The Advent Antiphons: O Virgo virginum

Icon of Our Lady of the Great Panagiya (Orans), (Russia, 13th c.)
[The State Tretyakov Gallery]

O Virgo virginum, quomodo fiet istud?

Quia nec primam similem visa es nec habere sequentem.

Filiae Jerusalem, quid me admiramini?

Divinum est mysterium hoc quod cernitis.

O Virgin of virgins, how shall this be?

For neither before thee was any like thee, nor shall there be after.

Daughters of Jerusalem, why marvel ye at me?

The thing which ye behold is a divine mystery.

“My soul doth magnify the Lord, 

    and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Savior. 

For he hath regarded

    the lowliness of his handmaiden. 

For behold from henceforth

    all generations shall call me blessed. 

For he that is mighty hath magnified me,

    and holy is his Name. 

And his mercy is on them that fear him

    throughout all generations. 

He hath showed strength with his arm;

    he hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts. 

He hath put down the mighty from their seat,

    and hath exalted the humble and meek. 

He hath filled the hungry with good things,

    and the rich he hath sent empty away. 

He remembering his mercy hath holpen his servant Israel,

    as he promised to our forefathers,

    Abraham and his seed for ever.”

Luke 1:46–55

O Virgin of virgins, how shall this be?

For neither before thee was any like thee, nor shall there be after.

Daughters of Jerusalem, why marvel ye at me?

The thing which ye behold is a divine mystery.

[Here is a setting of O Virgo virginum by Josquin de Prez, sung by Chanticleer.]

* English translation from the Church of England’s Advent seasonal resource.

The Advent Antiphons: O Emmanuel

'O Emmanuel' Antiphon for Magnificat during Advent Vespers, Antiphonal (Dominican Archive, Krakow, 16th c.)

O Emmanuel, Rex et legifer noster,

expectratio gentium, et Salvator earum:

veni ad salvandum nos,

Domines, Deus noster.

O Emmanuel, our King and our lawgiver,

the hope of the nations and their Savior:

Come and save us, O Lord our God.

Isaiah 7:14; Matthew 1:23

Jesus the Messiah, born of your mother Mary from the Holy Spirit, you are Emmanuel, God with us (Mt 1:18, 23).  As God you are always with us in the sense that “we live and move and have our being” in you—where can we go and not be with you?  (Ac 17:28; cf. Ps 139:6)  At the same time, as the Creator you are far from creation in that you are life itself and we, your creatures, have life from you, not in ourselves. And we go far from you when we wander from you in sin.  O Lord my God, you are interior intimo meo et superior summo meo (“more inward than my innermost and higher than my highest"). [1]

As God become man you are with us because you “became flesh and lived among us” (Jn 1:14).  Without changing your nature, you took on our nature when you humbled yourself (Phil 2:7).  You who were from the beginning, and are, were “made man” so that we, who were not, but are, might hear you and see you and touch you, that is, that we might have fellowship with you and with your Father and the Holy Spirit. [2]  The fellowship of a bridegroom and bride is like the fellowship we now have with you, because in your mother’s “virginal womb two things were joined, a bridegroom and a bride, the bridegroom being the Word and the bride being the flesh” and they are no longer two “but one flesh, for ‘the Word was made flesh and dwelled among us’.” [3]  In that fellowship, we "have life, and have it abundantly" (Jn 10:10).

Come, Lord Jesus, that we might call you, “My husband” (Hos 2:16).  Hasten the day when your holy city will appear “prepared as a bride adorned for her husband,” when the loud voice will say,

     See, the home of God is among mortals.

     He will dwell with them;

     they will be his peoples,

     and God himself will be with them; 

     he will wipe every tear from their eyes.

     Death will be no more;

     mourning and crying and pain will be no more,

     for the first things have passed away. (Rev 21:2–4)

[Here is a setting of O Emmanuel, sung by Peter Morton (tenor) and the Choir of St John's College Cambridge, conducted by David Hill.]

* English translation from the Church of England’s Advent seasonal resource.

[1] Augustine, Conf. 3.6.11.

[2] Cf. Augustine, Io. ep. tr. 1.5; 1 Jn 1:1–3.

[3] Augustine, Io. ep. tr. 1.2.

The Advent Antiphons: O Rex gentium

Detail of Mosaic of Christ Enthrone as Heavenly King, Basilica di Sant'Apollinare Nuovo (Ravena, Italy, 6th c.)

O Rex gentium, et desideratus earum,

lapisque angularis, qui facis utraque unum:

veni, et salva hominem,

quem de limo formasti.

O King of the nations, and their desire,

the cornerstone making both one:

Come and save the human race,

which you fashioned from clay.

Jeremiah 10:7; Isaiah 28:16;  Ephesians 2:14

Lord Jesus Christ, you are the “King of the nations,” the mysterium tremendum et fascinans, both feared and desired by the nations.  You are feared because, on the one hand, “you are great” and it is your due to be feared (Jer 10:6–7).  On the other, because you are “the living God and the everlasting King,” you inspire terror in the nations insofar as they make “a covenant with death” and seek to conceal their transience with lies; they cannot endure the prospect of your coming to “sweep away the refuge of lies” and annul their death-dealing ((Jer 10:10; Isa 28:15, 17–18).

