From the Shadow Lands into the Light of Christ
Introduction
O Come, O Come Emmanuel is perhaps one of the better-known hymns that is typically sung during the Christmas holiday season. What some may not know is that it originated in the middle ages, around 800 A.D. as an antiphon, or anthem, that was restructured into verse form in the 1100’s, and was eventually published in Latin in 1710. The hymn was later discovered, translated, and published in 1851 by John Mason Neale, an Anglican minister. As people sing this hymn they assuredly know that they are singing about the birth of Christ. However, what is striking about this hymn is its approach to unpacking the birth of Christ. It moves from the shadow lands of the Old Testament into the light of the New Testament with the revelation of God in Christ. This hymn traces the themes of Israel’s exodus to the eschatological, or final, exodus that was to begin with the birth of the Messiah. We can see this progressive unfolding of God’s redemptive plan if we turn to the Old Testament and begin with Israel’s exile in Babylon.
Mourning in lonely exileIn Israel’s earliest days as a nation, God brought them out of Egypt, made a covenant with his people, and began to lead them to the land of promise—the land that he had sworn to give to Abraham and his descendants (Gen 15.18-21). Israel, of course, was a cantankerous nation and lacked the faith to enter the promised land, to believe in the gospel promise of God (Heb 3.18-4.2). When Israel had finished her forty-year wandering and stood at the threshold of the promised land, it was undoubtedly a time of excitement and hope. They were at last going to enter the land promised to their patriarch, Abraham, so long ago. On the eve of their entry into the land, however, Moses wrote an inspired prophetic song. This song was filled with praises for their covenant Lord, but at the same time foretold of Israel’s future disobedience and sin (Deut 32.20-24). Israel did fulfill these words and was carried off into exile because of their sin, idolatry, and rebellion. The northern kingdom was taken away by the Assyrians in the eighth-century bc and the southern kingdom of Judah was taken away into captivity by the Babylonians in the sixth-century bc.
Over the centuries there have been millions of people displaced by war—exiled from their home country. Yet, Israel’s exile in Babylon was unique. Israel was the only nation on the face of the earth with whom God had made a covenant. Like Adam, the first man and God’s son (Luke 3.38), God had given Israel, his firstborn son (Exo 4.22), a fruitful land, one flowing with milk and honey, one that was marked by God’s very own presence as in the garden-temple of Eden. In the same way that God once walked in the cool of the day with Adam in the beautiful garden-temple (Gen 3.8), so too God walked with Israel in the promised land by his presence in the tabernacle (Lev 26.11-12; 2 Sam 7.6; MT; LXX). Yet, like Adam before them, Israel sinned which caused the prophet Hosea to cry out: “Like Adam they transgressed the covenant” (Hos 6.7a).
For his disobedience, like Adam before, Israel was exiled from the presence of God. Israel was carried into exile to Babylon longing for the presence of God, longing for God to redeem them, to ransom them from their captivity. However, the faithful remnant did not merely desire to return to the land but ultimately for God to dwell once again in their presence (Psa 137.1-4). Yet, as Israel sat in exile by the waters of Babylon, there was still hope—a hope of redemption. Many undoubtedly looked to the prophetic words of Isaiah: “Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Emmanuel” (7.14). There was a coming child, one who would save Israel—the Lord’s presence in the flesh. In this regard we should note that the word Emmanuel means, “God with us.”
Perhaps now, we have a better idea of what lies behind the first two verses of our hymn:
O come, O come, Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel,
that mourns in lonely exile here, until the Son of God appear
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come, O come, thou Lord of might, who to thy tribes, on Sinai’s height,
In ancient times didst give the law in cloud and majesty and awe.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.
Here the hymn recounts the faithful remnant in exile in Babylon longing and looking for the birth of their Savior. Our hymn couches this desire in terms of the biblical theme of the eschatological exodus, evident in the connections between Israel’s exile in Babylon and the exodus from Egypt by reference to God’s presence on Sinai.
The shoot of Jesse and the Key of DavidThe prophet Isaiah, however, had much more to say about this coming Savior. Many Old Testament saints knew that the coming Savior would come from the line of David (2 Sam 7.12-13). However, the nation was in ruin, the temple, God’s dwelling place, was razed to a pile of rubble, and it seemed as though David’s line had been cut off. Once again Isaiah prophesied: “There shall come forth a shoot from the stump of Jesse, and a branch from his roots shall bear fruit” (11.1). Here the prophet likens the Davidic dynasty to a stump—the great oak, if you will, of David’s kingdom had been all but destroyed. Yet, from this stump, this seemingly dead tree, a shoot would go forth—and this shoot would bear much fruit. Unlike Israel’s wicked kings, even unlike king David, this king would be holy and righteous (Isa 11.2-5).
Elsewhere in Isaiah’s prophecies, there was an oracle of judgment against Jerusalem and especially her king who relied too much on other nations rather than the Lord. Isaiah prophesied that God would raise an insignificant servant to care for the house of David, Eliakim, the son of Hilkiah: “And I will place on his shoulder the key of the house of David. He shall open, and none shall shut; and he shall shut, and none shall open” (Isa 22.22).
Yet, Eliakim only pointed forward to the greater servant, to the one who would possess the key of the house of David: “And to the angel of the church in Philadelphia write: ‘The words of the holy one, the true one, who has the key of David, who opens and no one will shut, who shuts and no one opens’” (Rev. 3.7). The Apostle John in the book of Revelation applies this Isaianic title to Jesus. It is Jesus, of course, the son of David, the son of God, who would come and rule of Israel. The faithful Israelites undoubtedly longed and looked for the birth of this one, the one who would hold the key of David. It is this Isaianic connection lies behind the fifth verse of our hymn:
O come, thou Key of David, come and open wide our heavenly home;
Make safe the way that leads on high, and close the path to misery
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.
