Commentary piece from the Times today by Robert Crompton:
Wrong sighs
I do love a Christmas carol, the tunes, naturally, but also the words, so much more optimistic than the doom-laden death-cult lyrics served up in many hymns the rest of the year. Except the last verse of We Three Kings, an otherwise jaunty number, is always a bit of a downer, especially when sung by some adorable kid with her whole life ahead of her: “Myrrh is mine, its bitter perfume/ Breathes of life of gathering gloom/ Sorrowing, sighing, bleeding, dying/ Sealed in a stone-cold tomb.” Crikey, cheers for that.
When is the penny going to drop with Christianity? Death, martyrdom, suffering, pain, loss, blood, these are not concepts with which any brand would want to be identified. If that’s the core of your message, no wonder you’ve got a problem.
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