Sermon: "O Come, O Come Emmanuel"

1st in the "Forgotten Verses of Famous Carols" series.
Delivered November 29, 2009 by Rev. George Antonakos.
Sermon Text: Psalm 137

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Well we can see and smell even the sights and sounds of a new time of year. We have begun a new worship emphasis today. We've crossed a threshold of a new church year. I don't know how many of you think about the church year yourself. We're not high liturgy around here, but today is the first day of the new church year.

Maybe you can relate to it if you think about people who live by a sports year. Some of you live by a sports year. Probably you... I'm going to do it quickly. How many of you know the Ravens' schedule... you know how many weeks there are in the Ravens' schedule? Okay. You know their record right now. Record? You know how many weeks are left, right? Do you know when the Super Bowl is? You know when the Super Bowl is. Okay. Here is one everybody should raise their hand on. What month does March Madness start? March... good. Although some are saying, "What's March Madness?"

Some people live by the sport's year. I know there are guys who get depressed like somewhere between football season and baseball season because there is nothing going on, you know. Some people live their lives by the fluctuation of the financial markets. Some people live their lives by the birthdays on the calendar of their family members.

Well the church is called to live its life based on the life of Jesus and critical historical moments in the life of the Church. That's why we are in Advent. We just were beginning Advent... four weeks leading up to Christmas. Then Christmas is about 12 days... the 12 days of Christmas. Then there is the Epiphany, the appearing of Jesus. Then there is Ash Wednesday, which marks the beginning of Lent and His suffering and to Holy Week and Maundy Thursday and Holy Saturday and then of course, Easter Sunday... Good Friday and Easter Sunday.

Then there is Ascension Day. We don't even think about Ascension Day a lot, but that's when Jesus ascended into heaven allowing the Holy Spirit to come, and so we think of Pentecost and the coming of the Spirit. There are like six weeks of Pentecost season. Then some... what we call ordinary time and then Christ the King Sunday, which was last Sunday.

Advent is to the Church year what spring training is to baseball. It's a time of readying one's self for the season. It's a time of getting prepared and getting primed for something that's coming. That's what Advent even means... to come, or coming. It speaks of all the promises of God's Messiah coming. Therefore, the focus is on the beginning of Jesus' life. His genealogy is in focus. His... All the engagements with His earthly mother and adoptive father, the angel messages revealing his identity, wise men traveling to his birthplace... that's Advent. It's a time of preparation, a time of reflection.

In these four weeks of Advent, we are going to zero in on some carols and hymns of Advent and Christmas that help unpack a little bit more the meaning of this season, and also, of course, some Scriptures that undergird them. So it's very fitting that we begin our new Advent series with a view to probably the oldest Advent hymn that we sing. We've been singing it all morning. We've been hearing it all morning, "O Come, O Come Emmanuel." Veni Emmanuel in Latin, actually it was a Latin chant, ninth century, 12th century, unsure, but there were seven verses. It was used in Vesper services every evening for the seven days leading up to December 24, one verse per evening was sung.

In each verse, there is a revelation of what the Messiah has come to do. So each verse represents a biblical attribute and if you think about it, back in the Dark Ages, it's pretty helpful to have a primer that each verse says, "This is who Jesus is," because they didn't read the Scriptures that much. The Scriptures weren't available that much.

For instance, when we sing, "O Come, O come Emmanuel," that's taken from Isaiah 7:14. "Virgin shall conceive and give birth to a son and you shall call his name Emmanuel, God with us." That's repeated in Matthew and used in Matthew. Then we sing, "O Dayspring," really what it means is, "O morning star." I don't know about you, but the last week of clouds and everything it was great to see the sun, the morning star, rising with righteousness. Well that comes from Malachi 4:2. "The son of righteousness will rise with healing in his wings."

Then we sing a third verse even though we sing it, "Desire of nations," because somebody back in the 20s changed the original. The original was, "O rex gentuim, O King of nations, come." See the king will come to end all discord and envy and strife. He'll come to establish his kingdom. Then other verses... there are verses that say, "O key of David," that's taken from Isaiah 22:22. "Newborn king holds the keys of the kingdom and by his righteousness we enter that kingdom." Then there is the root or the rod of Jesse. That rod alone defeats Satan and brings eternal life. Then there are others that talk about Christ's wisdom and power.