You are the desire of the nations because you are the “Prince of Peace” (Isa 9:6).  The nations desire you insofar as there is no creature that does not desire peace, for even when we, in pride, hate your just peace and love our own peace of injustice, we “cannot help loving peace of some kind or other.” [2]  

Christ Jesus, you are “our peace” (Eph 2:14):  in your flesh you have united Jews and Gentiles, breaking down the dividing wall of hostility between us.  You came that you might create in your self “one new humanity in place of the two, thus making peace” and that you “might reconcile both groups to God in one body through the cross, thus putting to death that hostility through it” (vv. 15–16).  You came and proclaimed peace to those of us “who were far off and peace to those who were near”; for through you “both of us have access in one Spirit to the Father” (v. 17).

Come, Lord, and make manifest your peace!

[Here is a setting of O Rex gentium, sung by Peter Morton (tenor) and the Choir of St John's College Cambridge, conducted by David Hill.]

* English translation from the Church of England’s Advent seasonal resource.
[1] Augustine, civ. 19.12.

The Advent Antiphons: O Oriens

Miniature of Christ in glory from the 'Regia Carmina'
(Italy, 14th c.) [British Library, Royal 6 E IX f.4v]

O Oriens, splendor lucis aeternae,

et sol justitiae:

veni, et illumina sedentes in tenebris,

et umbra mortis.

O Morning Star,

splendor of light eternal and sun of righteousness:

Come and enlighten those who dwell in darkness 

and the shadow of death.

Malachi 4:2 

O gracious Light, 

pure brightness of the everliving Father in heaven, 

O Jesus Christ, holy and blessed, [1] 

you are “the root and the descendant of David, the bright morning star” (Rev 22:16).  You are the star that has come out of Israel (Num 24:17), the Savior “prepared for all the world to see,”

     a Light to enlighten the nations, 

          and the glory of your people Israel. (Lk 2:31–32)

Lord, we are “in a dark place”: come rise in our hearts at the dawning of the new Day (2 Pt 1:19).  We are in the shadow of death: come and enlighten us, “O Son of God, O Giver of life.”

     Thou splendor of the Father’s glory,

     who brings forth light from light,

     light of light and fount of light,

     day that lights up the day.

     Thou true Sun, shine forth

     blazing with eternal splendor,

     and pour forth into our souls

     the radiance of the Holy Spirit. [2]

[Here is a setting of O Oriens, sung by Peter Morton (tenor) and the Choir of St John's College Cambridge, conducted by David Hill.]

* English translation from the Church of England’s Advent seasonal resource.

[1] Phos hilaron, The Book of Common Prayer, p. 64.

[2] The first two stanzas of Splendor paternae gloriae by Ambrose of Milan (d. 397).  The English text is Thomas Merton's loose translation of the Latin:

     Splendor paternae gloriae,

     de luce lucem proferens,

     lux lucis et fons luminis,

     diem dies illuminans.

     Verusque sol, illabere

     micans nitore perpeti,

     iubarque Sancti Spiritus

     infunde nostris sensibus.

The hymn is most commonly known in English as, “O splendor of God’s glory bright,” after Robert Bridges’ translation.

The Advent Antiphons: O Clavis David

Detail of O Clavis David antiphon for the Magnificat during Advent Vespers,
"The Poissy Antiphonal", f31r (France, 14th c.)

O Clavis David, et sceptrum domus Israel,

qui aperis, et nemo claudit; claudis, et nemo aperuit:

veni, et educ vinctum de domo carceris,

sedentem in tenebris, et umbra mortis.

O Key of David and scepter of the House of Israel;

you open and no one can shut;

you shut and no one can open:

Come and lead the prisoners from the prison house,

those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death.

Isaiah 22:22; 42:7; Revelation 3:7–13

Lord Jesus Christ, you are “the Holy One, the True One,” “the first and the last, and the living one” who has “the keys of Death and of Hades” (Rev 3:7; 1:17–18).

     When you became man to set us free 

     you did not shun the Virgin's womb. 

     You overcame the sting of death 

     and opened the kingdom of heaven to all believers. [1]

You have “the key of David” (Rev 3:7; cf. Isa 22:22); it is yours to grant access to the kingdom of your Father, yours to say either, “Come,” or, “Depart” (cf. Mt 25:34, 41).  You set before your faithful disciples “an open door, which no one is able to shut” (Rev 3:7, 8).  To those who persevere in your way, you open the narrow gate that leads to life (cf. Mt 7:14).  You promise entrance to the new Jerusalem to those who, possessing “but little power” in themselves, are enabled by your gift to patiently endure great suffering (Rev 3:8, 10).

Lord, grant that we—who have “but little power”—might heed your words, “I am coming soon; hold fast to what you have” (Rev 3:11).

[Here is a setting of O Clavis David, sung by Peter Morton (tenor) and the Choir of St John's College Cambridge, conducted by David Hill.]

* English translation from the Church of England’s Advent seasonal resource.
[1] From the Te Deum, cf. The Book of Common Prayer, p. 96.

The Advent Antiphons: O Radix Jesse

Detail of a miniature of the Tree of Jesse,
Beginning of the Gospel of Matthew
(France, 13th c.) [British Library]

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, standing as a sign among the peoples;

before you kings will shut their mouths,

to you the nations will make their prayer:

Come and deliver us, and delay no longer.

Isaiah 11:10; 45:14; 52:15; Romans 15:12

Lord Jesus Christ, you are the shoot from the stock of Jesse (Isa 11:1), the “Rose e’er blooming” who has sprung from a “tender stem” in the half spent night. [1]  You showed “God’s love aright,”when you came in great humility as “a servant of the circumcised on behalf of the truth of God” (Rom 15:8).  Filled with the gifts of the Holy Spirit, you were made a witness to the peoples of the “steadfast, sure love” of God, confirming God’s promises to Israel and revealing his mercy to the Gentiles (cf. Isa 11:2–3; 55:3–4; Rom 15:8–9).  When you went to your death and exaltation, you said, “Now is the judgement of this world; now the ruler of this world will be driven out.  And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself” (Jn 12:31–32).  Lifted up on the cross, you astonished the powers by disarming and humiliating them in it (Col 2:15).  You stand as a sign of the justice of God among the nations.

But the nations do not yet acknowledge your sovereignty, Lord Christ.  The night is far gone and the day of your manifestation is near, but the world remains marked by hurt and destruction   (Rom 13:12, cf. Isa 11:9).  Gratifying the libido dominandi (lust for power), “the powerful feed upon the powerless.” [2]  They—the “wolves” and “leopards,” “lions” and “bears”—“prowl on every side” looking to devour the poor and defenseless “lambs” and “kids,” who themselves exalt what is vile (Isa 11:6–7; Ps 12:8).  

Lord, come quickly and deliver us.  Do not delay in coming to judge the world with righteousness and equity (cf. Isa 11:3–5).  Hasten the coming of your kingdom of justice and peace.  Come quickly and bring the day when

          The wolf shall live with the lamb,

             the leopard shall lie down with the kid,

          the calf and the lion and the fatling together,

             and a little child shall lead them. 

          The cow and the bear shall graze,

             their young shall lie down together;

             and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. 

          The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp,

             and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder’s den. 

          They will not hurt or destroy

             on all my holy mountain;

          for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord

             as the waters cover the sea. (Isa 11:6–9)

[Here is a setting of O Radix Jesse, sung by Peter Morton (tenor) and the Choir of St John's College Cambridge, conducted by David Hill.]

* English translation from the Church of England’s Advent seasonal resource.

[1] Cf. “Lo, how a Rose e’er blooming.”

[2] Francis I, Apostolic Exhortation, Evangelii Gaudium, 53.

The Advent Antiphons: O Adonai

Scenes from life of Moses, Ingeborg Psalter (Denmark, 13th c.)

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 to Moses in the fire of the burning bush

and gave him the law on Sinai:

Come and redeem us with an outstretched arm.

Exodus 3:2; 24:12

“O LORD my God you are very great” (Ps 104:1).  Dwelling “in unapproachable light,” you make “flame and fire your ministers,” as when your messenger appeared to Moses “in a flame of fire out of a bush” (1 Tim 6:16, Ps 104:4; Ex 3:2).  When you appeared in the blazing unburnt bush, revealing yourself as the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, Moses was afraid to look at you (cf. Ex 3:6).  When you gave him the law on Sinai, “in cloud and majesty and awe,” your appearance was “like a devouring fire on the top of the mountain in the sight of the people of Israel” (Ex 24:17).  You are very great, O LORD: “in your light we see light” (Ps 36:9).

Fire and light are apt figures for you, O Lord, for your life blazes out in uncontainable freedom.  Your unsayable, mysterious Name gives us no handle on you.  “I AM WHO I AM,” you say, “I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy” (Ex 3:14; 33:19).  In your freedom, you show that your “unfamiliar name” is love. [1]

In love, O LORD, you observed the misery of your people in Egypt, and came to your people to set them free from their oppressors.  You "brought Israel out with silver and gold" because you remembered your covenant to Abraham; you brought your people out with joy and your chosen ones with singing, giving them the lands of the nations that they might keep your statutes and observe your righteous laws (Ps. 105:37, 42–45).  

O LORD, your steadfast love endures forever (cf. Ps 136).  Come again and deliver your poor ones who suffer injustice.  Give us the grace to “be docile and attentive to the cry of the poor and to come to their aid.” [2]  Come and redeem your people.  “Stir up your power, O Lord, and with great might come among us; and, because we are sorely hindered by our sins, let your bountiful grace and mercy speedily help and deliver us.” [3]

[Here is a setting of O Adonai, sung by Peter Morton (tenor) and the Choir of St John's College Cambridge, conducted by David Hill.]

* English translation from the Church of England’s Advent seasonal resource.
[1] Cf. T.S. Eliot, “Little Gidding,” IV.

[2] Francis I, Apostolic Exhortation, Evangelii Gaudium, 187. 

[3] Collect for the Third Sunday of Advent, The Book of Common Prayer.

The Advent Antiphons: O Sapientia

Detail of drawing of Temple of Wisdom,
with the Virgin, Christ, and the gifts of the Holy Spirit
(Germany, 12th c.) [British Library]

O Sapientia, quae ex ore Altissimi prodisti,

attingens a fine usque ad finem fortiter,

suaviter disponensque omnia:

veni ad docendum nos viam prudentiae.

O Wisdom, coming forth from the mouth of the Most High,

reaching from one end to the other mightily,

and sweetly ordering all things:

Come and teach us the way of prudence.

