O COME, O COME EMMANUEL
Rev. Karen Pidcock-Lester
First Presbyterian Church, Pottstown, Pa.
Advent I 2007
Introduction
Ever since the angels sang in the heavens on the holy night of Christ’s birth, the news of the mystery of Christ’s coming has been interpreted and proclaimed in song. During this season of Advent, Carter and I will consider several carols help illumine the scripture texts of the season.
Today, let us begin the season of preparation with the carol “O Come, O Come Emmanuel.” I invite you to close your eyes and listen, certainly to notes and words, but also to what is expressed.
(Play “O Come, O Come Emmanuel”, verse 1 and 2) )
The song is haunting.
For 900 years, this song has been expressing a profound yearning.
It first floated around the cold, bare, stark chapels of medieval abbeys, as the voices of monks and nuns poured out their longing for God to ‘ransom captive Israel.” And through the centuries, longing people have sung not just our familiar three verses, but 7 verses, bidding the Lord to come. They used different names for the One they waited for, Dayspring, Desire of Nations, Root of Jesse, Key of David –each name expressed something of what they yearned for:
‘disperse the gloomy clouds of night’
‘bid envy, strife
and discord cease’
‘free us from Satan’s tyranny’
900 years ago, their lives were full of sorrow, fear and discord too. They longed for so much.
But the longing was older than they were.
It was ancient.
1600 years before men and women sang this hymn, the prophet Isaiah spoke to Israel’s longing, and the longing was the same: for swords to be beaten into ploughshares, for nations to not lift up sword against nation…they wanted the human race to do things differently, they wanted a world where dark and deadly forces were not working against God’s purposes, where people did not suffer, they wanted a world where their children were not drawn away from God by the things around them, and where adults did not covet or fight, lie or steal, but were kind, gracious, holy, pure, happy…Israel wanted everyone to walk in the light of the Lord, including themselves.
2700 years after Israel, we still have the ancient longing.
Sometimes it is just an undercurrent in the flow of our lives, deep below the surface … background music to a life that bumps along merrily, and most of the time we can ignore it.
But sometimes the yearning overwhelms us and brings us to our knees.
Like the woman in this picture by Frank Bramley. It is titled “Hopeless Dawn.”
It was painted in 1888. Take a look.
A young woman has sunk to the floor, overcome by something that is not right.
Her head is buried in her arm, the older woman holds her in a pieta of suffering.
The two have been like this for a long time. All through the night. The candle on the table is burned low, the bread uneaten. The young woman is done in. There is no warmth, no color in the scene. Beyond the window there is a cold, gray dreary light. Except for the title, we would not be able to tell if this was a scene at dawn or twilight. It doesn’t matter. Nothing is expected.
The girl is hopeless.
Though you and I may not share her condition at the moment, we understand it, for, if truth be told, we all of us, in broad daylight or in the terror of the night,
either in body or in our soul,
have sunk to the floor, done in, unable to get up and face the next day.
We recognize this hopeless dawn.
But what if…
What if, into this scene came…a promise?
What if, into this condition or situation came a promise of someone who would help and save?
What if some word came to her, “It will not always be like this.
Right now, there is suffering. But there is something ahead. You are like a woman in labor, groaning, to be sure… but oh! something good is coming into being. You will be set free. I promise.”
What would this scene look like with such a word?
Let us imagine.
Instead of being bowed, would the girl’s head not be lifted up?
Her eyes might still tearful, for sorrow and trouble would still be with her.
But there would be a light in the eyes. And they would be expectant…
“Really?” she might appear to be saying, her eyebrows raised…
With a promise, there would be hope.
And that would make it a different scene altogether.
Hope.
Abraham Lincoln said “The power of hope upon human exertion and happiness is wonderful.” (Living Pulpit, January – March 1992, p. 26)
Soldiers know that. Poor people know that. Prisoners know that. Sick people know the power of hope is wonderful.
“Life without hope,” said Vaclav Havel, the Czech playwright become president, “is an empty, boring and useless life. I cannot imagine that I could strive for something if I did not carry hope in me. I am thankful to God for this gift. It is as big a gift as life itself.” (Living Pulpit, January- March 1992, p. 26)
Paul says, “We are saved by hope.”
The hope that saves us is not faith in human potential or ability. Human potential is indeed great, and human exertion, as Lincoln called it, is essential for anything to be achieved. We cannot take the easy way. But it is not hope in human potential that will save us – not hope in a new political candidate, however exciting he might be; nor hope for victory in war, however that is defined; nor hope for universal environmental agreements, however critical they may be; nor hope for breakthroughs in medical research – however stunning they may be! It is not hope in the perfect job or better income or more time that will save us, and answer this ancient longing.
The hope that saves us is faith “not in human potential but in God’s omnipotence.” (adapted, Carlos Carreto, The Desert in the City, quoted in Living Pulpit, Jan-Mar, p.29) God, and God’s hope, is the ground of our own hope because God has the power to accomplish all God desires.
Because God hopes that envy strife and discord will cease, we can too.
Because God hopes to give all people victory over the grave, we can too.
Because God hopes that all gloomy clouds of night will disappear, and His people will be full of joy, we can hope too.
God has promised, “all creation shall be set free. The sufferings of the present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed…I am coming to help and save.”
It is that promise that makes the world, and our personal lives, a different scene altogether. Now, we are like the people in this banner – reaching for the light because there is a light to reach for.
“Christ has opened a new hope for the human race…it is a hope not limited or nullified by death. …[it is a] supernatural hope, [because] it looks for possibilities beyond … our everyday ‘natural’ existence.” (John Macquarrie, The Christian Hope, Seabury Press, 1978.)
If there were no Christ, there would be no savior from beyond our sphere to look for, there would be no Desire of Nations to expect to bind people together,
there would be no dawn from on high to break in upon life’s dark places giving cheer amidst the gloom…
If there were no Christ, our hope would be bounded by human possibilities,
we would be consigned to a hopeless dawn.
But…there is Christ.
And because there is, life has become a different scene.
Friends,
If you find yourself, or someone you love, in this scene before us,
with head bowed, buried in sorrow or shame, cynicism or despair
because of news you have received,
or sins you cannot undo,
or a loss you are facing,
or circumstances or responsibilities that are too heavy to bear,
or because you have heard one too many of the world’s tragic tales
if you are weary, soul-withered,
listen for the Word that comes from beyond your present scene
saying to you “It will not always be like this. One is coming who will help and save…”
Listen, and lift up your head!!
“Really?” you might ask…
“Really.” comes the Word, “It is already happening. Even now he is taking your suffering and redeeming it. It shall become the labor pains of something new …Your long, dark night will have an end. There is no day that will dawn without hope.
I promise.”
Rejoice, rejoice, Emmanuel shall come to Thee, O Israel.