Rain Down Gently Upon Us: An Advent Reflection by Cynthia Bourgeault

Dear Wisdom friends,

Two days before Christmas and I am sitting out here in my hermitage on Eagle Island, where I managed to arrive and get myself settled in just before the winds turned north and bitterly cold. If all goes well, I will be here into next week.

I am working strongly with two items: the “Rorate Coeli,” that ancient Gregorian Advent chant, plus the Gurdjieff Movement 39. Together they circumscribe a space whose qualities are repentance, comfort, and simple, unwavering presence. There is a distinctly feminine quality to the presence, which began with the surprise “guest appearance” of Mary at our Advent retreat last week, her tenderness palpable.

The repentance on our collective human plate right now can be no less than deep remorse of conscience. The verses of the Rorate Coeli (I’m singing in it in the New Camaldoli version) plunge us right into the heart of Old Testament lament and confession. Designed to be sung successively in each of the four weeks of Advent, they lead us on a journey from despair (“your holy cities are a desert, Jerusalem a desolation: your holy and beautiful house where our ancestors praised you”) to confession (“we have sinned and are as unclean thing; our iniquities, like the wind have taken us away; you have hid your face and consumed us because of our iniquitie”), to acknowledgement of God’s absolute sovereignty (“I even I am the Lord, and there is none that can deliver out of my hand”) to comfort and the promise of forgiveness and restitution (“Comfort, comfort ye my people, my salvation will not tarry; I have blotted out as a thick cloud your transgressions; fear not, for I will save you”). I am telescoping it, of course, singing two verses in the morning and two in the evening. But of course, like all good tunes, they keep singing themselves inside me throughout the day.

It is amazing how cleansing this somehow feels, and how the Mercy flows in even as these ancient words of remorse flow out.

Movement 39, Gurdjieff’s last, is utterly simple—simply six repetitive chords, accompanied by four gestures, rotating sequential through the centers: thinking, feeling, sensing. And yet it speaks of an utter unflappability, a steady “I AM” that will not be shaken. Period. I have the feeling that if I were to die in the midst of this movement, the movement would still carry on, lifting me gently like Peter across the final hand-stretch of the water I have been trying to walk on all my life.

Something like this is a quality we are all going to need, planetarily, to get through these next few weeks, but we are not walking alone. The hand is already outstretched; all that remains is to receive it in humility and gratitude, and with courage.

And so I out here am alone—sorta. Rafe once told me that “When you’re a true hermit, you’re ever alone.” Rafe is here now, of course, and the Blessed Virgin continues to slide in and out, and I carry each of you in my heart as I explore this utterly virginal turf, where hope against hope I hear the tumbler locks gently slipping into place and the sense that, as in those final verses of the Rorate Coeli, our cry has been heard and help is on its way.

It gets dark by 4:00 here at solstice in downeast Maine. The Advent candles glow very brightly.

My love and blessing to each one of you. Hold fast the hope.

Cynthia

***

Rorate Caeli Chant

Movement 39

This is Cynthia’s own pairing of psalm 85 (of Babette’s Feast fame) with the traditional Advent Gregorian chant hymn Rorate Coeli. The whole image is of the bare and stony ground being revived and moistened with heavenly compassion and justice. 

Cynthia chanting Rorate Coeli with Psalm 85

Rorate caeli desuper, et nubes pluant justum.

O Lord You once favored Your land and revived the fortunes of Jacob.
You forgave the guilt of Your people and covered all their sins.
You averted all Your rage and calmed the heat of Your anger.

Rorate caeli desuper, et nubes pluant justum.

Revive us O God our Helper. Put an end to Your grievance against us.
Will You be angry with us forever? Will Your anger never cease?
Will You not restore again our life that Your people may rejoice in You.
Let us see O Lord Your mercy and give us Your saving help.

Rorate caeli desuper, et nubes pluant justum.

I will hear what the Lord God has to say. A voice that speaks of peace.
Peace for His people and His friends and those who turn to Him in their hearts.
His help is near for those who fear Him and His glory will dwell in our land.

Rorate caeli desuper, et nubes pluant justum.

Mercy and faithfulness have met. Justice and peace have embraced.
Faithfulness shall spring from the earth and justice look down from heaven.
The Lord will make us prosper and our earth shall yield its fruit.
Justice shall march before Him, and peace shall follow His steps.

Rorate caeli desuper, et nubes pluant justum.

Rorate caeli desuper, et nubes pluant justum.


This is the traditional Rorate Coeli

Rain down gently upon us, you heavens above and let the clouds weep justice

Do not be angry, O Lord, nor remember iniquity forever:
your holy cities are a desert, Sion is a desert, Jerusalem a desolation:
your holy and beautiful house where our ancestors praised you.

Rain down gently upon us, you heavens above and let the clouds weep justice

We have sinned are are as an unclean thing, and we all do fade as a leaf:
our iniquities, like the wind, have taken us away:
you have hid your face from us and have consumed us because of our iniquities.

Rain down gently upon us, you heavens above and let the clouds weep justice

You are my witnesses says the Lord, and my servant whom I have chosen:
that you may know me and believe in me; I, even I, am the Lord, and beside me there is no Savior:
and there is none that can deliver out of my hand.

Rain down gently upon us, you heavens above and let the clouds weep justice

Comfort ye, comfort ye, my people, my salvation shall not tarry:
I have blotted out as a thick cloud your transgressions.
Fear not, for I will save you; for I am the Lord, your God, the Holy One of Israel, your redeemer.

***

Rorate caeli desuper, et nubes pluant justum.

Ne irascaris Domine, ne ultra memineris iniquitatis:
ecce civitas Sancti facta est deserta: Sion deserta facta est: Jerusalem desolata est:
domus sanctificationis tuae et gloriae tuae, ubi laudaverunt te patres nostri.

Rorate caeli desuper, et nubes pluant justum.

Peccavimus, et facti sumus tamquam immundus nos, et cecidimus quasi folium universi:
et iniquitates nostrae quasi ventus abstulerunt nos:
abscondisti faciem tuam a nobis, et allisisti nos in manu iniquitatis nostrae.

Rorate caeli desuper, et nubes pluant justum.

Vide Domine afflictionem populi tui, et mitte quem missurus es:
emitte Agnum dominatorem terrae, de Petra deserti ad montem filiae Sion:
ut auferat ipse iugum captivitatis nostrae.

Rorate caeli desuper, et nubes pluant justum.

Consolamini, consolamini, popule meus:
cito veniet salus tua: quare maerore consumeris, quia innovavit te dolor:
Salvabo te, noli timere, ego enim sum Dominus Deus tuus, Sanctus Israel, Redemptor tuus.

Rorate caeli desuper, et nubes pluant justum.