O Emmanuel

O Emmanuel, our king and our Lord, The anointed for the nations and their Savior: Come and save us, O Lord our God.

As Christmas Day draws ever closer and we explore this last O Antiphon: Emmanuel – God with us, I am contemplating the one present I think everyone may want. A clue would be that one size fits all and it is quite inexpensive.  That gift is affirmation from those we love and those who love us. What everyone truly wants and needs is recognition of who they are, and to be seen for the good that is inside each of us. The delightful news is that this is the very Gift that God longs to give us.

Like many little boys, our youngest son, Jake had days when he was very difficult to be with – a day at school which did not go well or when he was sick with his frequent sinus problems. Those would be the days when he would be on a rampage, alternately slapping at his brothers then begging to play with them.  The antidote often was to take him on a walk to one of the local nature trails.  He was, and still is, very adept at spotting hidden wildlife and seeing something beautiful in nature.  What Jake desperately needed at those times was for me to recognize his strength. Those were the days when he needed the most love. I would say "so glad I brought along my wonderful Nature Observer.”


What is the talent that God sees in you even on your worst day?  As the O Antiphons conclude today, we can look back at the seven different names given to God in these prayers. But when God looks at you and says “O” with great delight, what praise name do you think God bestows upon you?

O come, O come, Emmanuel,
And ransom captive Israel,
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear.

Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

O Rex Gentium

O King of all the nations, and their desire, the cornerstone uniting all people: Come and save us all, whom you formed out of clay. 

There is a street named Desire in New Orleans - a city that perhaps characterizes the “sad divisions” of urban centers today, made particularly poignant, painful and obvious after Hurricane Katrina. During Christmas 2005, when our son Peter was home from college, we decided to go there to help with the cleanup. We did simple tasks like weeding at a church, mowing lawns, and helping a busy nonprofit put up their Christmas tree.

We had an extra day at the end of the week and asked the volunteer coordinator what else we could do.  She invited us to simply be a visitor in her city and listen to the stories being told. So we signed ourselves up for a city art tour, visited the zoo and finally our journey brought us to the street named – Desire.

But what we remember most of all are the stories that the people told us.  Stories of where they were, all that transpired and how they survived the ‘cornerstones’ of their lives being washed out from under them…and how they have since weathered all that Katrina unleashed upon the city.   It occurred to me, listening to each of their tales, that it was very difficult to feel separation from someone after they shared their story.

We each have our own stories.  And many of us have had to face ‘sad divisions’ in rebuilding what we once thought were cornerstones holding up our lives. So as we near the end of the O Antiphons, perhaps one of the ways to welcome the King of Peace is to sit with someone with whom you feel separated and listen to their story…and they may just listen to yours.

O come, Desire of nations, bind
In one the hearts of all mankind;
Bid Thou our sad divisions cease,
And be Thyself our King of Peace.

Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

O Oriens

O Radiant Dawn, splendor of light everlasting: 

Come and enlighten those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death.

Every year when I pray the O Antiphons I can't help but notice that the Antiphon focuses on the 'splendor of light everlasting' falls on the shortest and darkest day of the year (for those of us in the northern hemisphere). It is a time when the "winter's cold ambush descends on us...Darkness arrives; all is anonymous, the sun has gone and the fading year dies."*

For all of us, the arrival of 'darkness' can take on different meanings.  Just this past weekend Teresa and I were back in her hometown to celebrate her Dad's 89th birthday.  But when the cake came out, although he smiled at all who gathered, he was unaware of what to do with the burning candles. Meanwhile, just the other day, I received a call from my step-mom, repeating the conversation we had the day before, and asking me if she had given birth to any children of her own that she needs to remember this Christmas.  For them, and for so many others, darkness has arrived and much of life is anonymous.

So where is the darkness in your life? How often have you felt 'ambushed'?

But we have reason to 'come and cheer' the spirit of Advent…for the waiting and hoping is near an end.  For while, on this winter equinox, we celebrate that the sun equally illuminates both the northern and southern hemispheres...we hold to the fact that tomorrow will be brighter than today.

This fifth day of the O Antiphons reminds us that Christ is the Light that will 'disperse the gloomy clouds' and put an end to 'death's dark shadows'...the Light that will make the blind see, the deaf hear, the lame walk...the Light that will enfold all of the dark nights of our life.

O come, Thou Day-spring, come and cheer

Our spirits by Thine advent here;

Disperse the gloomy clouds of night,

And death’s dark shadows put to flight.

Rejoice! Rejoice!

Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

* taken from: Sonnet for the Winter Solstice, Robert Rose

O Clavis David

O Key of David and scepter of the house of Israel, You open and no one can close, You close and no one can open: Come and rescue the prisoners who are in darkness and in the shadow of death.

In my journaling each morning a familiar specter shows up nearly every day.  Like the terrifying faceless ghost of Christmas Future in the Dicken’s classic story, my Inner Critic makes an appearance.  Before 7 a.m. she is judge, jury and jailer – sometimes of people in my life but most often and most reliably of myself. 

This Antiphon reminds me today that the only way to silence this harsh voice is to place my life in the hands of the One who decides ‘what to open and what to close,’  the hands of my God who is longing to release me from my own prison of darkness by forgiveness and mercy.

Sometimes I beat up myself over a task left undone, a misstep, or an unkind word.  And you? What holds you in darkness waiting to be released?  What sits in your shadows hoping to be expunged by the Light?  Less we forget: the Key is mercy.

It Pope Francis who reminds us, “The Lord never gets tired of forgiving us, it is we who get tired of asking for forgiveness.” Or perhaps more simply in the words of Tiny Tim, “God Bless us everyone” And that includes you and me.

  

O come, Thou Key of David, come,
And open wide our heavenly home;
Make safe the way that leads on high,
And close the path to misery.

Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

 

O Rex Jesse

O Root of Jesse, who stands for an ensign before the people, before whom kings are mute and to whom the gentiles shall seek: Come quickly to deliver us.

It was some years ago, on one of his visits to my home that my father walked in the door and in his usual gruff way said, "Here, the creek gave her to me. You can have her." And abruptly he handed me a small sapling he brought from the home where I grew up in Pennsylvania. Since then it has grown into a flourishing dogwood that graces our backyard with flowers in the spring and orangey fall color.

I am not alone as a recipient of my father's trees. My sister has a cherry tree that yields enough for pies and jam every year and another sister has grape vines that yield an abundance of fruit. My father's gait is now slow and unsteady which prevents him from walking along that creek among his beloved trees and the quality of his memory matches the morning fog that often collects in the valley.  But my father's life and lineage is deeply rooted in our home - exhibited in my children and memorialized in that gifted tree I see outside my window.

Today's O Antiphon reminds us that the lineage of Jesus comes from the root of Jesse. I wonder what characteristics he inherited. What gestures? How about his eyes, his hair color and his manner of speaking?  But even more so, God created all of us in God's image.  So what has God passed on to you?  What traits?  What characteristics? Do you spend more time making God to be in your image, versus recognizing the God who has crafted you, planted you, nurtured you and loves you?

The orange leaves have fallen off the dogwood in my backyard but its deep roots will nurture it through the winter. Where are your roots firmly planted?

 O come, Thou Root of Jesse’s tree,
An ensign of Thy people be;
Before Thee rulers silent fall;
All peoples on Thy mercy call.

Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

O Adonai

O sacred Lord of ancient Israel, who appeared to Moses in the fire of the burning bush and gave him the law on Sinai Mountain; Come, stretch out your mighty hand to set us free.

Today we invoke the primordial praise name of Adonai - the plural of Adon which is used in order to indicate the total fullness of divine sway and pointing to God as the Lord of lords. 

Fifteenth century usage of 'lord' and 'laird' seem to come from the same derivative as the one who was the ‘keeper of the loaves,’ someone who was responsible for the care and protection of his people.

Likewise, today's Antiphon points to a God who sets us free through a covenantal relationship (appearing to Moses) but also one who gave the laws (given on Sinai). 

The challenge we face is that we spend so much time with the image of the angry God who doles out the laws and subsequent retribution, we focus all our energies on trying to ‘please’ God by always doing it right.  But in actuality, it is when we do it wrong that we come face to face with the ever merciful God who desires to be in relationship with all of us.  Matter of fact that desire is so deep, God became incarnate to walk with us...to show us what it means to be human and to be in relationship with each other and God. 

So on this second day of the O Antiphons we remember the name: Adonai - the Lord, who deeply desires to be in our lives. Can you feel that presence today?    

 O come, O come, great Lord of might,

Who to Thy tribes on Sinai’s height

In ancient times once gave the law

In cloud and majesty and awe.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

O Sapienta

O Wisdom, O holy Word of God, you govern all creation with your strong, yet tender care. Come and show your people the way to salvation.

Today we begin the O Antiphons, or what may be called the ‘primordial praise names’¹ for Christ that herald the last days before Christmas.  We begin by invoking the name ‘Wisdom’ – a wisdom “who orders all things mightily, giving us the path of knowledge, and guiding creation with power and love.”

