O Come and enlighten those who sit in
darkness; those who dwell in the shadow of death, Maranatha! Come Lord Jesus,
come.
As
I read this very beautiful O Antiphon, a memory comes to mind of long summer
evenings spent in the high field – the moinin
ard as we called it – sitting under a haystack just watching the
breathtaking sight of the sun going down beyond the woods and bog lands of our
farm in the West.
The
silence was full, deep and quiet, except for the little birds on their way home
to roost and the friendly crickets close by.
But as the last lights faded what a mystery it was to my child’s mind!
Where,
oh where had the sun gone?!
No
grown up’s explanations prepared me for what was always a fresh experience of
another rising sun as it streamed through the trees – right into my room the
next morning. The chorus of birds as
they flew again to the cornfields and the grass glittering with dew drops and
diamonds to me. Even then this scene had
power to thrill me with anticipation of something I knew not what! - was it a
foretaste of another Rising Sun still unknown to me?
What
or who is this ‘Splendour of Eternal Light’ coming to enlighten those of us who
sit in darkness – lost in our own little worlds? It is the Lord Himself, majestic and glorious
“wrapped in light as in a robe.”
Come
then my Lord, my God, teach me where and how to find you – you who dwell in
light inaccessible and I desire to come close to you, to be warmed by you. Oh Fire of Love, I beg you, “lead kindly
light amid the encircling gloom ...lead thou me on.” (Newman)
You
are a Living Flame, always burning with love for me, for every person in the
world.
Enter
into us this Advent-tide and set our hearts on fire with love for you. What is it that inspires you with such love
for us - your poor children? What draws you to us?
In
a few days time you will be born in a poor stable warmed only by your mother's loving care - just what draws you to us? – love is the answer. Love alone impels you to come once again this
Christmas night – not as I tasted you in your glory as a child, but as a tiny Babe – Oh you our Tremendous Lover – Maranatha.
The
King shall come when morning dawns
And
light triumphant breaks,
When
beauty gilds the eastern hills
And
life to joy awakes.
O
brighter than the glorious morn
Shall
this fair morning be,
When
Christ our king in beauty comes
And
we his face shall see.
The
King shall come when morning dawns
And
light and beauty brings,
Lord
Jesus Christ, your people pray,
Come
quickly, King of kings. (John Brownlie)
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