Ecclesiasticus 24:3; Wisdom 8:1

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the Father, you are “the wisdom and power of God” (1 Cor 1:24), because you are “wisdom from wisdom” just as you are light from light and God from God, one wisdom, one light, one God with the Father and the Holy Spirit. [1]  

You are the wisdom whom the Father eternally utters as his Word.  Through you the worlds were created, “all things in heaven and on earth…, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers—all things have been created through” you and for you (Col 1:16).  You are the Word in whom “all things hold together” (Col 1:16, 17), the wisdom of whom it is written,

     She reaches mightily from one end of the earth to the other,

     and she orders all things well. (Wis 8:1) 

By you the Father has spoken to us in these last days (Heb 1:2), when you, the Word, “became flesh and lived among us” (Jn 1:14).  You “declare the Father as he is, because you are yourself just like that, being exactly what the Father is insofar as you are wisdom…” [2]  Because you are the exact “image of the invisible God” (Col 1:15), whoever has seen you has seen the Father (Jn 14:9).

You, Christ, “became for us wisdom from God, and righteousness and sanctification and redemption” (1 Cor 1:30).  You become wisdom for us, our wisdom, when we turn to you and you enlighten us; you are made wisdom in the sense that “we turn to you in time...in order to abide with you for ever.” [3]  You became for us the way to the Father.  When we imitate you by living wisely, you refashion us to your likeness; when we walk in you, we move toward you, who are ever with the Father and the Holy Spirit. [4]

Come, teach us the way of wisdom in the “foolishness” of your cross, “for God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength” (1 Cor 1:25).

[Here is a setting of O Sapientia, sung by Peter Morton (tenor) and the Choir of St John's College Cambridge, conducted by David Hill.]

* English translation from the Church of England’s Advent seasonal resource, one of an abundance of supplementary seasonal material in Common Worship.

[1] Cf. Augustine, Trin. 7.1.2.

[2] Augustine, Trin. 7.3.4, emphasis added and pronouns changed to second person.  ET:  Augustine, The Trinity. The Works of Saint Augustine. Trans. Edmund Hill (New City Press, 1991).

[3] Ibid., pronouns changed to second person.

[4] Cf. Augustine, Trin. 7.3.5.

The Advent Antiphons

Detail of the Magnificat Antiphons
for Vespers in the 4th week of Advent,
“The Poissy Antiphonal”, f. 30r (France, 1335–45)
[State Library of Victoria]

When I was growing up, most years during the weeks before Christmas my parents would somehow get my siblings and me to stay after dinner at the table for devotions around the Advent wreath.  About the only thing I remember about these times is that we would sing, “O come, O come, Emmanuel."  I've always liked this hymn, with its plaintive tune and hopeful words—words which come from a set of ancient Latin prayers known as the "O Antiphons."

Since at least the eighth century, western Christians following Roman use have sung the O Antiphons before and after the Magnificat at Vespers on the seven days preceding Christmas Eve (December 17–23).  These antiphons, or refrains, all beginning “O…”, invoke the Messiah with titles and images derived primarily from the Old Testament.  Through the O Antiphons, the church calls to her Savior, “Veni, Come!”  In reverse order, the initials of each invocation (Emmanuel, Rex, Oriens, Clavis, Radix, Adonai, Sapientia) form an acrostic that spells out the Latin phrase, ero cras, in which the church hears the response of Christ, “I shall be [with you] tomorrow."

The medieval rite of Salisbury Cathedral (also known as “Sarum Use”), which was widely followed in the English church before the Reformation, began the O Antiphons on December 16, providing an additional antiphon (O Virgo virginum, “O Virgin of Virgins) for Christmas Eve.  The Calendar of the 1662 Book of Common Prayer possibly reflects this usage in designating December 16 as O Sapientia (O Wisdom).

As a devotion for the last days of Advent (with partial inspiration from here), I have prepared a series of reflections—with visual and musical pairings—on each antiphon following the old English use.

                              16 December — O Sapientia

                              17 December — O Adonai

                              18 December — O Radix Jesse

                              19 December — O Clavis David

                              20 December — O Oriens

                              21 December — O Rex gentium

                              22 December — O Emmanuel

                              23 December — O Virgo virginum

Sources:

“O-Antiphons”, The Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church, eds. F.L. Cross and E.A. Livingstone (2^nd ed; Oxford, 1983).

M. Hugo, "O Antiphons," New Catholic Encyclopedia, Vol. 10 (2nd ed; Gale, 2003).

On an Advent Collect

Missal, with the text for Advent (Durham, England, 14th c.)

"Almighty God, give us grace to cast away the works of darkness, and put on the armor of light, now in the time of this mortal life in which your Son Jesus Christ came to visit us in great humility; that in the last day, when he shall come again in his glorious majesty to judge both the living and the dead, we may rise to the life immortal; through him who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen."

The 1662 Book of Common Prayer appoints the collect for the First Sunday of Advent to be repeated every day in Advent until Christmas Eve.  The prayer thus sets the tone for the whole season—indeed, for the whole liturgical year—and invites reflection.

“Give us grace to cast away the works of darkness, and put on the armor of light”

The prayer opens with language taken from Romans 13:12, part of the Epistle lesson (Rom 13:11–14) associated since at least the medieval period with the first Sunday of Advent and retained in the first year of the three-year cycle of the current Revised Common Lectionary.  (The lesson appears, for example, in the 14^th-century English missal shown in the image above.)  The English reformers expanded the lesson to begin with verse 8: “Owe no one anything, except to love one another; for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law.”  