Nature’s order is perhaps best found in the reoccurrence of the Fibonacci number.  You see this in a spiraling seashell or the unfurling of a new leaf.  This numbering sequence is often called ‘God’s fingerprint’ for occurs everywhere and is applicable to the growth of every living thing – from a grain a wheat, to our own DNA.

As captivating as these incredible sequences are to ponder mathematically, what is striking is the ethereal beauty of the pine cone or whirled flower.  That is the space where I gasp “O” and stand in awe at the handiwork of God in beauty, function, order…of how God's dwelling place is right here, right now, among you and me. Emmanuel!

O come, Thou Wisdom from on high,
Who orderest all things mightily;
To us the path of knowledge show,
And teach us in her ways to go.

Rejoice! Rejoice!

Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

¹Tessa Bielecki   Season of Glad Songs

Siri and Advent

Every so often I am blessed to have my wife, Teresa, give me some of her writings for my blog.  Recently she has been expanding her use of Siri on her new IPhone and shared with me the following:

Recently I discovered the microphone feature on my IPhone and realized that Siri can schedule appointments, find addresses and help you send a text message. However, she does not recognize the word “Advent”!  I was dictating Siri an email to a friend and ending it with the greeting “Advent Blessings” but instead what I got back was many different versions of those words including “add vent,” “and in,” and “and then.”       The one that really made me pause was “and thin.” Advent is indeed one of the "thin" places of our spiritual lives. Places where we encounter God, perhaps in great sorrow or maybe in one those wild wonderful places in Ireland where there is no barrier between you and God. Places where the veil becomes transparent. Our own interior wild landscapes during Advent can be the memories of those that have left us, the growing darkness of winter, or of the quiet comfort of Advent music. In that moment when I realized that Siri did not understand the nuances of Advent waiting, I smiled, put on a quiet Christmas CD and asked Siri to set my timer for 20 minutes and quietly spent some time with God in the dark womb of Advent.

So as we near the end of Advent time join Teresa and me over the next seven days as we blog the O Antiphons! The origin of these short prayers are unknown but appear in writings dating back to the 5th century. By the 8th and 9th centuries they were being chanted by monks in Rome. All seven prayers follow a unique literary structure. All begin with an invocation of the expected Messiah followed by praise using a particular title. All end with a plea to "Come" followed by a petition tying back to that particular title. 

You may know these prayers as the root lyrics to O Come, O Come Emmanuel, a favorite carol this time of year.  So join us on a week long journey of short meditations that may just bring you a contemporary perspective to these ancient prayers…and some quiet space to spend time in the dark womb of Advent. 

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O Emmanuel

O Emmanuel, our king and our Lord, The anointed for the nations and their Savior: Come and save us, O Lord our God.

With the O Antiphons concluding today, those playful 8^th century Christian monks added a twist to the prayers by having the first letters of the Latin words spell out (in reverse order) the acrostic ero cras, which translates: "tomorrow I will be," thus heralding the birth of the one who is to be called Jesus.

"Behold a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and his name shall be called Emmanuel." (Isa 7:14)

Emmanuel: God with Us. Jesus the Christ is present, here and now, dwelling within us, always present to us.  Thus the greatest present you have and the one that you can give time and time again – is the presence of the God who dwells within you, the God who loves you, the God who is Emmanuel.

 

O come, O come, Emmanuel,
And ransom captive Israel,
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear.

Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

 

O Rex Gentium

O King of all the nations, and their desire, the cornerstone uniting all people: Come and save us all, whom you formed out of clay.

 

"The Stone that the builders rejected has become the chief cornerstone"  Psalm 118:22

That line is cited six times in the New Testament... so what is it saying to us?

Today when we hear 'cornerstone' we think of that date inscribed stone which is ceremonially laid at the completion of the building project.  But historically the cornerstone was just the opposite.  It was the first major stone laid that determined the position of the entire building.  Placed incorrectly and the structure would fall.

As we near the end of the O Antiphons we are reminded that Christ is the cornerstone upon which all creation is saved.  All things God has made from the clay of the earth: Jew/gentile; black/white; rich/poor; gay/straight - all creation, without exception is saved.

What remains?  Take a moment and look at which stone you have selected to be your cornerstone.  Do you have any corrective masonry work that needs to be done?

O come, Desire of nations, bind
In one the hearts of all mankind;
Bid Thou our sad divisions cease,
And be Thyself our King of Peace.

Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

 

O Oriens

O Radiant Dawn, splendor of light everlasting: Come and enlighten those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death.