However, notice once again the theme of the exodus, as it is this descendant of David who will make safe the way that leads on high—the pilgrimage to the New Jerusalem, the fulfillment of the shadow of the promised land.
Dayspring from on highFrom the days of Isaiah, though, hundreds of years passed, and seemingly little had happened to address Israel’s mourning. Yes, Israel had returned from exile—Cyrus, the great Persian king, had led Israel back to the land and had them rebuild the temple (Isa 45; Ezra 1.1ff). Israel left Babylon in an exodus-like journey that returned them to the land of their forefathers (Isa 49, esp. v. 10; cf. 42.16; 48.21; Exo 13.21-22; 15.13). Yet, even though the temple had been rebuilt, the faithful remnant knew that their return to the land was not the great divine visitation for which they longed, hoped, and prayed. In fact, when the temple was rebuilt, Israel wept rather than rejoiced. The prophet Haggai laments: “Who is left among you who saw this house in its former glory? How do you see it now? Is it not as nothing in your eyes” (2.3)? Yet, the prophet also looked to the future: “The latter glory of this house shall be greater than the former, says the Lord of hosts. And in this place I will give peace, declares the Lord of hosts” (2.9). So, then, Israel was still looking for a greater day yet, one that looked beyond this provisional return to the land. That day would come hundreds of years later.
On the heels of the birth of John the Baptist, John’s father, Zechariah, prophesied of the Messiah who would soon appear (Luke 1.67-79). Zechariah likens the coming Messiah, the descendant of David, the one who would deliver Israel from her enemies, the one who would be righteous, the one who would bring the forgiveness of sins and light to those who sat in darkness, to the sunrise, or dayspring, from on high (Luke 1.78; KJV). In other words, he likens the coming Messiah to the rising sun shining light upon the dark world (cf. John 1.1-5). It would be through the birth of the Savior that God’s people would be liberated from the powers of Satan, sin, and death. And, hence, we find the following in the fourth verse of our hymn:
O come, thou Day-spring from on high, and cheer us by thy drawing nigh;
disperse the gloomy clouds of night, and death’s dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.
Emmanuel, God with us, did come to Israel. God fulfilled his promises that he made long-ago, not just through the prophet Isaiah, but even to our very first parents, Adam and Eve. God promised Adam and Eve that the seed of the woman would overcome the seed of the serpent (Gen 3.15). Ever since then, God’s faithful have been looking for the birth of their Savior (cf. Gen 4.1 MT). When Jesus was born, God had finally answered the prayers of his people. He had finally fulfilled his long-awaited promise (see e.g., Luke 2.4-14). Here was the son of David, the Lord, the one who would deliver his people from their sin. In this regard it is important that we see that Christ was not born to bring political freedom to the people of God, but rather a freedom of far greater significance. He was to bring freedom from the powers of Satan, sin, and death.
In the third verse of our hymn, given what appears in the first two verses, it casts Christ’s redemption in terms of the eschatological, or final, exodus. It is no longer the exodus out from under the tyranny of Pharaoh, nor is it the exodus from Babylon that appears. Rather, it is the exodus out from under the oppressive rule of Satan, sin, and death that Jesus brings:
O come, thou Rod of Jesse, free thine own from Satan’s tyranny;
From depths of hell thy people save, and give them victory o’er the grave.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.
When we contemplate the birth of Christ, we must not do so in terms of some sort of saccharine tale about an infant king born to bring the world some joy—to give some glimmer of hope in an otherwise gloomy place. When we think of the birth of Christ we should also not get caught up in the seasonal sentimentality, where Jesus is but one of a number of symbols meant to inspire kindness and good cheer: snowflakes, snow men, sleigh rides, and Jesus.
Rather, the birth of Christ is the long-awaited fulfillment of God’s promises to his people, the beginning of the eschatological exodus. Christ was born in a lowly estate, in the likeness of sinful flesh, that he might redeem for his Father a people, that he might redeem for himself a bride, a bride for whom he laid down his very life. In this regard we see that it was Simeon, a godly man, who was waiting, we are told, for the consolation of Israel, and when he laid his eyes upon and held the child-savior said: “Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to your people Israel” (Luke 2.29-32).
It is this fulfilled promise that the author(s) of our hymn saw running through the pages of Scripture. The author(s) saw a line that began in the earliest portions of the Scriptures in Israel’s exodus, and one recapitulated in Israel’s exodus from Babylon. It was a line that began in these shadows that was ultimately fulfilled in Christ’s advent—the one who would lead the Israel of God, the church, on the eschatological exodus—the liberation out from under the tyranny of Satan, sin, and death.
This hymn, though typically employed to celebrate a man-made “holy day,” is grounded in the unfolding drama of God’s revelation that culminates in the advent of Christ. It is certainly a hymn that the church should use to celebrate the birth of Christ. It is also one that should be upon the mouths of God’s people throughout the year on each and every Lord’s Day as Christ continues to lead us on the eschatological exodus with the new Jerusalem as our destination, the new heavens and earth. Let us therefore celebrate the birth of our Lord on God’s appointed day by moving from the shadow lands of the Old Testament, the land of promises and types, into the fullness of the light of the revelation of Christ.