O come, thou Day-Spring, come and cheer,
Our Spirits by thine Advent here;
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night,
And death’s dark shadows put to flight.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Immanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

I love this beautiful stanza from one of the most beloved Christmas hymns because I love to speak of Jesus and to Jesus as “the light [that] shines in the darkness” (John 1:5). I suppose this is because the more of the world’s darkness I experience and observe, the more I love and long for “the light of the world” to fully and finally swallow up the darkness — the world’s and mine (John 8:12). And I find that singing the words of this beautiful prayer stirs up my love and longing for the Great Light.

It is an ancient longing, our deep desire for spiritual light. It is a longing that has been part of the human experience from the moment our ancestors first became aware that there was such a thing as darkness, such a joy-destroying experience as a dark night of the soul, such a hope-destroying fear as the shadow of death. And in this stanza, we hear an echo of an ancient prophecy of a coming light, the hope of an approaching dawn:

The people that walked in darkness
     have seen a great light:
they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death,
     upon them hath the light shined. (Isaiah 9:2 KJV)

These luminous words of hope were first spoken 2,700 years ago to a fractured Hebrew people who were watching with anguish as a fearful night fell upon them. It looked as though Israel’s lamp would be forever extinguished. But the prophet foresaw that, beyond this fearful night, a great dawn was coming. And its light would disperse their gloomy darkness and destroy death’s power so that its fearful shadow would be cast over them no more. And he told them that the light of this dawn would break brightest upon the region where their national night first fell: “the land beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the nations” (Isaiah 9:1).

Just as the prophet promised, seven centuries later, this great dawn broke with the coming of Jesus, who said, “I have come into the world as light, so that whoever believes in me may not remain in darkness” (John 12:46).

Thou Day-Spring

That’s why, in this Christmas hymn, we address Jesus as the “Day-Spring,” an older English term for sunrise. The author drew from the prophetic blessing Zechariah spoke over his infant son, John (the future Baptist). Listen also for the echo of Isaiah’s messianic prophecy in Zechariah’s words:

And thou, child, shalt be called the prophet of the Highest:
     for thou shalt go before the face of the Lord to prepare his ways;
To give knowledge of salvation unto his people
     by the remission of their sins,
Through the tender mercy of our God;
     whereby the dayspring from on high hath visited us,
To give light to them that sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
     to guide our feet into the way of peace. (Luke 1:76–79 KJV)

The long-awaited, long-longed-for “sun of righteousness” was finally dawning upon Israel, bringing healing in his wings (Malachi 4:2) and multiplied joy to his people (Isaiah 9:3).

But this dawn also brought with it a greater hope: the Sun was rising not merely to dispel the darkness from ethnic Israel but also to draw the nations of the earth to his light (Isaiah 60:3). For one of the heralds of this dawn was a star, a light of the heavens whose silent voice went out across the earth to declare the arrival of Israel’s King — the radiance of the glory of God — to pagan astrologers (Matthew 2:1–10). How gloriously fitting that the birth of the One who would become “a light of revelation to the Gentiles” (Luke 2:32) should be proclaimed to the first Gentiles by a revelatory light.

“Jesus came into the world as light and became the light of the world.”

And so, Jesus came into the world as light and became the light of the world. And his light shone in our darkness. But he did more than shine. He set in motion the eternal destruction of our darkness by taking it upon himself. It even appeared as if the darkness of our sin had extinguished the radiance of the glory of God. But it did not — because it could not — overcome him. At first light on the third day, the Sun of righteousness, the great dayspring of Immanuel, burst again upon the horizon of humanity, and his eternal, healing rays have been spreading throughout the world ever since.

Immanuel to Come

There is yet one more dayspring for which the Israel of God, all who believe in him from every tribe and tongue, wait for with hopeful longing: the second advent of Jesus, “the bright morning star” (Revelation 22:16). And when at last he comes, “night will be no more. [Then we] will need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be [our] light,” and our “lamp [will be] the Lamb” (Revelation 22:5; 21:23). And in his light, we shall only and forever see light (Psalm 36:9).

So, as we wait for the arrival of this eternal morning, we join the great, growing choir of saints past and present in singing,

Rejoice! Rejoice! Immanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.