The expanded lection helps us see that to cast away the works of darkness and to put on the armor of light is nothing more nor less than to love.  For St. Paul connects the love command (vv. 8–10) to the section about knowing the time (vv. 11–14) with a simple kai touto, “and this.”  Thus, St. Paul effectively says in verse 11 that we are to love, knowing that it is time to walk in the light of the coming day of salvation.  Because the night is far spent, because the reign of sin and death is near its end, we are to put on the armor (hopla, lit., “weapons”) of light (v. 12).  We are to no longer give our selves as “instruments of unrighteousness” (hopla adikias), but to present our bodies to God as “instruments of righteousness” (hopla dikaisoynes) (6:13), as “ a living sacrifice” (12:1).  In short, we are to “put on the Lord Jesus Christ” (13:14), to immerse ourselves in the life of the risen Lord.  United with our Lord in a death like his in baptism, we are to “walk in newness of life,” living to God, considering ourselves “alive to God in Christ Jesus” (cf. Rom 6:4–11).  Knowing the time, we are to “walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself for us, an offering and sacrifice to God.” (Eph 5:2).

“Now in the time of this mortal life in which your Son Jesus Christ came to visit us in great humility”

Now is when we are to love one another.  Like St. Paul, the collect assumes that we know the time, “that now it is high time to awake out of sleep: for now is our salvation nearer than when we believed.  The night is far spent, the day is at hand” (Rom 13:11–12a, KJV).  Now is the time of the shadows before the coming dawn, a time when the continuing effects of sin and death require from us sober watchfulness and mutual encouragement if we are to not be conformed to this devastated world, but transformed by the renewing of our minds (12:2).

Advent Prayers in "The Leofric Missal" (England, 9th–11th c.)

Now we are to let our minds be conformed to of Christ Jesus, “who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death— even death on a cross” (Phil 2:6–8).

“That in the last day, when he shall come again in his glorious majesty to judge both the living and the dead, we may rise to the life immortal”*

The prayer concludes by directing our attention to the second advent of our Lord, to the day when “at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father” (Phil 2:10–11).  In light of his coming, “what sort of people ought [we] to be in living lives of holiness and godliness, waiting for and hastening the coming of the day of God?” (2 Pt 3:12)  We are called to be a people whose lives of love point to the coming renewal of creation, “where righteousness is at home” (2 Pt 3:13).  We are called to be a people whose obedience to the Lord Jesus proclaims his sovereignty in a world that does not yet acknowledge Christ as King.

* The collect’s aspiration clause corresponds closely to a post-communion prayer in the Gelasian Sacramentaries of the 8^th century, a family of western service books from which, together with the Gregorian Sacramentaries, the Roman Missal derives.  (An early example of the prayer is found in the “Leofric Missal,” brought to England in the 10^th or 11^th century.  See the last prayer, beginning Preces populi tui, in the righthand image above.)  That prayer translates roughly as “...that they may rejoice at the advent of your Only-begotten according to the flesh, may at the second advent, when he shall come in his majesty, receive the reward of eternal life” (Trans. Marion J. Hatchett, Commentary on the American Prayer Book [HarperOne, 1995], p. 165).

"Read, Mark, Learn, and Inwardly Digest": On Eating Scripture

Sandro Botticelli, "Madonna of the Book" (ca. 1483)

“BLESSED Lord, who hast caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning; Grant that we may in such wise hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that by patience and comfort of thy holy Word, we may embrace, and ever hold fast, the blessed hope of everlasting life, which thou hast given us in our Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.”

The collect for this the penultimate Sunday of ordinary time was composed for the first Book of Common Prayer in 1549.  The prayer was originally paired with the readings for the second Sunday of Advent, and it draws its language from the epistle lesson for that day: Romans 15:4–13.  There we read, “Whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that by steadfastness and by the encouragement of the scriptures we might have hope” (v. 4).  The acknowledgement clause of the collect (“who has caused all holy Scriptures, etc.”) corresponds to the first part of St. Paul’s sentence, and the collect’s aspiration clause (“that, by patience and the comfort of they holy Word, we may, etc.”) to the second part.  (The last phrase of the collect makes reference to Colossians 1:27.)  In the collect’s petition clause (“grant that we may, etc.”), we ask for what we need in order to maintain hope.  We ask God—“the God of steadfastness and encouragement”, “the God of hope” (Rom 15:5, 13)— for what we need to be the sort of people who can take courage from Holy Scripture and so hold steadfast to our hope in Christ.  And what we need is to truly hear the words of Scripture.  Accordingly, we pray for the grace to hear the words of Scripture, “so that we may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit” (Rom 15:13).

The collect recognizes, with the long tradition of the church, that hearing the Word of God in the manifold words of Scripture is demanding.  To drive the point home, the collect glosses “hear” with a concatenation of verbs: “read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest.”  Scripture does not instruct us in hope automatically; rather, we must chew, ingest and ruminate on the words of Scripture in order to discern in them the comfort (in the sense of the late Latin confortare, “greatly strengthen”) of God’s holy Word.  What is offered to us in the words of Scripture sometimes does not seem palatable, but when we “inwardly digest” it we will, like the prophet Ezekiel, find it sweet as honey in our mouths (Ezek. 3:3).  We will discover the sweetness of Christ, “for both in the Old and New Testament everlasting life is offered to Mankind by Christ, who is the only Mediator between God and Man, being both God and Man.”*  Tasting for ourselves the goodness of the Word become flesh increases our appetite for our Lord.

