O Come, Emmanuel

I didn’t grow up Catholic or in a liturgical Protestant church setting, so my fascination with the liturgical church calendar has come recently. Maybe it’s my way of trying to separate the American Christianity stuff from the Christianity stuff. Or maybe seeing things through another cultural lens is a way of drawing more meaning out of an already meaningful season. And anyway, ancient-future faith is a pretty good description of Christianity.

But amid all the Christmas carols that start playing on the radio stations as soon as Thanksgiving is over (or sooner), a lone Advent carol stands out: O Come, O Come Emmanuel. Most of our hymnals don’t record every verse, but in its entirety, it echoes a much older prayer—seven prayers, the seven “O Antiphons”—dating back to the 7^th century AD. Each prayer begins with O and a Messianic name for Jesus that appeared in the Old Testament prophetic books. Each prayer invokes memories of ancient stories, ancient hopes, and ancient longings. And each prayer includes the same response: Come.

O Wisdom, come. We remember King Solomon asking God to give him wisdom. His wisdom led to an era of peace, the construction of the temple, foreigners coming and paying tribute. And yet, even his wisdom failed him in the end as the kingdom was divided immediately after his death. No, we don’t long for Solomon. We long for someone greater than Solomon. For wisdom personified, the person we meet in the book of Proverbs. For true wisdom.

O Adonai, Lord and Leader of the House of Israel, come. We remember Moses leading God’s people out of Egypt, receiving the law of God on their behalf, and being an intermediary between God and his people when they were afraid. And yet, Moses fell short of the law and was not permitted to enter the promised land. He was only allowed a glimpse of the place he had spent much of his life walking toward. We long for someone greater than Moses. We long for the one who can keep the law, who is holy, who is without sin, who will guide us all the way to the land of promise.

O Root of Jesse, come. We remember the man Jesse, father to the greatest line of kings Israel could imagine. The warrior, David, a man after God’s own heart. Solomon, the peacemaker revered for his wisdom. Hezekiah, who trusted God despite terrible enemies on every side. Josiah, the child king who led the nation to cast aside their idols and worship the one true God. And yet, each of these rulers experienced moments of pride that made them less than perfect leaders. We long for a king who is greater than these. One who will lead with humility and righteousness. We long for a descendent of Jesse who will seek God’s will above all else.

O Key of David, come. We remember David, the greatest of all the kings, who was given the promise of God that he would never cease to have a descendant on the throne. And the keys to the kingdom, granting him the authority to open the doors to whoever he will while shutting out intruders or those who would harm those under his care. And yet, David didn’t always protect his people. He sometimes cared more for his own wishes and comfort than for those he served. We long for a protector greater than David. One with the authority to unlock the chains of sin and death that entrap us and care for his people.

O Radiant Dawn, come. We remember the angel Lucifer, who had the audacity to try to be like God, the morning star who fell from heaven, the imposter who is and will be locked out of God’s kingdom forever. We long for an eternal light, one who is not just like God but who is God, one who will drive out the darkness that has embittered our lives so that we may live without fear of death, entrapment to sin. He is the light of the world, a light that may seem dim, but will grow until all the shadows have been cast out.

O King of Nations, come. We remember all the emperors throughout history who have conquered kingdoms and subjugated them, forcing them to submit to a culture and a home that was not their own, giving them foreign names and worshipping foreign gods. We long for our true home, our true ruler, our true names, and our true God. The king that is above all kings. The one who we have been promised and who knows us as his people and a part of his kingdom. The king who has committed to serve and do what is best for his people.

O Emmanuel, come. And finally, we remember Eden. We remember when God walked among us, visiting the people who he loved every day. We long for a return to Eden, but we long for more than Eden. We long for the day when he has promised to dwell among his people and live with them forever. The day when every tear will be wiped from every eye. When death and sorrow and mourning will be no more. When God will be our God and we will be his people, and no power in heaven or on earth or under the earth can change that. We long for Emmanuel, God with us.

And finally, once we have sung all seven antiphons, we see God’s response. In Latin, if you work from the last title to the first and take the first letter of each of the titles, the letters spell ERO CRAS: Tomorrow, I will come.

Now then, along with all the saints in the final words of Revelation, let us declare together, “Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!”