December 18, 2024 // Perspective

‘O Come, O Come Emmanuel’

Ken Hallenius

Whatever astrophysicists might theorize about how time slows as one approaches the edge of a black hole, the clock runs ever forward, 60 minutes every hour, day after day. And for me, the past few weeks have been a whirlwind of nonstop activity. Five days away from home for a work project, a busy (and delicious) Thanksgiving Day with friends, cleaning and decorating the house for Advent and Christmas, wrapping gifts to send to family and friends from sea to shining sea.

It has been a constant rush that, frankly, has left me a bit frazzled. Fortunately, a bit of respite is in sight, as Christmas and its attendant break are on the horizon. It looks to be easy living around Chez Hallenius for a full week, dogs curled up at my feet, hot cocoa in my mug, and a couple of good books in my hand.

Between now and then, these final few days of Advent feature some of my favorite days of prayer in preparation for the Nativity of Our Lord. At the Liturgy of the Hours each evening from December 17 to 23, we pray the so-called O Antiphons, which are familiar to most of us in the beloved song “O Come, O Come Emmanuel.”

These antiphons recall Old Testament titles referencing the long-awaited Savior: wisdom of God, leader of the House of Israel, root of Jesse, key of David, radiant dawn, king of all nations, Emmanuel (God with us). And although we don’t know who originally wrote these prayers, we can tell that he had a sense of humor, as there is a fun (if nerdy) play on words worked into the text. In its original Latin, the initial letter of each of these antiphons spell out the phrase “Ero Cras,” which means, “Tomorrow, I will come.” It’s a subtle reminder that good things come to those who wait with great anticipation.

There is another delightful text that the Church offers for our reflection on Christmas Eve, the “Christmas Proclamation.” In some parishes, this proclamation is read before the Midnight Mass begins, though it is not strictly a liturgical text. It is a poetic reminder of how our Savior was born as a real person at a specific time in human history: “The 25th day of December, when ages beyond number had run their course from the creation of the world”; 21 centuries after God had called Abraham to be the father of His Chosen People; 13 centuries after Moses led God’s people out of slavery in Egypt; 1,000 years after the reign of King David; 752 years after the foundation of the city of Rome; “in the 42nd year of the reign of Caesar Octavian Augustus, the whole world being at peace, Jesus Christ, eternal God and Son of the eternal Father, desiring to consecrate the world by His most loving presence, was conceived by the Holy Spirit, and when nine months had passed since His conception, was born of the Virgin Mary in Bethlehem of Judah, and was made man.”

The Christmas Proclamation reminds us that God, who Himself exists outside of time, intervened in our time-bound world to prepare everything for the incarnation of His beloved Son Jesus Christ, whose life, death, and resurrection both fulfilled the old covenant with His Chosen People and inaugurated a new and everlasting covenant that He extends to all peoples through baptism, confirmation, and the holy Eucharist. This world-shattering event happened at a specific time and place, and everything has been different ever since. Even our calendar is keyed to recall this fact: We are in the year of Our Lord 2024 for just a few days more, when we’ll ring in the year of Our Lord 2025.

Like the Israelites who awaited the coming of their Messiah in the time of Caesar Augustus, we also await His coming. But this time, it will be His return “in glory, to judge the living and the dead,” as we profess in the creed. In an Advent homily, St. Bernard of Clairvaux, the 12th-century Cistercian abbot and Doctor of the Church, spoke of “the three comings of Christ,” saying that “in the first coming, He was seen on earth, dwelling among men; He Himself testifies that they saw Him and hated Him. In the final coming, all flesh will see the salvation of our God, and they will look on Him whom they pierced.”

St. Bernard goes on to explain that the intermediate coming of Christ, the one between Bethlehem and the end of time, is taking place even now in the People of God, in the hearts of we who are incorporated into the Body of Christ through baptism. Through the power of the Holy Spirit, we have been transformed, and our hearts have become a dwelling place for the Most High. We are given the grace to act as Christ’s hands and feet to share the gifts of mercy, charity, and hope with a world that so desperately needs them. St. Bernard calls this the “hidden coming of Christ,” as it happens in the humility of daily life, not accompanied by the heavenly host of angels singing to the shepherds as at His first coming during the time of Caesar Augustus, nor with the trumpet blast that gathers all the nations before His throne, as will happen at the end of time.

In these final days before Christmas, let us prepare our hearts for all three comings of Our Lord Jesus Christ. May the long-awaited Savior of the world, born at a real time and place in that humble stable in Bethlehem, come even now into our hearts, and may He tarry no longer as we await His joyful return in glory.