In the end, learning to hear the Word is a matter of love.  “Hunger for the Word is a need of love. […] It is the discovery of the mystery of a Person deeply loved, in whom every truth comes together like the lines on his face.  He is the Truth, and every text of Scripture speaks of him.”**  Reading, marking, learning, and inwardly digesting the words of Scripture is a primary way we “seek his face always” (Ps. 105:4).  Thus, Augustine exhorts us in this life of our pilgrimage to “treat the Scripture of God as the face of God.  Melt in its presence.”***

*Article VII, Articles of Religion.

** Mariano Magrassi, Praying the Bible: An Introduction to Lectio Divina, trans. Edward Hagman (Liturgical Press, 1998), p. 65.

*** Augustine, Sermon 22.7, PL 38.  Translation from Robert Louis Wilken, The Spirit of Early Christian Thought: Seeking the Face of God (Yale, 2003), p. 50.

“The Lord is glorious in his saints”: For All Hallows’ Eve

School of Dionysius, Hexameron Icon (Moscow, early 6th c.) Tretyakov Gallery. Top: Days of the week,
symbolized by (and dedicated to) an event in the history of salvation, arranged clockwise around the Saturday of All Saints,
which also symbolizes the eternal Sabbath of the eschaton.  Bottom: Niches contain various categories of saints:
prophets, 'fools for Christ', hermits, bishops, patriarchs, apostles, martyrs, holy women, and sainted physicians.

Today is the eve of All Saints’ Day, a principal feast of the church, dedicated to all God’s “servants and witnesses,” known and unknown, “who have finished their course” and abide in glory. [1]

I

Historically, the feast appears to derive from the early Christian practice of venerating the martyrs; initially individual martyrs were remembered locally, and eventually groups of martyrs were commemorated.  By the end of the fourth century, John Chrysostom could preach a homily “on all the saints in the whole world who have been martyred,” apparently in connection with a feast in the week after Pentecost. [2]

In the West, an annual commemoration of all the holy martyrs dates to the seventh century, when Pope Boniface VI consecrated the Pantheon on Rome as a church dedicated to the Virgin Mary and all the martyrs on May 13, 609 or 610.  In the eighth century, Gregory III (731–41) dedicated an oratory in the basilica of St. Peter to “the Redeemer, His holy Mother, all the Apostles, Martyrs, Confessors, and all the just and perfect who are at rest throughout the whole world,” for the reception of relics of saints.  A century later, Gregory IV (827–44) convinced the Emperor Louis I the Pious (778–840) to order the observance of All Saints throughout all his realms.  It appears that Gregory IV also changed the date of the festival from May 13 to November 1, possibly for the very pragmatic reason that there was not enough food in Rome during the springtime to support both the local inhabitants and the masses of pilgrims who came annually to celebrate the feast. [3]  By about 800, All Saints was regularly celebrated on November 1 throughout the western church.  

The feast of All Saints rose to prominence in the East during the reign of the Byzantine emperor Leo VI “the Wise” (866–911).  Leo built a church in Constantinople dedicated to his late wife (who would soon be canonized), Theophano Martiniake (d. 893), but at the objection of certain bishops the name was changed to the Church of All Saints. [4]  According to an Orthodox tradition, Leo also decreed that the first Sunday after Pentecost be dedicated to All Saints—the date on which the Orthodox observe the feast today.

II

On All Saints’ Day the church sings God’s praise in “the congregation of the faithful,” remembering that this congregation includes the great “cloud of witnesses” who died in faith, and praying for the grace to imitate those who so faithfully followed the Lord Jesus (Ps. 149:1; Heb. 12:1).  We, who remain on pilgrimage, praise God for all those who have finished their course in the faith and fear of God, “for the blessed Virgin Mary; for the holy patriarchs, prophets, apostles, and martyrs; and for all other thy righteous servants, known to us and unknown.”  We praise God for “all the martyrs and saints in every age and every land,” because their example encourages us to persevere in the way of the Cross.  We praise God for all the holy ones, because their fellowship strengthens us.  (And many have thought that their prayers aid us.)  We praise our Lord for all the holy ones—who are made holy by the gift of the Holy Spirit—because “the Lord is glorious in his saints.”  We praise God for the holy ones, because in their mortal bodies the glorious life of Jesus Christ shines forth (2 Cor. 3:11).  

III

We feast the saints because their witness gives us hope that even our quotidian lives might show forth the life of Christ.  We commemorate the saints and martyrs that we might be spurred towards imitating these imitators of Christ.  As John Chrysostom put it, “…to honor a martyr is to imitate a martyr,” [6] that is, it is by imitating the martyrs in their obedience of Christ that we truly honor them.

IV

All Saints’ Day has its origins in the feasts of the martyrs, so it is fitting to close with a reflection on martyrdom, using words T.S. Eliot places in the mouth of Thomas Becket (d. 1170), martyred archbishop of Canterbury.  In a Christmas sermon, Eliot’s Thomas reflects on the way the church both rejoices and mourns in the death of martyrs:

“Beloved, we do not think of a martyr simply as a good Christian who has been killed because he is a Christian: for that would be solely to mourn.  We do not think of him simply as a good Christian who has been elevated to the company of the Saints: for that would be simply to rejoice: and neither our mourning nor our rejoicing is as the world’s is. A Christian martyrdom is never an accident, for Saints are not made by accident.  Still less is a Christian martyrdom the effect of a man’s will to become a Saint, as a man by willing and contriving may become a ruler of men.  A martyrdom is always the doing of God, for his love of men, to warn them and lead them, to bring them back to His ways.  It is never the design of men; for the true martyr is he who has become the instrument of God, who has lose his will in the will of God, and who no longer desires anything for himself, not even the glory of being a martyr.” [7]

Later, as his priests seek to bar the door of the cathedral against the knights who have come to kill him, Thomas commands them to unbar the door:

             We are not here to triumph by fighting, by strategem, or by resistance,

             Not to fight with beasts as men.  We have fought beast

             And have conquered.  We have only to conquer

             Now by suffering.  This is the easier victory.

