O Oriens
O Rising Sun, splendour of eternal light; come, and enlighten those who dwell in darkness and in the shadow of death.
O Oriens, splendor lucis aeternae, et sol justitiae; veni, et illumina sedentes in tenebris et umbra mortis.
“O Rising Sun, splendour of eternal light; come, and enlighten those who dwell in darkness and in the shadow of death.”
During the Nazi occupation of Rome, covert excavations were carried out beneath St Peter’s basilica. The goal was to find the tomb of St Peter. Tradition had always held that the basilica had been built on the site of Peter’s tomb, but there was only one way to know for sure. In order to evade detection, workers resorted to using hand tools exclusively, and only tunneling at night. The search for Peter’s tomb is a marvelous story in itself. Many other significant finds were unearthed after being hidden for nearly 2,000 years. Among them was a mausoleum with a detailed mosaic ceiling, dated to the 3rd century AD but had since been covered over by Emperor Constantine’s 4th century basilica in honour of the Apostle Peter, before the present building was constructed 1,000 years later. The site of the Vatican was once an enormous network of graves, Pagan and Christian alike, which had been covered over ever since. On the ceiling of this particular mausoleum, set in a sea of brilliant gold mosaic, was a figure riding a chariot. He was beardless, and bore a halo, with rays curiously arranged into the shape of a cross. To the unsuspecting eye, this would have carried no hidden meaning. Yet, this figure has come to be considered as a Christian reimagining of sol invictus, the sun god of the Romans.
This connection is solidified by the testimony of the anonymous 4th century author of De Solstitiis Et Aequinoctiis, who writes in the conclusion;
“Our Lord, too, is born in the month of December ... the eighth before the calends of January [25 December] ... But they [the pagans] call it the ‘birthday of the invincible one’ (Invictus). But who then is as invincible as our Lord who defeated the death he suffered? Or if they say that this is the birthday of the sun, well He Himself is the Sun of Justice.”
Sol invictus could become a “type” for the figure of Christ, at least for the Christians of Rome. In this way, the cultural understanding of a pagan figure could be “baptised” and receive a deeper Christified significance, sol iustitiae, while allowing Christians to concretely and publicly express their beliefs in an otherwise hostile environment. It is also a way, by means of parallels are pre-figurements, for Pagans to be drawn out from mere shadows of the truth towards the fullness of light. St Paul’s preaching in Athens is another example of this approach to evangelisation employed by the early Church.
The earliest Christian communities often found themselves in immensely diverse but pagan societies. Cities like Antioch, Alexandria, and Rome. It was the very same Roman Empire governing these cities which created the perfect conditions for the spreading of the Gospel, from its furthest outposts to its very heart. Freedom of movement meant that ideas could spread as quickly as Roman citizens could travel. Christians seem to have coexisted with their fellow citizens, whether Pagan or Jewish, in such a way that the followers of Christ were almost invisible to an empire of such immense scale, at least for the first 200 years. From the 2nd century Epistle to Diognetus, we know that the Christians did not noticeably distinguish themselves from others by categories of nationality, language, or even customs. At the same time, they shared with their fellow men the profoundly human desire to express their beliefs, but instead took elements from the cultures in which they lived and adapted those pre-existing ideas and images to suit this purpose. Their sarcophagi, frescoes, and basilicas all had non-Christian origins yet have come to be synonymous with our ideas of early Christian art. This of course applies not just to art and architecture, but to philosophy and theology too.
This O antiphon carries immense theological significance and draws from the most ancient of Christian beliefs and practices. Like the others, it is addressed to Christ Our Saviour, with a messianic title. O Oriens is usually translated as “rising sun” or “radiant dawn” (the title of the glorious setting of this antiphon by Sir James MacMillan). This should come as no surprise when we consider our use of the word “orient” to mean east, from which the sun rises. For believers, however, a different “son” had risen in the East, at dawn on the first day of the week. It was then that the women went to the tomb “when the sun had risen” (Mark 16:2). From the Apologia of St Justin Martyr, we know that the first Christians gathered on a fixed day to celebrate the Eucharist for that reason, and the 3rd century text Didascalia Apostolorum, or “The Teaching of the Apostles”, tell us;
“For it is required that you pray towards the east, as knowing that which is written; Give ye glory to God, who rideth upon the heaven of heavens towards the east”.
We have the testimony of the early Church itself that the east, or oriens, had great importance for worship even in its nascent years. It is not without precedence that the first Christians would want to pray in this way. The prophet Malachi provides the biblical source of this Messianic title of sol iustitiae, or “Sun of Justice”; “unto you that fear my name, the Sun of Justice shall arise, and health in his wings” (Malachi 4:2). The final phrase of the antiphon comes from the Canticle of Zechariah, the Benedictus, in Gospel of St Luke; “When the day shall dawn upon us from on high, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death” (Luke 2:79). In a single antiphon, we see a snapshot of the rich tapestry that is our liturgy, drawing from the Old Testament, the New, and even beyond.
On our Advent journey, we experience the literal darkness of the season and the spiritual yearning of those who remain in the darkness for the coming of their Saviour, who comes to free them from the shadow of death by means of his light. When we consider that this antiphon is prayed at the Magnificat during Vespers, the meaning of O Oriens becomes more pronounced in our minds as we imagine the cold, dark evenings of winter, punctuated with the sung praises of countless Christians who have come before us. In this way our hearts and voices are united with those who have always cried out from the darkness of the shadow of death, as we await the dawn of eternal life. Just as we believe the sun will rise in the east at dawn, so does our faith in the return of the “Sun of Justice” give us hope today.
Fr Aidan Matheson