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Starting
Point O come, Emmanuel, save us, for you are our
God
The following reflection is one of a series by Elizabeth West
of Harefield, Australia, on the O Antiphons, the alleluia verses from the
Liturgy of the Hours traditionally recited during vespers in the latter days of
Advent.
By ELIZABETH WEST
Tonight we gathered to pray the last
of the O Antiphons. The air we drew into our lungs to give us breath to sing
was clean, washed by summer storm and rain. The dust had been laid low, and the
atmosphere was clear enough to see the details of the farms across the valley
floor. Trees shone, and rocks on the hills opposite gleamed with moisture. It
was pure and still in this late afternoon prayer time. No harvesters patrolled
the paddocks, and few cars passed. In the apricot tree, a large orb-weaving
spider (whose genus bears the grandiose name of Eriphora), was busy weaving her
web, and around the vegetable garden, monarch flycatchers flipped and spun in
their nightly food drive.
In the quiet, we gathered to pray. O Emmanuel, giver of a
new law to all nations, come and save us, for you are our God, and our
voices shook the stillness enough to make Eriphora pause in her weaving. For
me, there was a longing in this last antiphon -- sung out against the dying day
-- and a recognition of the supremacy of Christ, lawgiver, peace-bringer,
heart-healer. We long for a presence among us that can bring us to something we
call home where we are at one with our own deepest longing.
You are our God, we sang, come and save
us. Save us from ourselves, from our selfishness, our pride and
arrogance, from our self-pity and our self-doubt. Come and save us, Emmanuel,
from the fears that hold us prisoner of the dark. Come and save us, give us
light.
As the antiphon settled to stillness, the words of Isaiah came to
mind: For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government
will be upon his shoulder, and his name will be called Wonderful
Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace (Isaiah
9:6).
It is to us a child is born. To us is a son given. To
us does God reveal tenderness in the person of Jesus. To us does God show might
and power, in the fragile gift of a child born of a woman. To us. And more
still. To our very selves is given Christ. The very gift of Christmas is our
own call to empty ourselves in order to be made pregnant with the Word -- the
gift of grace that is Christ. To us and in us indeed a Son is given.
We are responsible for the gift. Our task is to nurture it and
love it to life. Christmas is more than a remembering of the wonder of
Gods love for us, it is the prompting to remember that each of us is
asked to mother-forth the son given to us as gift. St. Bernard said it
gracefully I think: What use is it to us if Christ be born in Bethlehem
and not in our own hearts? What use indeed! Christmas is not simply the
remembering of the moment of Jesus birth and our redemption, it is the
timely reminder of our call to bring Christ to birth in our world, through our
godly deeds and actions. We, too, are theotokos -- Christ bearers to the
world.
So we sang our final antiphon. O Emmanuel, Giver of a new
law to all nations, come and save us, for you are our God. Now, we wait.
In the stillness. Wait and work and wait: Wait for the moment of final
recognition and rebirthing. Wait with endless longing and with boundless hope.
Wait, and watch and work, that the kingdom come, and hearts be woven into
one.
Sr. Elizabeth A. West is a member of the Australian Province of
the Little Company of Mary. She is the retreat director for the Overdale
Retreat Centre in Harefield, Australia. Her e-mail address is
ewest@lcm.org.au
National Catholic Reporter, December 22,
2000
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