INFANT HOLY, INFANT LOWLY Advent Family Worship with Carols and their Poets

Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus

Charles Wesley (1707-1742) 

Advent Eve Preface

(November 30)

Come, thou long expected Jesus,

Born to set thy people free;

From our fears and sins release us,

Let us find our rest in thee.

Israel’s strength and consolation,

Hope of all the earth thou art;

Dear desire of every nation,

Joy of every longing heart.

Born thy people to deliver,

Born a child and yet a King,

Born to reign in us forever,

Now thy gracious kingdom bring.

By thine own eternal spirit

Rule in all our hearts alone;

By thine all-sufficient merit,

Raise us to thy glorious throne.

Have you ever wondered what makes Christmas such an enchanting time of year? We love the lights, the decorations, the garlands and trees, the nutcrackers, the sleigh bells, and all those Christmas cookies and candy! But can you imagine all these without music?

Music and Christmas

Christmas music has a great deal to do with the wonder of Advent, Jesus’ first coming; we hear it in the car, and on our devices; we hear it while shopping for gifts, and we sing Christmas carols at church. But what is it that makes a particular kind of song a carol, a song uniquely appropriate to be sung at Christmas? In these daily Advent family devotions, we will explore the best Christmas carols, their authors, the music to which they are set, and discover what makes these hymns about Advent so special to us.

Like a beautiful tapestry, both the lyric (the words) and the music of the finest carols are interlaced, are expertly woven together. They awaken something deep within us, something marvelous beyond words, something that transports us from our everyday, ordinary lives, into celestial splendors, too high to grasp, too deep for words.

And yet we are singing words! We are hearing music! Conjoining together, those words and music transport us into the immeasurable vault of eternal things, things too high and beautiful for mere words. Which is part of the reason God made us to make poetry and music! And a particular kind of music, music to sing at Advent, the culmination of millennia (thousands of years) of prophesies, the pinnacle about which all redemptive history has been directing our undivided attention.

And here we are at Advent, once again. Our pulse quickens. We laugh more easily. We feel the rustle of anticipation. Something is coming, something wonderful!

Advent and joy

Whatever woes press down upon our lives, whatever affliction, whatever suffering, whatever illness, whatever sadness, whatever grief, whatever loss and loneliness—we long for Advent, for the coming, for the promised Messiah, the Anointed One, the one who alone heals all of our diseases, makes right every wrong, restores every shattered thing, brings us near to God, bears our griefs, our sorrows, and ultimately bears all of our sins in his own body.

In order for there to be such inexpressible joy, joy that cannot be measured or contained, there must first be sorrow, there must be loss, there must be emptiness. Only the lost can be saved. Light only shines clear that dispels darkness. Something about Advent, something about Christmas, awakens the light, rouses us to truth and beauty inexpressible. And yet we feel compelled to express it! And what better way than in carols—timeless, enduring lyrics, composed throughout the ages, set to music that makes not only our voices, but our hearts to sing.

We are tempted to think that it is just the crackling fire and warmth around the hearth while it’s cold outside, that makes for this stupendous season, the feelings and longings that we have during such a season. We are tempted to think it is the twinkling lights, the special sweets, Grandma’s homemade Almond Roca, the good cheer, the ribbons and gifts, the decorations on the tree, the reuniting of families, the easy laughter, the hugs—the cold outside and the glowing warmth inside.

But it must be something much greater than these things. At the end of the evening, at the end of the season when we take all the glittering decorations down, put the tree on the curb to be picked up by garbage collectors, stuff all that beauty and stow the ornaments in boxes in the attic. There has to be something more. It can’t be just sentimental warm fuzzies, a season of good cheer we invent to hold off the frigid winter weather, and the emptiness inside each one of us. And then it’s over.

What’s so special about Christmas?

But what is it? It’s none of these things in and of themselves. It’s not a thing at all. It’s a Person. It’s the coming of the baby in the manger, the “Joy of every longing heart.”

Who doesn’t love babies? But this was no ordinary baby. This infant was like no other. The baby born to Mary in a cattle stall was unique. For millennia, the ancient prophets had foretold that uniqueness, “Israel’s strength and consolation.” This baby was the Son of God, “Born a child and yet a King.”

Irony of ironies, the Creator of the universe had stooped to become a creature, but not any creature; an infant, a baby for whom his parents had to do everything; a baby born to the working poor, a fourteen-year-old virgin mother and a bewildered carpenter father, the most common of people from a nowheresville, backwater town—but an infant who would be the High Priest and the ultimate sacrifice, the Lamb of God who came for one purpose: to fulfil all righteousness and die for the sins of his people. And then to “Rule in all our hearts alone.”

No wonder we sing at Christmas. How could we be silent? No wonder we sing the most grand, transcendent lyric poetry, set to some of the most heavenly music human beings can compose. There is no greater use of poetic lines or musical notes than this. The cosmic lens is focused on this one event, on this one Person, this infant and his thirty-three years of life, ordained from all eternity, the life of Jesus, the Savior of the world. We must sing. If we do not, the very stones will shout his splendor, will sing his praises, will hail him with hosannahs. We must sing!

Jesus was born into a family, a father, a mother, later brothers, sisters. Maybe a family like yours. There’s no greater context in which to sing than in families, our immediate and blood families, and our celestial family, the church and Kingdom of Christ.

What do we sing about? A child born in Bethlehem, the “long expected Jesus,” born to fulfil all righteousness, born to suffer and to die, not for his transgressions, but for ours! Born to rise again, victorious over death and hell and the devil. Born to crush the serpent’s head, born to set his people free, born to give us eternal life. We must sing, sing with full voices, hearts aflame; overflowing with wonder, love, and praise for such a glorious Redeemer, Jesus born of Mary, born in Bethlehem, “Born to set [his] people free!”

For discussion

1.       What are your favorite things about Christmas?

2.       Discuss together as a family how the best Christmas carols are different from some of the silly jiggles sung about Santa Claus and reindeer?

3.       Christmas is many people’s favorite time of year, even ones who claim not to be Christians, yet, on some level, they celebrate Christmas anyway, some even singing carols of which they don’t believe a word. What do your unbelieving neighbors leave out of their celebration of Christmas?

4.       Some Christmas carols are based on Old Testament prophesies of Jesus’ birth. Read and discuss these prophesies written 750 years before Jesus’ birth. Isaiah 7:4 and Micah 5:2.

5.       What are some ways you as a family can share the true meaning of Advent, the coming of Jesus “to save his people from their sins,” with your neighbors?

6.       It’s time to sing a Christmas carol together as a family! “Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus,” was written by Charles Wesley (more about him later) and set to Hyfrydol, a sturdy Welsh tune by Rowland Hugh Prichard.