Orientation

For this week’s Advent reflection, I want to do something a little bit different. It has to do with an “O Antiphon,” and if you’ve never heard of this before, don’t worry: because I hadn’t either until my brother recently explained what it was, and shared with me the beauty of these sung prayers. Antiphons draw on religious texts, and enter into the liturgy throughout the church year. Traditionally, from December 17th to December 23rd (the final days of Advent), seven special O Antiphons are sung. The ‘O’ is an invocation, a direct address made to the one who is coming: they all look towards Christ’s Advent, using different names for Christ from the Old Testament.

Here I have included the text of the O Antiphon for December 21st, both in the original Latin and in a translation found in poet Malcolm Guite’s book of Advent reflections, entitled “Waiting on the Word.” Whether or not you know any Latin (I myself am in the process of learning), I would encourage you to read it aloud or to yourself as best as you can, at least to hear the musical and prayerful sound of this ancient language. You can listen to my audio recording of the O Antiphon here:

What’s more, you might be surprised at the number of words you can figure out or that look familiar to you. The etymologies of so many of our English words lead us back to Latin roots. With all that in mind, take a look at the original and translation of this very short prayer:

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

O Dayspring,
splendour of light eternal and sun of righteousness:
Come and enlighten those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death.

The first thing I’d like to draw your attention to is the very first line- the invocation, so to speak. The English version translates “Oriens” as “Dayspring,” which forges threads between Christ and the new light of day after night and the new life of spring after winter. And yet the Latin word “Oriens” literally means not dayspring but “easting.” If we think about this a little more from our anglophone perspective, it makes sense. What English word does “Oriens” look like? It bears a very strong resemblance to “orientation.”

When I think through the ways in which the word “orientation” comes up in current usage, a few things spring to mind. Orientation is often the name of a certain procedure or series of activities that enables a newcomer to “learn the ropes” of a new system. When I started university, there were a number of orientations for a number of things that were unfamiliar to the first year student. On a rather different note, there is always an orientation for those who go to ascend a rock climbing wall for the very first time (I am never among this number; I admit I have an aversion to rock climbing). These people are quite literally learning the ropes. They need to orient themselves so that in the future, they can climb to the top without external guidance. Orientation of course also has connotations of direction, perhaps of using a compass (or more accurately in today’s world: an iPhone) to find which way is north and which is south in order to reach a desired destination.

But what does the root of “orientation” really mean? It actually refers to aligning yourself with the sun. Until recent times, all Catholic churches were built facing the east so that people could pray facing the rising sun. Put simply, in Advent, Christ is the rising sun whose coming we await.

The way I see it, this O Antiphon points us to two different facets of Christ’s face. He is the sun towards which we can orient ourselves. He is the source of light and warmth, of truth and hope, to whom we can turn in times of darkness and fear, of uncertainty and despair. Yet He is more than some distant focal point, some abstract sought-after end. He is also our means of orientation. He himself orients us so that we can find ourselves bathed in the light of the eternal sun. And here we find the essence of Advent: it is all about orienting ourselves towards God, about His coming and our coming towards him as well. Advent comes from the Latin word “Adventus,” which means “coming.” It is the process of coming that we are concerned with in Advent: the long-awaited coming of Christ, and our own spiritual coming- our homecoming- to the Sun, to the One who calls us home to the light and warmth and truth and hope which are our birthrights.

I’d like to finish this reflection with a verse from Isaiah, the words of which are echoed in the O Antiphon’s seeking of light:

“The people who walked in darkness
have seen a great light;
those who lived in a land of deep darkness—
on them light has shined.”

 

Note: This post was a collaboration with my brother, Jeff Sullivan.