Hacking through the symbolism in “Children Go Where I send Thee”

Image accessed via SecondHand Songs

Man, if I went through this song line by line, starting to write as I am on Nov. 1, giving all the variants both of the song itself and also its precursors, Christmas would be long gone by the time I finished. I’m sure there have been whole doctoral dissertations written on just this subject. But not everyone shares my obsession with history and etymology, so I’m going to concentrate on this version, usually sung or performed as a Christmas song even though none of the verses except for the first one refers in any direct way to the Christmas story.

The original format of the song is that of a “call and response,” with one person starting out each verse with a commend, “Go where I send thee,” then the crowd responding with the question “How shall you send me?” and then the soloist answering with each new idea and the crowd joining in on the lines already sung. This pattern may or may not be followed in the many and varied arrangements that have been written over the years. And while children’s choirs often perform the song, the word “children” doesn’t necessarily refer to actual children but rather to the listeners, perhaps seen as a congregation of God’s children.

It is clear that “Children” is a true folk song: that is, one that was passed down orally over many years until the lyrics and the tune were written down. As is typical with songs of this type, there’s no one “definitive” version. If you will permit me one historical byway, I will note that the trail leading to what we sing today starts way back with the Haggadah text used to guide the Jewish Passover Seder, a special meal with its own set of rituals that celebrates the Exodus. The song “Who Knows One?” (אחד מי יודע) became a part of the Seder sometime in the 15th century and is now so accepted that it’s printed in the back of the official text. Like “Children,” “Who Knows One?” is a cumulative teaching song with each verse adding a new truth which has to be added to all of the preceding verses. The official version has 13 verses, and the whole listing is much simpler and clearer than the later versions that came out of the British Isles, moved to North America and in particular Appalachia, and then were adopted by African-American slaves. The most common lyrics used today come from that last source and don’t have the same mix of “Christian catechesis, astronomical mnemonics, and what may be pagan cosmology” as do the British/Appalachian ones, so I’ll stick with those. Here are the most common lines, sometimes with varied wording, and the meaning or meanings included if necessary.

One for the little bitty baby,
Wrapped in swaddling clothing,
Lying in a Manger.
He was born, born, born in Bethle
hem

Two for Paul and Silas
The two preachers who were imprisoned for preaching the Gospel in the Christian New Testament book of Acts. Versions coming out of slave populations tended to emphasize imprisonment. Earlier versions seem to refer to Adam and Eve, or even to Jesus and John the Baptist, but the image of imprisonment seems to have been more appealing to the African-American enslaved population.

Three for the Hebrew children
Shadrach, Mesach, and Abednego, the three captured Jews in the Jewish Bible book of Daniel, who were thrown into a “fiery furnace” for refusing to bow down to an idolatrous statue of the Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzar and were rescued by God. Another imprisonment/punishment scenario in this version, by the way. British/Appalachian ones typically refer to the three Magi.

Four for the Gospel preachers/writers, or for the four stood a-knockin’ at the door.
So either the four Evangelists, authors of the first four books of the Christian New Testament, or, if they’re knocking, the four friends who were so determined to get their paralyzed friend to Jesus for healing that when they couldn’t get into the house where Jesus was teaching because of the crowd they went up onto the roof, cut a hole in it, and let their friend down on ropes to be healed.

Five for the Gospel preachers, or for the five who came back/stayed alive, or the bread they did divide.
If you don’t use four Evangelists for the previous verse you can use it here, with the fifth one’s referring to the Apostle Peter or the Apostle Paul. The five who came back alive could refer to the five people in the NT who were raised from the dead other than the resurrection of Jesus—yes, there are five. I counted ‘em! As for the bread, that would refer to the feeding of the five thousand, in which Jesus fed the crowd with “five loaves and two fishes.”

Six for the six that couldn’t get/never got picked/fixed, or the six proud waters/walkers, or the days when the world got fixed.
A comparison is often drawn here to the six water jars at the wedding of Cana, site of Jesus’ first miracle of changing water into wine. According to the book of John, there were “six waterpots of stone” standing there at the feast which Jesus had the servants fill with water and which then was poured out as wine. But those jars did get picked! And they were filled with wine. So I’m confused about that one—it should be “that did get picked” or “did get fixed” or something like that. Probably a corruption of a line that was clearer. The “proud” waters would have of course been the water that was indeed turned to wine. And the “walkers” might represent the servants who carried the waterpots to the feast and poured out the wine. May I include here one of my favorite biblical phrases? We’re told that the master of the feast praised this wine though he had no idea where it came from, “but the servants which drew the water knew.” They were in on the miracle because they’d obeyed Jesus’ command to fill the waterpots and then pour them out; they did the work behind the scenes. The six days when the world got fixed refers, of course, to the six days of creation in Genesis chapter one.

Seven for the seven that went to/heaven/that never got to heaven.
These two groups of seven occur in the same parable told by Jesus: there were seven wise and seven foolish virgins. The wise ones have their lamps filled with oil and so are ready when the bridegroom comes—a complicated bit of theology/Middle Eastern custom here–and the foolish ones don’t. While they’re out getting oil the door to the wedding chamber is closed, and they’re left out in the cold.
Once in awhile there’s the version: “Seven for the day God laid down his head,” a reference to the fact Genesis says that on the seventh day of creation God rested.

Eight for the eight that stood at the gate or that the flood couldn’t take.
An obvious reference to Noah, his three sons, and their respective wives. The “gate” would be the door of the ark that Noah built, and when everyone was inside “God shut the door.” But “door” doesn’t rhyme with “eight.”

Nine for the nine that stood in the line, or that dressed so fine, or for the angel choirs divine, or (from a British version) the nine bright shiners.
All of these various wordings fit with the idea of a reference to angels. Early Christian mysticism said that there were nine orders of angels, although that idea doesn’t occur in Scripture. The “bright shiners” are almost certainly stars, but angels and stars are often associated in the Bible. Job 38:7 refers to that idea: “When the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy.”

Ten for the Ten Commendments.

Eleven for the ‘leven who went to heaven
Probably a reference to the fact that only eleven of the original disciples went to heaven, since Judas Iscariot betrayed Jesus.

Twelve for the twelve apostles/disciples.

There are many versions to choose from for this song. I’ll start with my favorite, from my favorite Christmas album/CD:

Then a real historical treasure, a recording made from wax disks in the 1930’s of a Black prison work gang. Be sure to read the info underneath the YT video:

And with that I really must close.

© Debi Simons