 

For those of us in the northern hemisphere today marks the shortest and darkest day of the year.  And as the funerals continue to take place in Newtown/Sandy Hook this week so many in that community sit in darkness and the shadow of death...waiting for light to reenter their lives.

The first sign of light is called twilight  - a liminal time of hope as the sky brightens, while we wait for the star to rise above the horizon.  Advent is a season of waiting and hoping for a new light, a renewed energy, to break into our darkness.

On this fifth day of the O Antiphons we are reminded that it is the light of Christ that will illuminate our truest self....a light that will wipe out our darkness...a light that will warm our being.

 

O come, Thou Day-spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here;
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night,
And death’s dark shadows put to flight.

Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

 

O Clavis David

O Key of David and scepter of the house of Israel, You open and no one can close, You close and no one can open: Come and rescue the prisoners who are in darkness and in the shadow of death.
 

The first shoot from the tree of Jesse is his son, David.  The prophet Samuel passes over the seven oldest sons of Jesse in his search for a new king.  Jesse then pulls forward his youngest son - the shepherd boy, the least of the brothers.  And this is whom Samuel anoints as the new king.

God seems to always choosing and using the 'least' to open new doors that need to be opened and to close doors that need to be closed.  God calls each of us to do God's work...but the first step forward needs to come from us. 

 

Each of us already holds the 'key of David' in order to be God's presence in the world...a presence that is so greatly needed.  So on this fourth day of the O Antiphons, what is preventing you from turning the key and opening yourself up?

  

O come, Thou Key of David, come,
And open wide our heavenly home;
Make safe the way that leads on high,
And close the path to misery.

Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

 

 

O Rex Jesse

O Root of Jesse, who stands for an ensign before the people, before whom kings are mute and to whom the gentiles shall seek: Come quickly to deliver us.

With the passing of Superstorm Sandy last month we found that many trees that we thought were well rooted, were unable to take on the winds of the storm and they fell.  And yet there were many trees no one thought would survive which still stand.

Life is like that.  We make decisions each day as to what and where we want to take root.  Some spend more time pruning their branches to look perfect, while paying no attention to where they are rooted.

Where have you planted yourself and your family?  How fertile is your soil?  Something to think about on this third day of the O Antiphons.  

 O come, Thou Root of Jesse’s tree,
An ensign of Thy people be;
Before Thee rulers silent fall;
All peoples on Thy mercy call.

Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

O Adonai

O sacred Lord of ancient Israel, who appeared to Moses in the fire of the burning bush and gave him the law on Sinai Mountain; Come, stretch out your mighty hand to set us free.

 Moses – a shepherd and a murderer, comes face to face with a bush that is burning, but not consumed by the flames. The bush, most likely a thorn bush of some sort, is the least of all the plants and tress of the desert.  Sometimes we can forget that no place is ever void of the presence of God.  Not a thorn bush, not Syria, not Sandy Hook Elementary, not even you or I.

 
God will often come to us in our lives as some sort of “burning bush” in order to flame away who we think we are so that we can serve God and serve others by who we really are. And in doing so, God sets us free.

So on this second day of the O Antiphons, can you feel the heat?

 

O come, O come, great Lord of might,
Who to Thy tribes on Sinai’s height
In ancient times once gave the law
In cloud and majesty and awe.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

 

O Sapienta

 

O Wisdom, O holy Word of God, you govern all creation with your strong, yet tender care. Come and show your people the way to salvation.

 

The O Antiphons begin with God's wisdom in showing us the way to salvation. And it seems that the easiest way to have done this was for God to come to us, incarnate as Jesus the Christ.

 

"And the Word became Flesh and dwelt among us" Jn 1:14

 

Perhaps the reason was that we were overly consumed with asking the wrong question...and still are. Namely: How do I get to heaven? Or in other words: How do I earn salvation?

 

But I think we have it all backwards.

We think we are human, learning to become divine and actually it is just the opposite.

We think eternal life starts when we die, but actually it begins now.

We think of a “Santa Claus God” who is checking the list to see who is naughty and nice in order to determine who is worthy of heaven, yet God loves and accepts all.

We think that salvation can actually be earned! When actually it is all a gift.

 

We need to stop focusing on what we need to do for salvation, what we need to do "to get" to heaven and instead bring heaven to Earth, right now.

"...thy will be done on Earth as it is in heaven"

 

God's dwelling place is right here, right now, among the people. Emmanuel!

 

O come, Thou Wisdom from on high,
Who orderest all things mightily;
To us the path of knowledge show,
And teach us in her ways to go.

 

Rejoice! Rejoice!

Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.