An ancient voice spoke: Drop down dew, ye heavens, from above and let clouds rain down the just. Let the earth be opened and bud forth a savior and let justice spring up. We are parched, without water, I cried we have no water, no food for ourselves or our sisters desolation, destruction in the holy places wrought by our own hands spread abroad as lies, as hate and violence and shame the very thing despised, the bread from heaven, still drops as dew upon the earth as manna in the desert Cry! What shall I cry? all flesh is grass we wither and die for lack of dew. We need wise forgiving bread and water poured from above to cleanse us shore up our crumbling walls do not let your saints labor in vain O Lord do not let your saints labor in vain
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So, it looks like most of you didn't get this post, and a commentary might help. I wrote this in reaction to the violence and unrest in many parts of the world, and the Olympic travesty. I will paste the commentary and slightly changed poem below.
In a meditation last night words from Isaiah came, in connection with all the foment in the world today. Israel and Palestine, Russia and the Ukraine, England, Italy, and France, especially France.
The scriptural references are from verses in Isaiah that foretell the gift of a savior, using the metaphor of dew. "Drop down dew ye heavens from above" and are part of the Church's celebration of Advent. Last Sunday's Old Testament reading and Psalm talk about God's promise of bread from heaven, which came like dew in the morning, then dried into manna. These in turn foreshadow Jesus, the true bread from heaven in the Gospel of John, chapter 6.
Dew can symbolize the waters of repentance and new life at baptism. In Isaiah it foreshadows the promise of the nativity where Jesus emptied himself, taking on the form of a slave, being born in the likeness of men (Philippians 2), but also manna from heaven, the bread of life.
That which was mocked was not defiled, for God cannot be defiled. Those who mock defile themselves. For that reason we need to plead for mercy, dropping like a gentle rain upon the earth beneath.
An ancient voice speaks:
Drop down dew, ye heavens, from above
and let clouds rain down the just.
Let the earth be opened
and bud forth a savior
and let justice spring up.
We are parched, without
water, I cry,
we have no water, no food
for ourselves or our sisters
desolation, destruction
in the holy places
wrought by our own hands
spread abroad as lies,
as hate and violence
and shame
The thing despised by them,
the eucharist,
still drops as dew
upon the earth
as manna
in the desert
as bread from heaven.
Cry!
What shall I cry?
all flesh is grass
we wither and die
for lack of dew.
We need
wise forgiving bread
and water poured
from above
the pure anointing
running down our cheeks
in gladness
to cleanse us
to repair our crumbling walls
Do not let your saints labor in vain
O Lord,
Rouse your power and come.
**The desert is the conflict between Israel and Palestine, the Polish singers are for the Ukraine, and the mockers of the Eucharist you can guess.