I was reminded of the Rorate Caeli hymn on Tuesday–the Old Testament reading for the day begins, “Console my people, console them,” where the Lord is telling his prophet Isaiah to declare the return of the Lord:

Here is the Lord coming with power,

his arm subduing all things to him.

The prize of his victory is with him,

his trophies all go before him.

He is like a shepherd feeding his flock,

gathering lambs in his arms,

holding them against his breast

and leading to their rest the mother ewes.

The Rorate hymn is both the Israelites’ response to this–an acknowledgement of their great sin and a cry of repentance–and, in its last stanza, the Lord’s crying out to them in order that they might have hope for His eventual return. Probably one of my favourite texts. I remember once when I sang it to a friend, reading the translations after every stanza, stanzas one through three made her face fall–quite rightly because they are quite sorrowful indeed. But such sorrow, I think, even in our lives, allows us to really apprehend the mercy of God, who came, humbled in the form of a child, even while we were sinners, in order to illumine our dark night.

Latin	English
Roráte caéli désuper, et núbes plúant jústum.	Drop down ye heavens, from above, and let the skies pour down righteousness:
Ne irascáris Dómine, ne ultra memíneris iniquitátis: ecce cívitas Sáncti fácta est desérta: Síon desérta fácta est: Jerúsalem desoláta est: dómus sanctificatiónis túæ et glóriæ túæ, ubi laudavérunt te pátres nóstri.	Be not wroth very sore, O Lord, neither remember iniquity for ever: the holy cities are a wilderness, Sion is a wilderness, Jerusalem a desolation: our holy and our beautiful house, where our fathers praised thee.
Peccávimus, et fácti súmus tamquam immúndus nos, et cecídimus quasi fólium univérsi: et iniquitátes nóstræ quasi véntus abstulérunt nos: abscondísti faciem túam a nóbis, et allisísti nos in mánu iniquitátis nóstræ.	We have sinned, and are as an unclean thing, and we all do fade as a leaf: and our iniquities, like the wind, have taken us away; thou hast hid thy face from us: and hast consumed us, because of our iniquities.
Víde Dómine afflictiónem pópuli túi, et mítte quem missúrus es: emítte Agnum dominatórem térræ, de Pétra desérti ad móntem fíliæ Síon: ut áuferat ípse júgum captivitátis nóstræ.	Behold, O Lord, the affliction of thy people, and send forth Him who is to come; send forth the Lamb, the ruler of the earth, from Petra of the desert to the mount of the daughter of Sion: that He may take away the yoke of our captivity.
Consolámini, consolámini, pópule méus: cito véniet sálus túa: quare mæróre consúmeris, quia innovávit te dólor? Salvábo te, nóli timére, égo enim sum Dóminus Déus túus, Sánctus Israël, Redémptor túus.	Comfort ye, comfort ye, my people, my salvation shall not tarry: why wilt thou waste away in sadness? why hath sorrow seized thee? Fear not, for I will save thee: for I am the Lord thy God, the Holy One of Israel, thy Redeemer.