#UnmuteYourself Day 8 - Unmute
A voice says, “Cry out.”
And I said, “What shall I cry?”
“All people are like grass,
and all their faithfulness is like the flowers of the field."
-Isaiah 40:6
When I was in high school, my church at the time did a Christmas cantata. Everyone who was participating got a CD of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir performing the cantata to practice with. I have the most vivid memory of the start of one of the pieces, with a single tenor singing: “A voice cries out: Prepare the way of the Lord!” It pops into my head with surprising regularity for something I last heard literally years ago.
I learned today in Bible study that this passage from Isaiah was intended to be recited with such feeling and emotion. In modern churches we sort of adopt a somber, steady lector voice when we read, giving gravitas to the words. But we might lose something in that. These words come from the prophet at time of great pain for God’s people, when many had begun to give up hope. It is a call to return to hope, because the Lord has not abandoned God’s people. And not only is it a message of hope, it is an exhortation to all listeners to spread that hope, to proclaim it far and wide so that everyone who needs some hope might receive it. The voice says “Cry out!” And then equips us with the message we are meant to pass on.
The grass metaphor here is interesting. I see it working on a few ways. Grass is a hardy thing, when taken care of. It may become dry and brittle over the dark, cold winter, but in the spring it bursts forth into fresh growth and vibrancy. It does this year after year. So too do the people of God go through seasons: Dark times with 20,000 dying a day from a pandemic while we are all separated from our loved ones in order to keep the death toll from exploding even more. I take great heart in the news coming out about the several vaccines coming up for approval. And also in the knowledge that this, too, is a cycle like the cycle of the grass. We will see spring again and be able to bloom like flowers.
In the meantime, we still have God. We are like the Israelites in exile in that we don’t aways feel God’s presence (the true meaning of exile), but that doesn’t mean God has abandoned us. God is the spark of life that urges the grass to spring forth and the flowers to bloom.
So where does “unmute” come in? I wonder if anyone else is like me. I’ve been lucky enough to be able to work from home, with my husband and cat so I have the physical contact and love I need. I have been able to access Trikafta for nearly a full year and it’s cleared my lungs and given me all kinds of hope and IdeasTM that I never would have considered before. In other words, I’m fairly happy, as much as one can be in a mass casualty situation. But I find myself not really wanting to talk about that; it feels insensitive to be like “well I am doing fine” when so many are hurting, struggling or dying.
Maybe the message for me, and any of you who might be in a similar spot, is that it’s okay to talk about your joy. I can unmute to talk about the good things, the hope I’ve found. The world needs all of the extra hope and joy it can get. There’s a way to spread the hope sensitively, as an encouragement and a reminder of love and goodness existing even in these times. Especially if that hope is rooted in God and what God has done and will continue to do.
And I said, “What shall I cry?”
“All people are like grass,
and all their faithfulness is like the flowers of the field."
-Isaiah 40:6
When I was in high school, my church at the time did a Christmas cantata. Everyone who was participating got a CD of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir performing the cantata to practice with. I have the most vivid memory of the start of one of the pieces, with a single tenor singing: “A voice cries out: Prepare the way of the Lord!” It pops into my head with surprising regularity for something I last heard literally years ago.
I learned today in Bible study that this passage from Isaiah was intended to be recited with such feeling and emotion. In modern churches we sort of adopt a somber, steady lector voice when we read, giving gravitas to the words. But we might lose something in that. These words come from the prophet at time of great pain for God’s people, when many had begun to give up hope. It is a call to return to hope, because the Lord has not abandoned God’s people. And not only is it a message of hope, it is an exhortation to all listeners to spread that hope, to proclaim it far and wide so that everyone who needs some hope might receive it. The voice says “Cry out!” And then equips us with the message we are meant to pass on.
The grass metaphor here is interesting. I see it working on a few ways. Grass is a hardy thing, when taken care of. It may become dry and brittle over the dark, cold winter, but in the spring it bursts forth into fresh growth and vibrancy. It does this year after year. So too do the people of God go through seasons: Dark times with 20,000 dying a day from a pandemic while we are all separated from our loved ones in order to keep the death toll from exploding even more. I take great heart in the news coming out about the several vaccines coming up for approval. And also in the knowledge that this, too, is a cycle like the cycle of the grass. We will see spring again and be able to bloom like flowers.
In the meantime, we still have God. We are like the Israelites in exile in that we don’t aways feel God’s presence (the true meaning of exile), but that doesn’t mean God has abandoned us. God is the spark of life that urges the grass to spring forth and the flowers to bloom.
So where does “unmute” come in? I wonder if anyone else is like me. I’ve been lucky enough to be able to work from home, with my husband and cat so I have the physical contact and love I need. I have been able to access Trikafta for nearly a full year and it’s cleared my lungs and given me all kinds of hope and IdeasTM that I never would have considered before. In other words, I’m fairly happy, as much as one can be in a mass casualty situation. But I find myself not really wanting to talk about that; it feels insensitive to be like “well I am doing fine” when so many are hurting, struggling or dying.
Maybe the message for me, and any of you who might be in a similar spot, is that it’s okay to talk about your joy. I can unmute to talk about the good things, the hope I’ve found. The world needs all of the extra hope and joy it can get. There’s a way to spread the hope sensitively, as an encouragement and a reminder of love and goodness existing even in these times. Especially if that hope is rooted in God and what God has done and will continue to do.