             Now is the triumph of the Cross… [8]

All Saints’ Day teaches us that Christians “have only to conquer now by suffering,” because our Lord has already triumphed in his Passion and Death.  Vicit agnus noster, eum sequamur!

[1] “For the Saints and Faithful Departed” and the prayer “O God, the King of saints…” in The Book of Common Prayer (1979), pp. 838, 489.

[2] PG 50:705–712, ET: “On the Holy Martyrs” in John Chrysostom, The Cult of the Saints: Select homilies and letters, Popular Patristics, trans. and ed. Wendy Mayer (SVS, 2006), pp. 217–26.  As Mayer argues, although the title in the manuscripts implies a general festival of martyrs, the homily seems to commemorate a specific group of martyrs who were roasted on iron grills.

[3] K.A. Heinrich Kellner, Heortology: A History of the Christian Festivals from their Origin to the Present Day, trans. “A priest of the Diocese of Westminster” (London, 1908), p. 325.  Kellner relies on the twelfth-century French liturgist and theologian Jean Beleth.

[4] Glanville Downey, “The Church of All Saints (Church of St. Theophano) near the Church of the Holy Apostles at Constantinople,” Dumbarton Oaks Papers, 9/10 (1956), pp. 301-305.

[5] Collect for All Saints’ Day.

[6] “Τιμή γαρ μάρτυρος, μίμησις μάρτυρος.”  PG 50:661–6.  ET: “A Homily on Martyrs” in Wendy Mayer and Pauline Allen, John Chrysostom, Early Church Fathers (Routledge, 2000), pp. 75–8.

[7] T.S. Eliot, Interlude, Murder in the Cathedral, p. 47.

[8] Ibid., Part II, p. 74.

"You mighty ones": Concerning the angels

Icon, Archangel Michael (Novgorod, Russia, 21st c.)

"The LORD has set his throne in heaven,

    and his kingship has dominion over all.

Bless the LORD, you angels of his,

you mighty ones who do his bidding,

    and hearken to the voice of his word.

Bless the LORD, all you his hosts,

    you ministers of his who do his will.

Bless the LORD, all you works of his,

in all places of his dominion;

    bless the LORD, O my soul."

— Ps. 103:19–22

If Christian ministers are “ambassadors of a disputed Sovereign,”[1] the feast of St. Michael and All Angels [2] reminds us that humans are not the only ministers of God.  For on this feast, we praise God, “who hast ordained and constituted the ministries of angels and men in a wonderful order.”  Angels also are “ambassadors of a disputed Sovereign,” creatures witnessing to the rule of the triune Lord.

Angels are creatures.  This point is of fundamental theological importance, especially because it entails that the fallen angels are also creatures.  Thus, “that ancient serpent, who is called the Devil and Satan, the deceiver of the whole world” (Rev. 12:9), is not an embodiment of evil balanced equally against the good, but one of God’s good creatures who, in turning away from God, became deeply damaged.

The holy angels are messengers (which is what the Greek word angelos means), servants of God who bear witness to the surprising power of God.  In the biblical narrative, angels appear at critical junctures (especially at the birth, death and resurrection of Jesus, during the precarious first days of the church, and at the Eschaton), participating in the accomplishment of that to which they bear witness.  Thus, Gregory the Great writes that “whenever some act of wondrous power must be performed,” the archangel Michael (whose name means “Who is like God?”) is sent, “so that action and name may make it clear that no one can do what God does by his own superior power.”[3]  Likewise, when Gabriel (“The Strength of God”) was sent to Mary “to announce the One who appeared in humility to quell the cosmic powers,” then “God’s strength announced the coming of the Lord of the heavenly powers, mighty in battle.” [4]  Perhaps we might even say that angels are the witness they bear:  “That a Virgin conceives is not merely what Gabriel talks about but is the very reality of Gabriel.”[5]

The holy angels enjoy unbroken fellowship with the triune Lord, and through Christ Jesus the Mediator we humans are also restored to fellowship with the same Lord.  Therefore, the communion of saints includes both humans and angels.  Augustine puts it well:  “[W]hen the Scripture says, ‘As for me, my true good is to cling to God’ [Ps. 73:28] it refers not only to the good for mankind, but first and foremost, to the good of the holy angels.  Those who share in this good have holy fellowship with him to whom they adhere, and also among themselves; and they are one City of God, and at the same time they are his living sacrifice and his living temple.”[6]  Our fellowship with the angels is most evident when, “with Angels and Archangels, and with all the company of heaven,” we give thanks, saying,

“Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Hosts:
Heaven and earth are full of thy Glory.
Glory be to thee, O Lord Most High.”

[1] Richard John Neuhaus, Freedom for Ministry.

[2] September 29.  Marked today because this year September 29 fell on a Sunday, which is always a feast of our Lord.  The date of the feast commemorates the dedication of a sixth-century (?) basilica to St. Michael on the Salarian Way outside of Rome.

[3] Gregory the Great, Homily 34 on the Gospels 8–9, in J. Robert Wright, Readings for the Daily Office from the Early Church, p. 491.

