“O Come, O Come, Emmanuel!”

To all who await God’s visitation,

We’re here once more crossing the threshold into Advent—the season of longing, waiting, and watching for signs of God’s presence among us.  It’s a favorite season in our household for a number of reasons; special sights, sounds, and smells, the candle ritual with devotions at the dinner table, and the built in countdown to Christmas, to name a few. This year a new marker was added—the Advent Service of Lessons and Carols hosted by St. Mark’s Cathedral.

We arrived with our friend early enough to procure front row seats for the packed service and we were not disappointed. Attending a worship service with my family where someone else is in charge is always special. We had many opportunities to do so during my sabbatical and the experience at St. Mark’s on November 29th reminded me of this. As the choir intoned the first notes of the liturgy, their voices rising with incense to envelop the cavernous space, I felt emotion rise within me. I was being transported to St. Paul’s Cathedral in London, where we had found refuge one sodden afternoon, arriving in time for the 5pm Eucharist.  Many times throughout our travels we found it was liturgies such as this—and evensong in particular—that anchored us, providing us with the sense that by touching the Sacred we were touching Home. Now that feeling, too rich and subtle for words, came over me once more.

The core of St. Mark’s Advent Service was built upon the O Antiphons, those ancient stanzas by which the church has invoked the Divine Presence for centuries in the weeks leading up to the Feast of the Incarnation.  Each of the seven stanzas addresses the Messiah by one of his titles; each praises the coming of the Savior by a different name:

O Wisdom, you came forth from the mouth of the Most High, and reach from one end of the Earth to the other,

mightily and sweetly ordering all things: Come teach us the way of prudence!

O Adonai, ruler of the house of Israel, you appeared to Moses in the fire of the burning bush,

on Mount Sinai you gave him your law: with outstretched arm, come and redeem us!

O Root of Jesse, you stand as an ensign to the people; before you kings shall keep silence,

all nations bow in worship: Come and save us , and do not delay!

O Key of David, and scepter of the house of Israel; you open and no one closes; you close and no one opens:

come and deliver us from the chains of prison, we who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death!

O Rising Dawn, brightness of the light eternal, sun of righteousness:

come and enlighten those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death!

O King of Nations, and their desire, you are the cornerstone that binds two into one:

come and save the creature whom you have fashioned from clay!

O Emmanuel, our King and Lawgiver, the Desire of all nations and their Salvation:

come and save us, O Lord our God!

These antiphons date back at least to the reign of Charlemagne (771-814), and one source suggests they were in use in some form as early as the 6th century.  Through the wondrous and complex choral setting written by Peter Hallock and beautifully executed by the choirs of St. Marks, the Antiphons soared, carrying our spirits with them.

These antiphons of Advent remind me where I need to keep my attention focused this season.  The health, healing, safety, and wholeness I seek—the Bible’s word is salvation—cannot be ordered from Amazon or procured from any source but God alone.  The wonder of the season is that, when it finally does come, it’s in a form that neither I nor the world can recognize by the packaging.  Yet, it—or rather he— still comes, as a babe in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.

Homeless families seek shelter where they can remain together; communities of color struggle for equal treatment under the law; refugees long for new places to call home; world leaders discuss scenarios for limiting climate breakdown; another enraged shooter claims the lives of innocent victims.  This is the world we live in; a world where shattered lives raise their voices in hope of deliverance.  We need a Savior!  The miracle of Christmas is that he is already “God with us.”  God grant us the eyes to recognize Emmanuel and the hearts to embrace him however, whenever, and wherever he comes among us.

Living in hope,

Pastor Erik