The Great O’s

TL, DR: The Second Coming is now. 

by Lucy Tucker Yates

Photo: Mariadonata Villa

There is a song by Charles Ives (Memories I) that goes, "Weee're SIT-ting in the op-'ra house, the op'-ra house, the op'-ra house, We're WAIT-ing for the cur-tain to arise With won-ders for our eyes... A FEEL-ing of expec-tancy, A CER-tain kind of ec-stasy, Expectancy and ecstasy--Expectancy and ecstasy---SHHHHHHSSSSS!!!" 

Such FEEL-ings surround and bind us together during Advent: we huddle in the grand theatre of heaven-and-earth, eager to see our hero revealed, ready for our leading man to light the shadows, right the wrongs, mete justice. The gaze of all is upon the stage.  

The prayers of the O Antiphons, the Great Antiphons of Advent, are the most urgent, elegant condensation of humanness I know of. As in the circular breathing of an oboist, the words on our lips give life to generations past. They focus centuries of adoration, impatience, woundedness like a spotlight. They are the poetry I would send out into space. 

How is such poetry fashioned? “Antiphon” comes from Greek ἀντίφωνον, “opposite voice,” and Socrates of Constantinople writes that Ignatius of Antioch (the third down from Saint Peter himself) introduced antiphony into worship after having a vision of two choirs of angels. Antiphons are often lifted from the Psalms or prophecies and designed for call and response, and to be sung as refrains. 

So imagine everyone in the world, together, with the house lights dimmed, with or without ushers, with or without tickets, singing "O come, o come, Emmanuel." Remember how the hymn works: the first half of each verse invokes a Messianic title and attribute of Jesus, and the second half makes a request, drawing on His strength, from our weakness. "And ransom captive I-i-is-ra-el." Notice that the hymn is a beautiful and durable recasting (in the Aeolian mode), but know now that in the ancient Italian antiphons (the first, “O Sapientia,” appears in Boethius in the sixth century) the body–of prayer, of poetry, of past, of future–is suspended between the "O" and the "come".

Each verse calls on the Most High, offering a quality, a role, a memory, as a fan might smile up at the star: "Remember when you were the commander in that crazy long battle? You shredded that day. Can you come down and shred here?" Some petitions sound well-bred and -schooled: "come, and teach us the way of prudence." Some seem brisk, but really anxious: "don’t be slow, already!" All are predicated on His coming.

And the call is always the same–a great round vocative. "Vocative" comes from Latin “vox,” voice, and one of the glories of the human voice is the shape of O. Drop your jaw and try one. You may find that the air can't decide whether to rush out hot, as in relief or in pain, or to swoop in cold, as in shock or in awe, or to park and pop open the vocal folds, as in recognition. You are suspended in a tunnel, or a cave, or a cathedral, or a cheekily perfect dewdrop. A mouth like a portal. Round as a belly. Curved as Time. 

Because God is master of inversion–we know the plot of our Trinitarian play works upside down, backwards, and inside out–the lines allow a neatly flipped acrostic mnemonic. Here are the names from end to beginning, from 23 to 17 December: 

Emmanuel  (God-with-us, the peoples' desire, giver of laws)
Rex Gentium  (King of the Peoples, who made humankind from earth)
Oriens  (Rising Star, Sun of justice)

Clavis David  (Key of David, opener of locks, shutter of mouths)
Radix Jesse  (Root of Jesse, life abiding in the tree that was cut down)
Adonai  (Lord, Ruler over nature and the House of Israel)
Sapientia  (Wisdom, the creating Logos and incarnate Word)

From the Parousia back to the creation. "Ero": "I will be [there]"; "cras": "tomorrow." The answer is within the questions: He is coming! He is the other “choir” in our antiphon! The secret voice, the wider circle! But when is "tomorrow"? Might verb tenses not work back and forth, too–or around and around? What if He is already here? What if we are all in the play? 

We are presenting the antiphons in their traditional setting, framing the Magnificat, so as to hear the expectations of the leading Man amid the satisfactions of the expectant leading Lady. We are singing solos, but we represent the whole Church, who plays not only the part of the Prophets but that of the Mother of God.

When singing of the First Coming we always invoke the Second: when yearning for the Second we always echo the First. Try the O again, and this time raise your eyebrows and open the top half of your face. Lift your cheekbones and twinkle your eyes. There, don’t you feel like a child who’s discovered a secret? OHHHHH!! That’s the kind of O we don’t often see, because its wearer claps their hands in front of it to avoid giving too much away. Inside its arena, the Parousia is all one. Emanuel, God (already) with us.  

And is this not the fullness-of-time itself? To seek to usher in on earth that which we ask the Redeemer to grant from Heaven? To meld the memory of Alpha and the desire of Omega? May we always be rounded to call and willing for His response: I will be there. I Am. Here. Now. May we always be caught between the expectancy of "Come" and the ecstasy of "O."

_________________________

O Sapientia, quae ex ore Altissimi prodiisti,
attingens a fine usque ad finem,
fortiter suaviterque disponens omnia:
veni
ad docendum nos viam prudentiae.
  

        O Wisdom,
          which came out of the mouth of the Most High,
          and reaches from one end to another,
         mightily and sweetly ordering all things:
                   come,
                         and teach us the way of prudence. 

O Adonai, et Dux domus Israel,
qui Moysi in igne flammae rubi apparuisti,
et ei in Sina legem dedisti:
veni
ad redimendum nos in brachio extento.
  

        O Adonai,
          and leader of the house of Israel,      
          who appeared in the bush to Moses in a flame of fire,
          and gave him the law on Sinai:
                    come
                       and redeem us with an outstretched arm. 

O radix Jesse, qui stas in signum populorum,
super quem continebunt reges os suum,
quem Gentes deprecabuntur:
veni
ad liberandum nos, jam noli tardare.
  

        O Root of Jesse,
          which stands for an ensign of the people,
          at whom kings shall shut their mouths,
         and whom the Gentiles shall seek:
                    come
                        and deliver us, and tarry not. 

O Clavis David, et sceptrum domus Israel;
qui aperis, et nemo claudit;
claudis, et nemo aperit:
veni,
et educ vinctum de domo carceris,
sedentem in tenebris, et umbra mortis.
  

        O Key of David,
        and Scepter of the House of Israel,
          who opens and no one can shut,
          who shuts and no one can open:
                    come,
                        and bring the prisoners out of the prison-house,
                        them that sit in darkness and the shadow of death. 

O Oriens,
splendor lucis aeternae, et sol justitiae:
veni,
et illumina sedentes in tenebris, et umbra mortis.
  

        O Day-spring,
         brightness of the light everlasting,
          and Sun of righteousness:
                    come
                       and enlighten them that sit in darkness and the shadow of death. 

O Rex Gentium, et desideratus earum,
lapisque angularis, qui facis utraque unum:
veni,
et salva hominem,
quem de limo formasti.

          O King of nations and their desire;
          the Cornerstone, who makes them both one:
                    come
    and save mankind, whom you formed of clay. 

O Emmanuel, Rex et legifer noster,
exspectatio Gentium, et Salvator earum:
veni
ad salvandum nos, Domine, Deus noster.
  

        O Emmanuel, our King and Lawgiver,
          the desire of all nations and their salvation:
                   come
                       and save us, O Lord our God.