indigenous people think of the song? There would be many opinions, of course. Tom Jackson, who is Métis, still sings it to raise funds for the Red Cross. But Kyle Mason, the son of Indian residential and day school survivors, has mixed feelings about it.

Mason, a former evangelical pastor who speaks to non-Indigenous Canadians about reconciliation, recognizes that people who sing it today have no ill intent. But given the history of colonization and the cultural genocide inflicted on Indigenous people with help from churches, he thinks it might best be avoided.

“I know the impact Christianity had on Indigenous people,” he said. “It brought us great sorrow.” Not singing it, he added, would be a way to “respect the spirit and culture of Indigenous people.”

Maybe what needs to be avoided is just Middleton’s version of the carol — not dispense with the song altogether. For that, Dana Lynn Seaborn, a Métis woman who has lived in territory named for the Wendat and studied traditional Wendat culture and history, has a new set of lyrics to consider to go along with the much-loved tune. Here’s her version of the carol.

We gather at midwinter dark to share this hallowed night.

Within our longhouse, warm and dry, the fire glows with light.

Our Elders sing a teaching song;

it fills the night that seems so long:

This is our sacred home, ‘neath heaven’s dome,

shining stars proclaim the dawn.

Sky Woman came down from above, but found no place to stand,

till Toad put mud on Turtle’s back and that became the land.

Sky Woman died in giving birth;

her holy body fed the earth.

This is our sacred home, ‘neath heaven’s dome,

shining stars proclaim the dawn.

A valiant Little Turtle rode a cloud up to the sky;

she used the lightning to make fire and made our Sun to shine.

He journeys ‘neath the world we see,

returns to make the shadows flee.

This is our sacred home, ‘neath heaven’s dome,

shining stars proclaim the dawn.

The Black Robes came from lands afar and told us of a day

Judea had been colonized and Rome must be obeyed.

A mother bore a child of light;

rejoicing filled the starlit night:

This is our sacred home, ‘neath heaven’s dome,

shining stars proclaim the dawn.

Rejoice! Have courage one and all! The stars shine overhead,

the same stars that shone down upon a baby’s humble bed.

The infant grew to be a man;

his words, like stars, light many lands.

This is our sacred home, ‘neath heaven’s dome,

shining stars proclaim the dawn.

Maybe Seaborn’s version will catch on one day too — just like the old one did.

faith@freepress.mb.ca

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