Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence

When we open our hymnals to sing, we should quickly glance at the top of the page to see the topical section of the hymn in which it is found (in this case: Advent).  And then we should also quickly glance at the bottom of the page to see the origin of the words and music, and at least note the dates.  In the case of this advent hymn, “Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence,” it is one of the earliest Christian hymns still in common usage.  In fact it may well be the very oldest!

How wonderful that we still have such hymns as this from the earliest centuries of Christendom.  We are all too prone to view Christianity from our contemporary perspective, forgetting that it has been shaped by great theological reflection and ecclesiastical development for almost two thousand years.   Our faith is much larger and expansive than just our own personal experience in our local congregation during the recent decades of our lives.  The same is true of creeds like the Apostles’ Creed and the Nicene Creed, which we ought to be using regularly in our worship, in part so as to maintain a connection with the greater “communion of the saints.”

The roots of this hymn date back to the fourth century as a chant (not originally a hymn in the modern sense) and is based on the Greek text, “Prayer of the Cherubic Hymn,” in the ancient Liturgy of St. James.  That liturgy was once thought to have been the work of James, the half-brother of Jesus (thus the name given to it).  Most now believe it was created under Cyril of Jerusalem (c. 347) as a preparation for the celebration of the Lord’s Supper as the bread and wine were brought to the front of the room where worshippers had gathered.  It may even go as far back as 275 AD, to a time before the widespread acceptance of Christianity under Emperor Constantine.

It conveys the spirit of Isaiah 6 and Revelation 4.  The Byzantine Rite later replaced it with the Divine Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom.   However, churches that still use the Liturgy of St. James as their principal Liturgy, such as the Syriac Orthodox Church, the Syriac Catholic Church, the Syro-Malankara Catholic Church, and the Maronite Church, sing the hymn “Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence” regularly.  In these rituals, as the priest brings in the elements for the communion service, the congregation sings this hymn to God.  Here is the text of the liturgy as it would be read by the celebrant, suggesting the attitude of reverence one should experience when entering the Holy of Holies.

We remember the sky, the earth and the sea, the sun and the moon, the stars and all creation both rational and irrational, the angels and archangels, powers, mights, dominations, principalities, thrones, the many-eyed Cherubim who say those words of David: ‘Praise the Lord with me.’ We remember the Seraphim, whom Isaias saw in spirit standing around the throne of God, who with two wings cover their faces, with two their feet and with two fly; who say: ‘Holy, holy, holy, Lord of Sabaoth.’ We also say these divine words of the Seraphim, so as to take part in the hymns of the heavenly host.

Whilethe hymn originated in association with the Eucharistic service, it is usually found today in the section of hymns about Advent.  The references to the Lord’s Supper are unmistakable.  In stanza two, we sing of Jesus’ body and blood, which He gives as heavenly food to all the faithful.  But the most dominant theme is certainly that of the incarnation.  In stanza one, Christ is God who has descended to earth.  In stanza two, He is the King of kings, born of Mary; the Lord of lords in human vesture.  Then in stanzas three and four, we see Him in glory adored by seraphim and cherubim veiling their faces in His presence (Isaiah 6).  What a marvelous way to approach the Lord’s Table, and also to enter into the Advent season!  Because of this double reference, it serves well for churches that observe the Lord’s Supper in their Christmas Eve service.

The song has come into our English hymnals as a result of the Oxford Movement in England at a time when many of the early texts were being translated from Greek and Latin.  It was Gerard Moultrie (1829-1885), an Anglican priest, who has given us the 1864 English translation (or actually more of a paraphrase) from the Greek, which has now been accepted into common use in our hymnals.  It first appeared that year in Orby Shipley’s collection, “Lyra Eucharistica.”  Moultrie was educated at Exeter College, Oxford, and served numerous times as a public chaplain / schoolmaster as well as a priest at several English parishes.  He wrote thirty-eight hymns, of which “Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence” was to be his most enduring.

Among the best qualities in a fine hymn are the clear allusions to Scripture found in the text.  This comes from a thorough knowledge of the Word of God by the author and will be quickly recognized by modern singers who are as well acquainted with Scripture as was the writer.  In the case of “Let All Mortal Flesh,” those allusions are numerous.

