A Brief History of Lessons & Carols
Discover the history and beauty of the Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols.
I have a very powerful memory of my first Lessons and Carols service. My wife and I were living in Boston at the time and a seminary professor invited us to join him for the service at Boston University’s Marsh Chapel. We had never heard of “Lessons and Carols” and had no idea what we were in for.
Led by a fantastic Director of Music and an excellent choir, we were absolutely floored by the beauty of the music and the thoughtful arrangement of Scripture. I don’t remember every carol but I vividly remember singing “Jesus Christ the Apple Tree” for the first time. This is not a particularly well-known carol but it has since become one of my favorites.
Here is a wonderful version of the carol arranged by Elizabeth Poston (1905-1987) performed by Ensemble Altera.
In college and seminary, I had spent years learning from Anglican authors like C.S. Lewis, Dorothy Sayers, John Stott, J.I. Packer, and N.T. Wright. But this service was my first real taste of Anglican liturgy. It was a majestic experience. While it’s probably too dramatic to say it changed our lives, it’s not an exaggeration to say this service played a part in our becoming Anglican.
Even after just one taste, it was abundantly clear why the Festival of Lessons and Carols has been a cherished Christmas tradition for almost 150 years. Like in so many places around the globe, this special service has become a beloved tradition at my own church, Church of the Ascension in Pittsburgh.
In what follows, I want to share a little bit about the history and meaning of this simple and moving service.
Whence the service?
The very first Lessons and Carols service was held late at night on Christmas Eve in 1880. The faithful gathered in a large wooden shed in Truro, a cathedral city in the southwestern tip of England. The shed was a temporary home for the faithful as the stone cathedral was being constructed.
According to church historians, there is evidence that the medieval church crafted similar carol services and these were held in the years leading up to 1880. That said, the Lessons and Carols service as we know it today was crafted by Bishop Edward White Benson (1829-1896). E.W. Benson was the first Bishop of Truro and he would eventually become Archbishop of Canterbury in 1883
The reason why Abp. Benson devised the service is actually quite funny. It is said that he was much disappointed with the alternative forms of revelry that took place in the local Cornish pubs around Christmas (read: ale, lots of ale). To encourage a more wholesome celebration of the greatest event in human history, he arranged the service of Lessons and Carols.
In good Anglican fashion, Abp. Benson drew from the Church’s ancient liturgical tradition to create the liturgy. Following the medieval custom of a sequence of nine-lessons, Benson designed the service around nine passages of Scripture (lessons) threaded with nine Christmas-themed hymns (carols). According to Abp. Benson’s son, Arthur, the lessons “were read by various officers of the Church, beginning with a chorister, and ending, through the different grades, with the Bishop.”
The idea was a hit! Some 400 people attended the first service in 1880. Truro has hosted it every year since.
Almost half a century after the first service in Truro, the Festival of Lessons and Carols debuted at King’s College Chapel in Cambridge, England on the Eve of Christmas 1918. Though the service was created at Truro, it is now most widely associated with King’s. This is thanks, in large part, to the BBC broadcasting the service almost every year since 1928 (my understanding is that 1930 has been the only exception).
The Lessons and Carols service at King’s was arranged by the then Dean of the College, a man by the name of Eric Milner-White. Although the service debuted at King’s in 1918, the service as we have come to know it took its final shape the year after. In 1919, Milner-White made some slight changes to the order and selection of the Scripture passages. He also began the service with the hymn “Once in royal David’s city,” which has become the tradition. In fact, all the changes made in 1919 have become the standard.
The Lessons and Carols service at my local parish, Church of the Ascension in Pittsburgh, carries on this great tradition. As with Lessons and Carols services around the globe, our service begins with this classic hymn. And, while the carol selections change from year to year, we read more or less the same lessons that were selected back in 1919.
For the liturgical nerds out, here is chart comparing the selection of Lessons from the original 1880 service at Truro1, the contemporary King’s service, and the service at my parish in Pittsburgh:
Whence the power?
As I’ve reflected on my first Lessons and Carols service and the subsequent experiences these past 12 years, I have been wondering about what it is that makes the service so moving. Why has the Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols become such an institution?
I think part of it is the magic of the season. The colorful lights, the cheer, Advent – all of these things re-enchant our experience of time. Of course, twinkling lights are not nearly on the same level as the season of Advent. Nevertheless, each in their own way open us up to something.
That something is sometimes misidentified as nostalgia. The desire for it is often exploited by The Advertisers. The “thing” I think we’re open ultimately open to is transcendence. Even if only for a moment. There is just something in the air during this time of the year.
There is an openness, a longing, a desiring that the beauty and majesty of Lessons and Carols fits neatly in to. Proverbs 15:23 comes to mind: the Festival Service of Nine Lessons and Carols is “a word spoken in due season, how good it is!”
So, an important part of what makes the service so moving is the context. But the main reason it is so powerful is the content. Here’s how the Dean of King’s College describes it in the “Introduction” to the 2018 King’s College Order of Service:
Wherever the service is heard and however it is adapted, whether the music is provided by choir or congregation, the pattern and strength of the service, as Milner-White pointed out, derive from the lessons and not the music. ‘The main theme is the development of the loving purposes of God ...’ seen ‘through the windows and the words of the Bible’.
I think this is mostly right. As beautiful as the music may be, the backbone of the service really is the loving purpose of God in history as revealed through Holy Scripture. This comes through powerfully as we hear selections from Genesis, Isaiah, and the Gospels.
I love Milner-White’s metaphor here: the Scriptures are windows. Through them we see the whole story of salvation. Bishop N.T. Wright has used a similar metaphor when talking about how every passage from the Bible offers a glimpse of the whole.
Here’s what Bishop Tom says:
If I have a room in my house which has a small window, if I stand back from it, I may only see a little bit of the countryside outside. If I press my nose up against that small window, I can see this whole sweep of countryside around. Now, when we read ten verses of John, or Romans, or Isaiah, or whatever it is, the temptation is only to think of those ten verses. But actually, we ought to see this as a little window through which we see the whole thing.
As we press our noses against these nine lessons, we see the sweep of the whole drama of redemption. Through these windows our eyes glimpse the glory of the humble Redeemer. These passages remind us of the hope available in Jesus Christ. It’s hard to imagine a better way to celebrate one of the greatest events of human history: the Word becoming flesh and dwelling among us.
While I tend to agree that the Scripture is the source of the power, I don’t want to overstate the case. The music also makes the service. The music elevates the experience of hearing the Scriptures to another register.
As is so often the case, the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. That is certainly true here. Taken together, the Scriptures and the hymns function antiphonally. They are a kind of call-and-response. The word is read. It goes forth. It does not return empty. The congregation responds with carols of praise. The poetry of the music offers the people a fitting response to the words of prophecy, judgment, and promise. It truly is a wonderful and wonder-filled experience.
But don’t take my word for it. You should experience it for yourself. If you’ve never been to a Lessons and Carols service, search one out locally or tune in to the BBC livestream of the service at King’s College. If participating in a Lessons and Carols service is a beloved annual tradition, invite a friend along this year.
As you do, I hope you’ll catch a glimpse of the beauty of Jesus and his love for you and the whole world.
His beauty doth all things excel,
By faith I know but ne'er can tell
The glory which I now can see,
In Jesus Christ the Appletree.2
Photo credit: Rafa Esteve, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons
Many thanks to Christopher Gray, the Director of Music for St. John’s College Cambridge, for graciously providing me with a reproduction of the original 1880 liturgy.
R.H., “Jesus Christ the Apple Tree,” The Spiritual Magazine, August 1761.