Waiting. It is a phenomenon that marks almost every activity of our lives and acts as an endless source of frustration. Part of this irritation arises from the feeling that waiting is entirely pointless; it feels contrary to our nature. Why are we standing around wasting time when there is so much to do and so little time?
We generally think of waiting as something passive, the in-between moments of action. But what if that was not the case? What if this waiting had a purpose, one yet unseen?
Christianity has an answer, illustrated in one of the most beloved holidays of all time: Christmas, the celebration of the Incarnation.
We celebrate Christmas as a festive, joyous time of year, filled with lights, music, and quality time with family and friends. Yet, amidst the celebration, people sometimes forget the dark and painful context and history around this beloved holiday.
For four hundred years before the birth of Christ, the Jews suffered tremendously, fighting for independence and autonomy, most notably during the Maccabean revolts. Yet even after all their efforts, they were eventually conquered by a stronger nation, Rome, and the once proud kingdom was relegated to a scorned backwater.
Worst of all, in all that long time, God did not send a single prophet. During four hundred years, Israel experienced one of the most agonizing experiences to face: the silence of God. Essentially, the Jewish people were experiencing the pain of waiting.
With the blessing of hindsight, however, we understand that God had not abandoned His people. In fact, He was preparing history for a great turning point.
In those four hundred years, the Roman Empire had risen to power, bringing with it Pax Romana, the famous Roman Peace. This rise meant that, for the first time in human history, a substantial portion of the world was united with a common language. Thanks to the invention of Roman roads, travel and communication were (relatively) fast and safe, and because of the vast swath of land they had conquered, the Romans were (relatively) religiously tolerant.
Additionally, because of the Jewish diaspora, a number of philosophers, including the Greek thinkers, had encountered the idea of theism, and by the time of the Incarnation, it had become a more acceptable philosophical position. The rise of “mystery cults” within the Roman empire revealed a widespread hunger for a personal savior, with even some emperors, most notoriously Antiochus Epiphanies, taking on the title of “God Manifest’
As it turns out, in those four hundred years, God had not been silent; He was readying the world for the Incarnation. And when the time was right, the silence was broken by the cry of a newborn baby.
And so, every year, Christians remember this time of waiting through liturgies like Advent, in which candles are lit and Messianic prophecies are read to remind us of what the Israelites were waiting for.
From its earliest days, music has been integral to the celebration of Advent, and one of the carols that best embodies the sense of waiting is the hymn “O Come O Come Immanuel,” which developed from the liturgy of O Antiphons sung during Vespers in the week before Christmas. While the music for the hymn is dated to the 15th century, scholars believe that the hymn began to take form as early as the 8th or 9th centuries. Each Antiphon is centered on a title for the Messiah and is drawn from Messianic prophecies in Isaiah, such as Wisdom, Key of David, Morning Star, etc.
Through this hymn, early Christians participated in a spiritual walk through history, the lyrics demonstratingGod’s often unseen but constant faithfulness. It is a reminder that, in the words of the poet James Russel Lowell, “. . . behind the dim unknown, / Standeth God within the shadow, keeping watch above his own.”
The celebration of Advent embodies that reality. The hope of Christmas is that even in the dark moments and the long days, God has not forgotten His people or His promises. In fact, the first letter for each name for Christ within the O Antiphons when read backwards spells out the Latin phrase “ero cras,” meaning, “I will be there tomorrow.” Embedded in the very grammar of the carol’s plea is the assurance that God will indeed be with us.
However, this does not mean that waiting cannot be painful. Before the Incarnation, there were four hundred years of silence where God seemed to have abandoned his people to be oppressed and to suffer. Every Christian has experienced or will experience this kind of waiting: maybe for an answer to a prayer, maybe for a longed-for miracle. Maybe for hope. As the hymn says, we all “mourn in lonely exile here.” For many, Christmas can be a painful experience where experiences of loss, grief, frustration, and disappointment are amplified.
When confronted with the darkness of the world,almost every Christian has wondered, “How long, O Lord?” Theologians call this the “dark night of the soul,” a moment of intense spiritual pain, confusion, and even doubt. The monks during the Antiphons would pray for God to “Disperse the gloomy clouds of night/And death’s dark shadows put to flight.”
However, this is why we celebrate. This is why we need to celebrate. These celebrations not only help us commemorate and rejoice in the occurrence of particular historical realities, but they also remind us that in the moments of waiting, God is working.
This reality does not mean we cannot grieve in the in-between, and it is why “O Come, O Come Immanuel” has endured for over 1,200 years. At its core, it is a hymn of waiting, a declaration of faith in a promise yet to be fulfilled: “Rejoice, rejoice, Immanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.
But we do not grieve as those who do not hope. Part of the Christian life is the recognition that we live in the “already but not yet.” Death and sin have been conquered, but we still suffer under them. You cannot get to Christmas without the years of silence represented by Advent.
So, yes, there will come a time when Jesus returns, and everything sad comes untrue. However, in the meantime, we wait and lift our voices with saints across history in grief, in faith, and in hope:
O come, O come Immanuel.