So, how did a Latin chant from the ninth to the twelfth century become a song that we sing in every Christian denomination around the world? How did that get into our hands? Well, in the 19th century there was an Anglican priest. I know this is a little bit like a history lesson, but bear with me. There was an Anglican priest named John Mason Neale. And John Mason Neale, they say, I don't know if this is myth or fact, but they say he knew how to speak and read 20 different languages. He was so bright and so progressive that the clergy in England didn't want him being too influential. So they assigned him to the Madeira Islands off of the northwest coast of Africa. It's kind of an exilic assignment if you're a pastor. He did some wonderful ministry there ministering to the poor.

While he was there, he comes across an ancient book, which talks about all the hymns. He sees the seven veni Emmanuel verses, and he translates them from Latin into English and joins it to a plane-song tune of the 13th century. Being familiar with the song, the mood is almost dirge like. It sounds like something that should be sung at Vespers in the evening services, but then the chorus dramatically changes, "Rejoice, rejoice," in the midst of all this gloom. It's a prayer. The song is actually a prayer to God to come into this hurting world and deliver us.

The familiar first verse, "We who mourn in lonely exile here... " It leads us into our Scripture reading for today. I'm going to ask you to take out your Bibles and turn to page 570. There we'll see Psalm 137. This is a Psalm that recalls a time of mourning in exile. If you'll note when we read it, the verbs are in the past tense in the first three verses, which indicates it was probably written not while the Israelites were actually in exile, but probably between the ending of exile and the time of restoration.

It's suggested that it was used in the Hebrew calendar to mark a remembrance of the fall of Jerusalem and the destruction of the temple. I mean the closest metaphor or analogy for us would be something like November 19, 1863, when President Lincoln delivered the Gettysburg Address and spoke immortal words that gather into some semblance of understanding a collective pain.

So let's pray and read. Lord, we ask that you would open our eyes to hear and to see the Scriptures and to, by the Holy Spirit, to be moved to follow you. In your name we pray, Amen.

"By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept when we remembered Zion.
There on the poplars we hung our harps,
for there our captors asked us for songs,
our tormentors demanded songs of joy;
they said, "Sing us one of the songs of Zion!"
How can we sing the songs of the Lord while in a foreign land?
If I forget you, Jerusalem, may my right hand forget its skill.
May my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth if I do not remember you,
if I do not consider Jerusalem my highest joy.
Remember, Lord, what the Edomites did on the day Jerusalem fell.
"Tear it down," they cried, "tear it down to its foundations!"
Daughter Babylon, doomed to destruction,
Happy are those who repay you according to what you have done to us
Happy are those
who seize your infants and dash them against the rocks."

Well that last verse wasn't one you were expecting on the first Sunday of Advent leading up to Christmas, I bet. But what sounds horrible to our ears reveals the depth of their pain, their shame, and their humiliation, and their anger as nothing else could. See they believed that those pagan children would grow up to be just like their pagan fathers and mothers who dashed their children against the rocks in the destruction of Jerusalem. So they were praying, "God, just treat them the way that they have treated us." So this psalm and parts of the hymn meet us in the awareness that somebody here, or that somebody in this season might just be in pain... phrases like, "How can we sing the songs of the Lord in a foreign land?" That's a poetic description of many a life today. Some gather here today...

You know, I think of the events of the past weeks, especially this past week, you know dear Judy Davis, we lost her this week. I think she was sitting right down here last week. She had a chronic condition. She was one of our prayer ministers... she and Rich, all the time were serving as prayer ministers at one of the two mosaic services. She worked with Alpha. She led Bible studies. She just loved people through her nursing ministry. And she's gone after doing battle with a chronic condition where she just didn't come out of it. She was on full life support on Wednesday or Thursday, and Friday morning she succumbed.

Susan McLean lost her dad this week... her father, Joe Alsop. Last Sunday do you remember Phyllis standing here and talking about Pete and he was down in Shock Trauma in Maryland? When we went to visit him was Sunday afternoon. I honestly didn't know what to expect. God had mercy, and like Paul said to Timothy or to Thessalonians, "lest we had sorrow upon sorrow, God had mercy on him." We can rejoice that he celebrated Thanksgiving with his family.