[4] Ibid., p. 492.

[5] Robert W. Jenson, Systematic Theology, 2:125.

[6] Augustine, City of God 12.9.2.

St. Christopher the Dog-headed

Icon, Мученик Христофор (Matryr Christopher) (20th c., Suzdal, Russia)

This summer in a monastery museum in Suzdal, Russia, I came across something strange: an icon depicting a military saint with the head of a ferocious-looking beast.  And, as if this wasn’t strange enough, the saint in question turned out to be none other than St. Christopher!  Of course, I had to find out what this was all about.

According to the earliest accounts, St. Christopher was a soldier martyred for his faith in Syrian Antioch round about the year 300. [1]  According to all the accounts, he was named Reprebus (or, Reprobus, literally, “wicked”), but after his baptism he was named Christopher (literally, “Christ-bearer”).  By 452 there was a church dedicated to him in Bithynia; the earliest Greek passions likely date from the sixth century and the earliest Latin passions from the ninth century in France.  These early accounts gave rise to the depiction of St. Christopher with a dog’s head, because they describe him as coming from a land of cannibals and dog-headed people.  For example, a late ninth-century Latin manuscript describes him thus:  

“There was a certain man who, since he was a foreigner from the land of man-eaters, had a terrible appearance, a dog's head as it were [qui habebat terribilem visionem et quasi canino capite].”

And again:

“His head was terrifying, like that of a dog [Caput ejus terribile ita ut canis est].  His hair was very long, and gleamed like gold.  His eyes were like the morning star, and his teeth like the tusks of a boar.  Words are not sufficient to tell of his greatness.” [2]

The Latin tradition appears not to have taken the description literally.  (It did, however, add embellishments, so that the medieval western accounts—which reached their final form in the wildly popular thirteenth-century Golden Legend—depict the saint as a giant who carried the child Jesus across a river on his shoulders.)  In contrast, the Greek tradition did take the description of the martyr quite literally—hence the icons depicting St. Christopher as dog-headed (Gk: κυνοκεφαλος, kunokephalos).

But why do the ancient accounts describe Reprebus/Christopher as coming from a land of cannibals and dog-headed people in the first place?  The short answer is that they do so in order to emphasize his foreignness.  

In the earliest accounts, Reprebus is captured and forced to serve as a soldier in the numerus Marmaritarum (“Unit of the Marmitae”), which means that he was one of the Marmitae, a people who lived in the region in northern Africa known to the ancients as Marmarica. [3]  This fact is significant because, in ancient literature, mythic characteristics accrued to Africa (and India) owing to their location at the edge of the known world, the oikoumenē.  Both continents were defined by their supposed abundance of natural wonders, of bizarre and inexplicable phenomena.  The Greeks even had a proverb about this: “Libya always brings forth some new thing.” [4]

Icon, Christopher "Cynephelous" (17th c., Asia Minor),
Byzantine and Christian Museum, Athens

Ancients and medievals delighted in cataloguing the reported wonders of Africa and Asia.  In these catalogues of wonders, Cynocephalics (Dog-heads) appeared alongside other “monstrous races”—One-eyes, Ear-sleepers, Shadow-feet, and No-noses; races of hermaphrodites, of pygmies, and of anthropophagi (cannibals).  For example, in the fifth century BC the Greek physician and historian, Ctesias of Cnidus, wrote of a people living in the mountains of India who have the heads of dogs and who communicate by barking.  Pliny the Elder (23–79 AD) drew on Ctesias’ account, including the Dog-heads in his Natural History in a section on “the wonderful forms of different nations.”  They even make an appearance in Augustine’s City of God under his discussion of whether “certain monstrous races of men [quaedam monstrosa hominum genera], spoken of in secular history,” are also descendants of Adam, that is, are truly human (civ. 16.8.1).  And the late fifteenth-century Nuremberg Chronicle contains a section on “strange peoples”, in which Dog-heads figure prominently.  (Here is Beloit College’s edition.)

Interestingly, although Augustine was skeptical about the truth of the reports of Pliny et al., he stands in a long tradition of philosophical and theological consideration of the “monstrous races” in order to ask what it means to be human.  This tradition extends at least through the Enlightenment, especially with respect to that most monstrous of races, the anthropophagi.

Reprebus, the cynocephalic cannibal from the edge of the world, is the Other par excellence.  The story of his conversion and martyrdom serves in part to illustrate the liberality of God’s love extending even to those whose very humanity is contested.  Indeed, the author of the eighth-century Passion from which I have been quoting states explicitly that he is relating the saint’s story in order to teach that the Lord rewards even converts from “nations who are only recently converted to the Lord,” and frequently refers to God as diligens humanum genus, “the lover of the human race.”  St. Christopher the Dog-headed, however fantastic, bears witness to the power of God’s love to transform even the unlikeliest, to do more than we can ask or imagine.

[1] David Woods, professor of classics at University College Cork, has an excellent page devoted to St. Christopher on his website, The Military Martyrs.  

[2] “Passio Sancti Christophori, martyris” [= BHL 1764], Anal. Boll. X (1891), pp. 394ff.  Translated by David Wood (here).  The passion is well worth reading.

[3] David Woods, “The Origin of the Cult of St. Christopher" (October 1999), The Military Martyrs.

[4] James S. Romm, The Edges of the Earth in Ancient Thought: Geography, Exploration, and Fiction (Princeton, 1992), p. 88.