An eighth-century German prayer set to a fifteenth-century French tune, “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel” is perhaps the most Advent-y of all Advent hymns with its seven names of Jesus.

Listen to the Carol

Keep Exploring

Transcript

Welcome back to Advent of Carols from VerseNotes.

I’m Jerry Towler, and today we’re looking at “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel”, a song that’s older than most countries.

If you want to listen to the song before we dive in, you’ll find some links in the show notes.

You can kind of feel the age in the music for this hymn, right? It’s slow and it’s aching, it’s almost haunting. But the magic of this hymn and what I want to talk about today is not just the mood it sets, but the seven names of Jesus that kind of form its backbone.

You see, this carol is actually built on the “O Antiphons”, which is an ancient series of prayers. An antiphon is just a short chant. And in eighth-century monasteries in Germany, the week before Christmas, each night’s evening prayer began with one title of the coming Messiah. And each one of them started with O: O, Wisdom. O, Emmanuel. O, Root of Jesse. Get it? The “O Antiphons”. And these refrains remind us each night of who we’re waiting for. So when we sing this hymn today, we’re really kind of praying twelve centuries of prayers.

And then on Christmas Eve, they end with Mary’s Magnificat, this amazing song about who Jesus is and who he will be. I mentioned yesterday the song of Simeon, one of those four hymns of Christmas actually recorded in the Bible. And the Magnificat is another one of those.

And here’s the key to this whole song:

If Jesus is not who these names say he is, then we have no business rejoicing.

But because he is, we can sing that refrain—”Rejoice! Rejoice!”—with confidence.

Now before we really dig into those seven names, I want to talk very briefly about how this song got from, you know, 700s Germany to us today.

The modern form was first collected in 1710 in some German hymnals, but they’d only had five verses, and it wouldn’t get the last two, even though we knew they were here, until 1878.

In 1851, a guy named John Mason Neale gave us an English translation for this song. And he’s important because he’s the same guy who gave us the hymns “Good King Wenceslas” and “Good Christian Men, Rejoice”, which we’ll talk about later in this series.

The tune was first published that same year, 1851, by a guy named Thomas Helmore, who claimed that it came from medieval French music, but he gave no evidence, no sources. He didn’t, you know, cite his inspirations. And no one knew where it came from until 1966, when a woman named Mary Berry uncovered a 15th century manuscript in Paris, which confirmed that Helmore was exactly right. It came from 15th century France.

It’s just amazing that this song is from the 700s. The tune is from the 1400s. We are singing some old, old hymns.

So let’s talk about those seven names of Jesus.

1. Emmanuel

This is the foundation, right? If Jesus isn’t God with us, then we can just stop right here. But God does not save us from a distance. He shows up in flesh and blood, like we saw yesterday in Hebrews 2. And if he truly is with us, if he’s really here and really human, then our exile here has an expiration date, because he’s already risen. He’s already reigning. He will show us the way home.

2. Wisdom from on High

This language comes from Proverbs 8, where the personified Wisdom calls aloud as the architect of creation. And then John 1 tells us that Christ was there in the beginning and that nothing was made without him. And Hebrews 1 tells us that he’s still at it, upholding the universe by the word of his power. And that means that Advent hope is not just optimism. It’s expectation that the one who designed the universe and currently upholds it can also set right the chaos that’s in us and in our world.

So we pray when we sing this hymn, show us the path of knowledge, guide us through the dark. Jesus doesn’t just know the way; he is the way.

3. Lord of Might

This is the God of Sinai: thunder and lightning and flame and a lot of, you know, volcano imagery. Moses comes down glowing so brightly that they can’t even look at him without a veil. That law is how God forms this wandering people, these escapees from Egypt, into a nation.

And Jesus does the same thing for us. He creates a royal priesthood, a holy nation. The hope of Advent requires this kind of power to rescue captives. That’s us.

4. Root of Jesse

This one’s always kind of seemed weird to me for two reasons.

First, I always associate David as the ancestor of Jesus, and Jesse is just kind of David’s father.

But second, I just said ancestor. But this name says that actually Jesus is the root, right? Jesus is the source of Jesse.

And here’s where this language comes from. It’s Isaiah 11. Isaiah is talking about this dead stump of a kingdom. It’s been totally cut down. There’s nothing left. And yet somehow from it, a branch—the branch of Jesse, Isaiah says—shoots up with life.

And that is Advent. It’s a kingdom grown from dead wood. It’s a king born to nobodies, in a nowhere town, in a mostly forgotten Roman province. And before that king, rulers fall silent.

5. Key of David

Jesus is the one who opens and no one shuts. The one who shuts and no one opens. He has the authority to welcome us home and to open wide the door of his Father’s house. This is the Advent hope of belonging. Not just rescue from captivity, but entrance, adoption into a family, into a home.

6. Dayspring

This is the dawn that breaks after the longest night. Advent arrives, you know, when days are short and nights are cold, which is fitting for a hymn that was born in the northern hemisphere. But this dawn isn’t about weather. It’s about light that disperses the clouds of fear and shame and despair. The coming of Jesus is sunrise for the whole world.

7. Desire of Nations

We saw yesterday that this is from Haggai 2:7, but again I’m going to talk about Isaiah 2, where all nations are streaming upward to the mountain of God, seeking his justice and his peace, proving that Jesus is the longing of every people, every culture, every restless heart.

And that means that Advent is not tribal hope. It’s not eighth-century German hope. It’s not ancient Semitic hope. It’s universal hope.

And then after every name comes the same command: “Rejoice! Rejoice!”

Rejoice! Even though we are in exile. Rejoice! Even though the night is dark and full of terrors. Rejoice! Even though we live in a world scarred by sin and death.

And why? Because the one who can end our exile is on his way. He’s coming.

“Emmanuel shall come to thee.”

And that is Christmas. And it’s beyond Christmas. He came once and he’s coming again. And these names in this hymn are the guarantee that he can and he will save us.

He is Emmanuel, Wisdom, Lord of Might, Root of Jesse, Key of David, Dayspring, Desire of Nations.

Every Advent carol is ultimately a prayer of hope. But this one is a whole portfolio of hope. Each name is a reason to lift our heads.

The world is still dark. It’s still captive. It’s still divided. It hasn’t gotten better since yesterday. But only someone who is all of these things can answer that kind of darkness.

“O come, O come, Emmanuel.”

That’s why we sing.

Thanks for joining me today for Advent of Carols. If you’d like to help make more projects like this possible, check out VerseNotes Commons at https://versenotes.org/commons. And we’ll be back tomorrow with another carol of Christmas.

Updated: