“Yet the Lover demands love as a heart’s tithe — the hardest riches to mine.”
It is the real story without time.
It sweeps forever across the universe as a triumphal march of Glory. The galaxies holdfast at the command of the story’s Teller. It splendors in the Creation, a magnificent sunset, or a mighty storm at night for thirsty earth. It twinkles in the smile of a child and laughs in the heart of wise men and women. It condemns the haughty and rebukes the unjust yet waits patiently for them.
The story always remains, always expecting the changed heart.
The story is the sweep of all history in the snap of a twig, slipping like a sparrow easily from branch to branch. Time in the story is an unknowable contradiction because the story holds all time like a child does a marble, not as an integral something – but as a mere thing.
The story is about Love.
It’s about a Love that the Creation can only give, not demand. It’s a profound, singular Love that spreads as does the universe itself – forever without bounds, stations, or by-ways. It goes to-and-fro and Loves. It is not a smothering Love but the gentlest kiss, a light touch, or a sweet taste an eternity beyond the five senses. It is complete Reality itself. It is the Love of life itself. It’s a Love so rich that all the gemstones and gold of the earth would amount not even to a single grain of sand on Love’s never-ending beach.
Yet the Lover demands love as a heart’s tithe — the hardest riches to mine.
But, the scientists always want to know where the story, this Love, comes from? The truth is that knowing that secret would be to know the Lover in an impossible intimacy. Great philosophers, intellectuals, and sophisticated thinkers churn the story to skim off the butter of doubt, only to be confounded when the story never fades away, stops, or dies. They think their story and ways better – Love is a waste they come to hate because they don’t know it. They always plot its death.
The story sighs at their pretension. The story knows forever. Always.
Ancient people seemed to know. Some of their music and hymns of awe to the Lover reflected the mystery that there was an eternal fountain of hope that would wipe away the tears of living in a fallen world one day.
One such hymn had its roots in the eighth-century church when O Antiphons were first used for singing psalms or chants leading through Advent to Christmas.
I’m partial to O Come, O Come Emmanuel for this. It carries a sense of wonder – and a lament of deep yearning and unsatisfied thirst for God to come to his people. All people.
At first, it only had five O Antiphons. “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel,” followed by “O come thou rod of Jesse,” “O Come, Thou Dayspring, From on High,” O Come, Thou Key of David, Come,” and “O Come Adonai, Lord of Might.”
Somewhere along the road, two additional O Antiphons were adopted into this clan. “O Come Thou Wisdom From on High,” and “O Come, Desire of Nations, Bind.”
Later, the song was published in Germany and England, using some or all of the verses and sometimes paired with different tunes. But the modern melody goes back to at least the 15th century.
Emmanuel, of course, means “God with us.” So the chant starts with the haunting pleading, “O Come!, O Come” For the ancient Jews, who had suffered exile and defeat, the coming of Messiah – the “Anointed One,” would be a liberator – their only hope. But the chant reveals the Anointed One as the Son of God. The world’s hope. It was a rescue misson for all people of all time.
Next, the chant looks for the “Rod of Jesse” to free us from Satan’s tyranny and give us victory over the grave. This is a reference to Isaiah 11:1-2 and its prophecy that from the “stem” of Jesse, a branch will grow that will be the awaited Messiah. Next is the Dayspring, the coming of Light into the world, and dispersing deaths shadow.
Each Antiphon gives us a word picture of the coming King and builds a longing for His mercy and Love. In the end, it calls the Risen King Jesus, the Desire of Nations, that in binding around this Anointed One, there would be heaven’s peace.
In its lament, these ancient words go through the story as given to us. It is the only story that answers the great questions of life. Why are we here? Where and how do we know love? Are we significant? Are we part of the story? It is an old lament worthy of a moment’s reflection this Christmastide.
O Come, O Come Emmanuel! O Come!
In my opinion, the Piano Guys have best captured the plaintive passion of pleading and longing of this ancient chant and music in their instrumental rendition. You can listen to it here.]
[Note: Readers will see many variations of the lyrics of this song from the original version. Most modern versions have used O Come Thou Bright and Morning Star to replace “Adonai” as an example. Other modern lyrics have fiddled with different wording as well. MG]
