Carol Services

Something that rather surprised me when I found out about it (a small mirandum) was that the Ordinariate's 'Anglican Patrimony' includes, of all things, the Carol Service. Setting aside whether something of such comparatively recent invention can truly be called 'patrimony', my first thought was to ask why on earth anyone would want to burden themselves with the wretched thing. One of the benefits from making one's submission to Rome would surely be that one had at last escaped this annual blight.

Now, we have to distinguish between carol services and carol concerts. I have no objection to carol concerts, because they make no pretence to being an act of worship and if you don't want to go, you just don't buy a ticket. The carol service has all the trappings of a church service, often in spades, but how far it is truly an act of worship is disputable. Throughout a lifetime of school-mastering I have attended several carol services each December and arranged not a few, but the question I am always left asking is, 'What are they for?'

They are not sacramental; they are not part of the Divine Office, nor a substitute for it (though I remember from years ago an elderly priest sitting in choir and quietly getting on with Evensong by himself while a carol service raged around him); they are not in any noticeable way an act of preparation for Christmass, which would presumably be of a penitential character; though there are Bible readings, it scarcely qualifies as lectio divina. What they do seem to be, to my mind, are occasions of sentimental narcissism, frequently with a large dose of ungodly pride, where God barely gets a look-in.

Let's examine some carol services more closely. First off is the primary school carol service, aka Worshipping the Infant King. Unfortunately it is not Jesus who is worshipped but the offspring of filiolatrous parents, who have come to adore little Kaitlyn and Calum being so sweet in 'We Will Rock You'. The programme will be firmly in the hands of the teachers, so any serious catechesis of the children is right off the agenda; in fact, straightforward readings from the Bible probably discriminate against the dyslexic ('Jade cried all evening when she knew she wasn't reading again this year ...') so you are as likely to have a playlet about the Littlest Donkey as you are to get Luke chapter 2. This is church as an extension of Mumsnet.

Eventually the children leave primary school, and you move on to the Rutterfest. This is the usual form in secondary schools with any pretence at having a choir, and in many parish churches as well. The standard of performance will be as good as can be managed, so it is something of a shame that so much effort is expended on material that is, frankly, appalling. The great exponent of this genre, of course, is John Rutter, of whom the composer David Arditti has commented:

Rutter ... is ... hard to take seriously, because of the way in which his sheer technical facility or versatility leads to a superficial, unstable crossover style which is neither quite classical not pop, and which tends towards mawkish sentimentality in his sugarily-harmonised and orchestrated melodies [in New Composers of Tonal Classical Music]. I couldn't put it better myself, except to add that Rutter, who has gone on record as saying that he is 'not particularly religious', frequently writes his own lyrics which are frequently characterised by jejune rhymes, devoid of theological content, and unbearably twee. Rutter is not alone in apparently believing that the message of Christmass is a big warm feeling with no real religious meaning. The very cosy nature of this sort of carol service, which makes no demands and poses no challenges to the listener, is, of course the reason for the popularity of the genre. Many will say, 'At least it gets people into church,' but this simply provokes the question, 'To what end?' The programme of readings, usually with no explanations given, will mean little or nothing to people whose knowledge of the Bible is hazy or non-existent (how many people for whom this is their one visit to church in the year could say what the first reading from Genesis ch. 3 has to do with Christmass?)

The other sort of carol service is, of course, the Elite or Very Superior model.

'consort of viols ...'

Usually found in the chapels of grander institutions of higher education and in suburban parish churches of a certain social homogeneity, the Very Superior Carol Service boasts a professional or semi-professional choir, augmented as likely as not by a consort of viols and the odd crumhorn player, performing 14th century Savoyard villanelles in the original dialect.

'the odd crumhorn player'

The pattern of the service will be strictly according to King's, with its unctuous prose from Eric Milner-White ('.. be it our care and delight this Christmastide … in heart and mind to go even unto Bethlehem …' and all the rest of it), and is unlikely to come in at under an hour and a half. When it is over, refreshments will be served – no Tesco's ready-mixed mulled wine here, but more likely a recreation of a recipe for possett Jeremy found in Harleian MSS 370 when researching the screenplay for his documentary on Odo the Contagious. The whole accent is on showing off, and the fact that it takes place in a sacred building and might have a sacred purpose tends to pass most participants by.

Well, of course I am guying the whole business – but can you put your hand on your heart and say you have never been to a carol service like one of these? The Ordinariate is welcome to take it with them, but I do not see in the carol service anything approaching a Catholic spirituality – tacking Benediction on to the end simply underlines the barrenness of what is on offer. Meanwhile, no longer being in the scholastic trade, I shall make it my care and delight to keep well away from carols until Midnight Mass itself.

And a merry ding-ding-a-bloody-dong to you all.