Ancient Advent

BY THE REV. PORTER C. TAYLOR

Every family has special traditions marking the weeks leading up to Christmas. Whether it is making a favorite dish (Nana’s fudge), watching a favorite movie (The Bishop’s Wife) or another seasonal activity (decorating cookies), we celebrate the same rituals every year. Growing up, I marked the beginning of the Christmas season by circling my hoped-for gifts in an archaic publication called a “catalog.” The Christmas Eve pageant brought Jesus in at the last minute, but the rest of my childhood Advent experience was defined by toys, twinkling lights and trees.

For Christians, Advent is embodied by two drastically different journeys. Media corporations, advertising conglomerates and every toy-and- Christmas-accoutrement manufacturing company under the sun narrate and dictate the first. Commercial America tells us parties, traditions, presents and matching family pajamas are the reason for the season. Bombarded with visions of the good life, we drown in enticements to spend money on things we don’t need, toys our children won’t want and gifts we can’t afford. The season ends with the unwrapping of presents, performed in a ritualized ceremony. (I should note that our family celebrates Christmas with presents, lights, a tree and other traditions, but these are not the reason for Advent.)

Scriptures and liturgies, some of the church’s earliest and most significant documents, proclaim and embody the second journey. The story our liturgical Advent presents stands in direct contrast to contemporary consumer culture. Scripture and worship proclaim the truth: The Incarnation is the reason for the season. Jesus’ first coming is the in-breaking of God’s earthly dominion as he assumes our humanity in order to transfigure, transform and redeem it. Rather than ending with the unwrapping of presents, the season culminates in the birth of the incarnate one, the Messiah who has come to restore, rescue and reconcile creation to the Creator.

Ancient Observation

Both stories seek to capture and captivate our hearts, but the true Advent is far more compelling than the holiday industry’s offerings. Advent is neither about having the newest, the latest or the greatest, nor does it focus on the unnecessary accumulation of stuff to achieve happiness. True Advent gets to the heart of what it means to be human. It tells us a story at once ever ancient, ever new: the tale of God’s great love for his people made manifest in his covenant faithfulness: God with us, Emmanuel.

Christians have observed Advent since the middle of the fourth century, or more than 1,500 years, based on writings from St. Gregory of Tours. Even the word has an ancient feel, derived from the Latin adventus, meaning “coming.” The church has seen fit to set aside a time for annual prayer and fasting, the Feast of the Incarnation, as believers prepare their hearts for Jesus’ birth.

Throughout Advent, the lectionary hurls us backward into Israel’s prophetic tradition and, as author Karen O’Donnell first put it, Luke’s “Annunciation-Incarnation event” narrative. With the prophets, we join a story already in motion. We discover an Israel subjected to exile, captivity and foreign occupation, a people who believe God has forgotten his promises. God sends his prophets again and again to preach a message of repentance and hope, of contrition and expectation.

We cannot separate Advent from the rich soil of exilic longing.

The lectionary readings, liturgical prayers and hymnody of Advent teem with references to the prophetic period as they anticipate Jesus’ birth. For four weeks, they plant worshippers firmly within this period of Israel’s past, inviting us to step into the narrative and lift our voices with the prophets, crying out for mercy and redemption, asking God to remember his steadfast love. Advent carries a palpable clamor for the arrival of Messiah, the holy one who will save Israel.

We cannot separate Advent from the bright future of Messianic fulfillment.

New Traditions

In 2021, we live on the other side of the Incarnation. We remember Christ’s first coming, and we look forward with faithfilled hope toward his second Advent, when he returns to put the world to rights. Advent forces us to maintain the tension between the already and the not yet as we look both backward and forward. The relationship between exile and Messiah, longing and fulfillment, already and not yet is perhaps best captured through the ancient Advent words of the O Antiphons.

First mentioned in A.D. 515, the O Antiphons became a normal component of eighth-century Advent worship. Based on the words of Israel’s prophets and expressed within a common liturgical-hymnody structure, the O Antiphons trace salvation history from the beginning of time (“O Wisdom”) to Jesus’ birth (“O Emmanuel”).

The beginning letter of each of the seven antiphons forms an acrostic. The acrostic reads, “ero cras,” meaning, “Tomorrow I am coming.” We begin singing one antiphon a day on Dec. 17 and finish on Dec. 23, when our Lord reminds us that “Tomorrow I am coming.” We celebrate the Feast of the Incarnation at sundown the next day.

You may know the O Antiphons by another name; they are the lyrics of “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel.” (Thanks to Rebecca Taylor for her research and liturgical work on the O Antiphons.)

These ancient Advent words help shape us as disciples. They capture the prophets’ cries, they sum up Israel’s hopes, and they tell the world-changing story of when “the Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood” (John 1:14a, MSG). Toys, tinsel, twinkling lights and trees will never be able to compete with the true Advent. Advent helps forge our faith in the ancient fire of word and worship.

I invite you to add new traditions to your Advent journey this year. Consider using the “O Antiphons Liturgy̕̕ found at stdavidsbythesea. org/sdi-resources. Dig deeper into the prophetic books of scripture and yearn with Israel for redemption. Pray the Magnificat every day, joining with Mary as she rejoices in God’s actions. Let our liturgies shape a prophetic imagination and Messianic hope within you. May your hearts be captured and captivated by an ancient Advent – a true Advent.