I know from being one of the pastors here that there is brokenness and discontent in relationships. Relationships are threatened, on the verge of separation, or in separation or divorce. Then you read the paper and you read about a decent kid down in Cherry Hill. He goes out to walk his dog, 6:30 in the morning, his mother tries to figure out where he is and she walks outside and there he is lying on the sidewalk. Somebody came by and shot him at 6:30 in the morning... decent kid.

Another kid just like that, in the city, great kid, fun-loving kid, raped and murdered. You know, sometimes when I read these things, I don't know about you, but sometimes there is a part of me that says, "God, I wish somebody would bash their head against the rocks for doing these kinds of atrocities." Sometimes there are days we just have to hang our harp on a tree and just weep. That's all we can do.

I mean look at the words of the hymn, "Ransomed, captive, mourning, gloomy clouds of night, death's dark shadows, envy, strife, discord." They define reality for some gathered here today. And when you boil it down, this psalm is about people who made really stupid decisions about who or what they would devote themselves to, and they did not listen to the warning of the prophets. They did not listen to the wisdom of the Word and now they're shell-shocked by the consequences. In this, you can see that there is a longing for what is familiar. There is a longing for another place, a sense of home. Some of you may be worshipping here today and this doesn't feel like home.

I remember meeting one young person a couple of weeks ago, a student from California, and I wondered, "I wonder how it feels for her being here, freshman in college." But you don't have to be in that situation. Some of you are sitting here longing for the next step. You are antsy. You think there is something ahead or there is someone ahead and you want to connect with that image or that vision of what that thing is. But I want to tell you, don't be fooled. That new place or that person will not fully satisfy every need you have because people weren't designed to do that. Places weren't designed to do that. Jobs weren't designed to do that. They're blessings. They're good.

When we sing this hymn, we can relate to the ancient Israelites and we need to honestly ask ourselves... how is it that we have grown distant from God? What do we feel captive to? What are we exiled from? You know the word exile, what it literally means. It means to wander away. That's what led to Babylon, a spiritual drift, a spiritual dullness.

This past week I was reading a Christianity Today article. It was a survey of 1,000 pastors at a conference. And of those surveyed, 80 percent said they would do something else if it promised a better lifestyle even non-vocational ministry. I'm not faulting them for that. That just was reality. I mean, thousands of pastors just quit every month.

It's estimated that only one in ten of those who enter ministry in their 20s or early 30s will retire as a vocational minister. I understand. I understand that. There have been times in my ministry where I've like, phew, I'm ready to hang up something. I don't know about a harp on a tree, but I'm ready to hang up something.

Let me share a little bit about some personal exile from earlier this year. This is a funny thing about these personal exiles. People don't know. I don't think... Ah, maybe somebody can tell. But back in mid-summer, I've shared this in one-to-one chats with people and I've even shared it in a small group setting. I think I said something at the new member's class last time. When I say it, I say, "Now look, this is just between you and me, okay? Now don't tell anybody this because I'm going to deny it if you tell them, alright?"

So I'm just telling you that today. This is just between you and me. But I think mental exile was not a bad description of what I was feeling back in the summer. I was just wondering, What do I do? What do I do? I mean, I've been here four years. Is this where I'm supposed to be for the next four or five or whatever? What am I supposed to do? God, is this where you want me to be?

Then all kinds of other things were leading to this. I mean, I was like... Why don't you just retire early? You know, you've had losses. You're aging. You're getting to be an old man and your, you know, circumstances being what they are... So in so many words I prayed, "Lord, you better do something. You better do something. I need your help."

You know it's funny. I asked. So, I don't know, God just started answering prayer. I can't explain it. I just... All it is, is the Spirit of God answering prayer and getting help from other people. I even asked some of the staff at a meeting once. I said, "Do you notice any difference in me from like summer to September?" A few of them nodded their heads, "Yeah, we do. We do. It looks like you have... You're a lot more enthusiastic. You're a lot more energized." I don't sound energized today. I'm fighting a cold, but I felt like in that despondency I was like, "God, help me. Help me with this circumstance, you know."

Like the psalmist, sort of an internal conversation was taking place like, "Don't forget who you are. Don't forget where you've come from. Don't forget who you belong to. Don't forget what Peter said when Jesus asked his boys, 'Do you also want to go away?'" Peter said, "Where are we going to go? You alone have the words of eternal life. Where else are we going to go?" There is nothing out there for you. That's what exile is. It's feeling like you're far away from God and you think that something out there can satisfy you and it never can. You pray and say, "Lord, you alone are the wisdom and the root and the key and the son and the king. You're Emmanuel. You're the only one who can make our life make sense." Only God at the center makes sense.