In stanza 1, we sing of Jesus’ incarnation.  This is one of the greatest mysteries of biblical theology, that God both could and would become a man in the person of the second person of the Holy Trinity.  Because it was man who sinned, only man could take the place of sinners to accomplish our redemption.  Without giving up any of His essential deity, Jesus added to Himself a truly human nature from the time of His conception in the womb of the virgin Mary.  This fact causes us to bow in amazing wonder.  Keeping silence before God is a way of showing reverence (Habakkuk 2:20), which is how we begin our song, standing before Him with “fear and trembling.”  We go on to “ponder” these heavenly mysteries rather than letting our mind lingers with “earthly-minded” trivialities, setting our minds on things above (Colossians 3:1-2).  And what we find is a worshipful love of the one who has come “with blessing in His hand.”  This is Christ, our God, who has descended not just into our world, and into a manger, but into the womb of Mary!  He was born of a woman (Philippians 2:5-11), and legitimately demands “our full homage.”

Let all mortal flesh keep silence, And with fear and trembling stand;
Ponder nothing earthly-minded, For with blessing in His hand,
Christ our God to earth descendeth, Our full homage to demand.

In stanza 2, we sing more specifically of Jesus’ human nature.  Once again we recall biblical passages like Galatians 4:4, that He was born of a woman.  How amazing that the “King of kings” and “Lord of lords” (Revelation 19:16), the one who is older than the earth, because He made the earth and all that is in it (John 1:2-3), would dwell among us as one of us.  He came “in human vesture,” with body and blood (Luke 24:39) to give Himself as a ransom for us (Matthew 20:28).  Now in the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, He gives us “His own self for heav’nly food” (John 6:56).  And in giving Himself, we find (in the words of the successor to the pulpit of John Know in Edinburgh) that it’s not that we, “the faithful,” get a better Christ than in other times of worship than the sacrament, but that we get Christ better!

King of kings, yet born of Mary, As of old on earth He stood,
Lord of lords, in human vesture, In the body and the blood;
He will give to all the faithful His own self for heav’nly food.

In stanza 3, we sing of Jesus’ glorious power over evil.  That power has led to a victory that is celebrated in the heavens now, and will be the joyous theme song of saints and angels for all eternity, singing “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain” (Revelation 5:8-14).  What a vast host that number must be, “rank on rank” of the heavenly host, a number no man can number.  We will one day stand and sing with them of the glory of the Lamb!  That heavenly chorus is right now acknowledging His greatness, even as a host of them did over Bethlehem’s skies on the night of His birth (Luke 2:13-14).  As the sky was literally filled with angelic light on that night, the symbolism is inescapable.  The “Light of light” had descended “from realms of endless day,” coming as the Light of the World to bring everlasting daylight into this dark, sin-filled world (John 8:12).  And in so doing, He has guaranteed us that “the pow’rs of hell” will surely vanish, even as the darkness of our nights vanishes each morning with the dawn of the sun.  He has vanquished the very powers of hell (John 1:4-5), so that death is no longer capable of holding us in its grasp.

Rank on rank the host of heaven Spreads its vanguard on the way,
As the Light of light descendeth From the realms of endless day,
That the pow’rs of hell may vanish As the darkness clears away.

In stanza 4, we sing of Jesus’ worthiness to receive the praise given Him by the hosts of heaven.  Here is the clear reference to the vision given to the prophet Isaiah, recorded in His call to ministry in chapter six of his prophecy (Isaiah 6:3).  There, as well as in Revelation 5:11-12, as we read, we envision the sight and sound of “the six-winged seraph,” lauding His praise with their hymn, “Holy, Holy, Holy is the LORD God Almighty; heaven and earth are filled with His glory.”  In this hymn, faithful to Scripture, the seraphim are joined by “Cherubim with sleepless eye,” never ceasing to sing to Him, as they “veil their faces to the presence.”  In the hymn, as in Revelation 19:1, their song is an eternal “Alleluia,” in which we will delight to join our voices to those of that vast multitude.

At His feet the six-winged seraph, Cherubim with sleepless eye,
Veil their faces to the presence, As with ceaseless voice they cry:
“Alleluia, Alleluia; Alleluia, Lord Most High!”

The traditional tune (PICARDY) used with “Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence” is a seventeenth century medieval French carol melody that was included in “Chansons populaires des provinces de France,” Volume 4, published in 1860.  The modern harmony is taken from “The English Hymnal” of 1906, and was composed by Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872-1958). 

Here is a beautiful arrangement of the song for organ, orchestra, choir, and congregation by Chad Fothergill, as performed in the glorious gothic chapel of Duke University.