Troll the Ancient Yuletide Carol – 2020

Most years around this time, I’ve shared some thoughts about the words to some of my favorite Christmas carols – which is to say, some of my favorite things in this world. (Click here to see posts from 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, and 2018.) I thought of devoting this whole post to my strong preference this year for versions of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” that use the line “Until then, we'll have to muddle through somehow.” But why focus on muddling at this blessed time? Instead I’ll just say a few words about the O antiphons.

These seven advent antiphons seem to have been around since the time of Boethius. Perhaps from that time, but certainly starting as early as the Middle Ages, they were used to introduce the singing of the Magnificat. (All antiphons were used as introductions, endings, and even interpolations for biblical songs: primarily the psalms, but also for the canticles such as Mary’s song, the “Nunc Dimittis” of Simeon, and so on. They worked much as do the new choruses inserted into old hymns by worship composers of our time.) The seven O antiphons all begin with the word “O” as a marker of address, and are directed to Jesus, Who is called by seven names drawn from various portions of the Bible. Here are the texts:

O Wisdom, coming forth from the mouth of the Most High,
reaching from one end to the other,
mightily and sweetly ordering all things:
Come and teach us the way of prudence.

O Adonai, and leader of the House of Israel,
who appeared to Moses in the fire of the burning bush
and gave him the law on Sinai:
Come and redeem us with an outstretched arm.

O Root of Jesse, standing as a sign among the peoples;
before Thee kings will shut their mouths,
to Thee the nations will make their prayer:
Come and deliver us, and delay no longer.

O Key of David and sceptre of the House of Israel;
Thou openest and no one can shut;
Thou shuttest and no one can open:
Come and lead the prisoners from the prison house,
those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death.

O Morning Star,
splendour of light eternal and sun of righteousness:
Come and enlighten those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death.

O King of the nations, and their desire,
the cornerstone making both one:
Come and save the human race,
which Thou didst fashion from clay.

O Emmanuel, our king and our lawgiver,
the hope of the nations and their Saviour:
Come and save us, O Lord our God.

I’m struck this year especially by the multiple layers of meaning in so many of them – multiple meanings of the texts themselves as well as of objects depicted in the texts. In the first antiphon, traditionally sung on December 17, we recognize wisdom as the Word of God, as the order in all created things, as our teacher, and as the prudence that we can fit into our little human heads. A common casual prayer says, “From your lips to God’s ears.” This antiphon prays that what comes from God’s lips will enter our ears.

In “O Adonai,” for December 18, we acknowledge that only the One Who gives the law that convicts us of sin can redeem us from that very sin. The Root of Jesse, addressed on December 19, stands as a sign, but of what? It seems the sign means different things to different readers. It makes some shut their mouths, while it opens the mouths of others. The Key of David shows its multivalence clearly: a key both opens and shuts. But the main prayer for December 20 is for opening, because who prays to be put into prison?

Now on December 21, the darkness of the prisoners is again mentioned. So are we praying here for the ones who have not yet escaped the prison house? Or do the souls who have left prison still dwell in darkness? Yes and yes. And they need both the sun and the morning star.

On December 22, we sing to the “cornerstone making both one.” Hmm. Both what? A cornerstone marks the place where two straight lines join to determine a two-dimensional space. Perhaps God as King of the nations and God as desire of the nations represent two dimensions: truth and mercy have kissed. In any case, we who are made one out of two elements – clay and the spirit that needs saving – desire that King.

Finally, on December 23, we ask Emmanuel – “God with us” – to come to us. If God is with us already, why do we ask Him to come? Because Christ is the true light that perpetually comes into the world. We can never be done welcoming Him.

When Augustus called for his census, everyone apparently had to travel to the traditional city of their ancestors. That requirement explains why there was no room at the inn for Joseph and Mary. All the descendants of David had descended at once on tiny Bethlehem: a whole town full of frustrated heirs to the throne of Israel. So while all the folk who thought they were hot stuff slept snugly in their clean beds, the holy parents went to the barn and laid their new son in the feeding trough for the donkeys. Be a manger. Ask Emmanuel to come to you.