I remembered what one author said, "Who you become while you're waiting for release of any sort or in any circumstance, who you become while you are waiting is as important as what you are waiting for." All I can say now is that like, "Hey, let's go. I'm pumped. Come on. The fields are white unto harvest. Let's get everybody in small groups. Let's get everybody knowing, growing, serving, sharing, come on. There are people who need the Lord. Let's work together, align ourselves to kingdom purposes."

In the midst of incredible sadness and testing, the psalmist prayed. They were angry prayers. They were fitful prayers, but they were prayers. There was a refusal to forget God in the darkest of places, and God remembered their need and in the course of the hymn, the mood changes, "Rejoice, rejoice, Emmanuel will come to us," no matter what our need. This is not a song, this is not a psalm that says, "Just get over it." This is a psalm and a song that is a promise of redemption that holds even when life seems most unbearable.

It was said to Joseph. For Joseph, his life seemed completely unbearable. He thought he was getting married, happy family, and all of a sudden... bam! God interrupts. He says, "Don't be afraid to take Mary home as your wife." In probably the darkest despair of his life, he says... He hears a word from God and he says, "What is conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son. You will call his name Jesus because he will deliver his people from their sins." And all of this took place, Matthew says, to fulfill what the Lord said to the prophet. "The virgin shall be with child and give birth to a son and they will call him Emmanuel, God with us." That's what we celebrate.

The psalmist said, "If I forget Jerusalem, may my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth. May my right hand that plays an instrument be like unable to pluck one note." It made me think about that context of thinking back to Jerusalem, the place where God dwelled, where life with God was right and at the center.

Then it made me think of Revelation 21:1-4. Listen to this.

"Then I saw "a new heaven and a new earth," for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, 'Look! God's dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. 'He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death' or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away."

That's Advent... longing and waiting for that restoration. Jesus was in exile from his home. Poetically, Jesus is called the wandering Jew, but he didn't wander away from his home haphazardly. He wandered away from his home intentionally to come to us in solidarity and suffer with us in order to bring us back home. "I go to prepare a place for you," he said. That place was the Cross. "And I go to prepare that place that where I am, you may be also." And John 14:23 said, "Anybody who loves me and obeys my commandments, I will come and my father will come and make our home in them."

A couple of days ago, Ellen said that she had a dream. She said, "Honey, I had a dream you were preaching." How about that? She had a dream I was preaching. She said, "In the dream you started singing." I said, "Oh no." She said, "But it wasn't loud. It was just quiet and soft." So I thought... Okay, well maybe I should sing to end this sermon. Be prepared! Maybe you can help me.

Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling,
Calling for you and for me;
See, on the portals He's waiting and watching,
Watching for you and for me.

Come home;
Come home;
Ye who are weary, come home!
Earnestly, tenderly, Jesus is calling,
Calling, O sinner, come home!

Reflect on where you are in the next few minutes. We're going to hear, again, O Come, O Come Emmanuel. We're going to see some images and see some Scriptures on the screen. Take it as a time of reflection and preparation to consider where God wants you to move from and to in life with him.

Thank you Lord that you do promise to come to us no matter how dark the night or despairing the circumstances. We've seen images and pictures of Melawi and thought of different difficulties that your people have faced throughout the ages. We've considered our own lives and the gaps that we feel between you and us. We pray Lord that you would come and minister to those who are most deeply afflicted by the pain of loss, especially we think of Rich Davis and Wesley and Ritchie. We think of all those who are so bereft now because they've lost Judy.

We pray the same for the McLean family, for Amy Killian, and for others who have sustained separations where relationships have changed. But because of you they've not ended. So we pray Lord for a sense of hope, a sense of working through any depression or despair in the belief that you are for us and that you will never leave us or forsake us. Lord, we love you. We thank you. We praise you for coming to us so that we might come back to you. We ask that you would hear our prayers as we offer them in the name of Jesus, our risen Lord, Amen.

© 2009, Rev. George Antonakos
Central Presbyterian Church, Baltimore, MD 21204 410/823-6145
www.centralpc.org