A few years ago I was preparing for a sermon, and the only thing that came to my heart was the words that I share with you below. That was long before any hint of coronavirus, but there were plenty of global fears and local worries then too. It is a poem of hope, inspired by Isaiah 35. It was a most unusual sermon (the only poetic sermon I've ever written) and I'm quite sure the congregation was glad that I didn't often write my own poetry. Nonetheless, one of that day's hearers of the sermon requested a copy to share with the men in a prison ministry that he visited with each week, so I pray God was present that day. I don't know what else God might have done with it, if anything, and I don't know what God might do with it now. It's been on my heart, however, so I offer it to you with the belief that God might speak to someone through God's word recorded in Isaiah and now proclaimed in this way. Maybe as we find ourselves isolated with no definitive end to the restrictions on our lives, we too might hear a whisper of God's grace.
Some notes about the poem: I've never studied poetry. Technical poetry folks will find deviations from proper meter and punctuation. Please ignore those. The repeated refrain seems alternately too much repetition, but then I think it's also necessary, calling to mind the loud and persistent chorus of discouragement and cynicism that so often fills the world. If you find yourself starting to skip over the refrain, in the same way that we stop listening to things we think we don't need to heed, pay attention near the end to where the refrain starts to change.
Blessings.
Isaiah
35
1 The desert and the parched land will be
glad; the wilderness will rejoice and blossom. Like the crocus, 2 it will burst into bloom; it
will rejoice greatly and shout for joy.
The
glory of Lebanon will be given to it, the splendor of Carmel and Sharon; they will see the glory of the LORD, the splendor of
our God.
4 say to those with fearful
hearts, "Be strong, do not fear; your God will come, he will come with vengeance; with divine retribution he will come to save you."
5 Then will the eyes of the
blind be opened and the ears of the deaf unstopped. 6 Then will the lame leap like a deer, and the mute tongue shout for joy. Water will gush forth in the
wilderness and streams in the desert.
7 The burning sand will become
a pool, the thirsty ground bubbling springs. In the haunts where jackals
once lay,
grass and reeds and papyrus will grow.
Aint nothing gonna grow here
Aint nothing
gonna grow here.
Aint nothing
gonna grow here.
Aint nothing
gonna grow here,
That’s what
people say.
I’ve been
here some fifty years;
seen some good days but mostly tears.
Folks talk big, but
mostly fears
beneath the surface lay.
Aint nothing gonna grow
here.
Aint nothing gonna grow
here
Aint nothing gonna grow
here
That’s what people say.
We tried sharin’, it didn’t
work out.
We tried givin’, it didn’t
amount
To much more than a
withering sprout:
Couldn’t break this hard
dry clay.
Aint nothing gonna grow
here
Aint nothing gonna grow
here
Aint nothing gonna grow
here
That’s what people say.
So long ago they had a
dream:
"Build a church for the
kids to see
How God’s provided for
you and me!"
But old dreams are
child’s play.
Aint nothing gonna grow
here
Aint nothing gonna grow
here
Aint nothing gonna grow
here
That’s what people say.
Grandma used to run this
place
With God and Grandpa
they could face
Any changes to time or
space!
but that was a different
day.
Aint nothing gonna grow
here
Aint nothing gonna grow
here
Aint nothing gonna grow
here
That’s what people say.
"Oh how I wish that it
weren’t true!"
"Been on my knees like
you told me to do!"
"Prayed so many words
till my face is blue!"
I beg, “Is God hearing
what I pray?”
Aint nothing gonna grow
here
Aint nothing gonna grow
here
Aint nothing gonna grow
here
That’s what people say.
My hands are weak, my
knees won’t stand.
The people don’t care
for God’s commands.
Neither do I see much of
God’s plan,
And my soul so dry it
lay.
But then in the distant
scorching blue
A faint aberration, then
I see two
Small gray wisps on the horizon!They move
dust slightly stirred
from its place.
The smallest gray hint a
bit closer grows
Taller, too, and wider it
flows.
From a distant cloud a
breeze hot blows
Some air moving against
my face
But too early aloud to
name.
The breeze, if you can call
it that, does grow.
Now it’s more of a wind as feigns to blow.
Still not enough for
hope to flow
From a dry heart and two
legs lame.
The wisps now clouds are
towering high.
No longer distant, they
fill the sky,
And raindrops three,
then four then five
Tap and splatter on hard
baked clay.
Aint nothing’ gonna grow
here
Aint nothing gonna grow
here
Aint nothing gonna grow
here
That’s what people say
The parched ground first
rejects the gift.
It shrugs off the water,
which runs into rifts.
“Depart from me!” But
it’s as if
The rain is here to
stay.
While much runs off,
still more sinks down
Between the cracks below
the ground;
And hopelessness begins
to drown
As the dry earth feels
water play.
Aint nothing gonna grow
here
Aint nothing gonna grow
here
Aint nothing gonna grow
here,
IS THAT what people say?
Just beneath the surface,
long
Dry and parched, without
a song,
Now awakened now among
A multitude asleep did
lay.
Aint nothing gonna grow
here
Aint nothing gonna grow
here
Aint nothing gonna grow
here
Words that had their day!
Seeds once dormant once
encased
Now break their shells
and in their place
A transformation with
great haste
Is happening today.
Aint nothing gonna grow
here
Aint nothing gonna grow
here
Aint nothing gonna grow
here
"Empty words!" the people
say.
The hard packed earth
now wet with rain
Makes way for green
chutes shooting plain
Up from the earth no
longer chained
By dry, parched,
hopeless clay.
The chutes rich green,
they climb, they grow
And out come leaves and
flowers show.
(And with the sun and
rain) to know
The purpose for which
they were made
Aint nothing gonna grow here
Aint nothing gonna grow
here
Aint nothing gonna grow
here
Never again proclaimed!
For God has promised and
come through
That life would come
again anew
All that was hopeless
now is through
For God is sending rain.
Aint nothing gonna grow
here?
Watch what God can grow
here!
Yes watch what God can
grow here:
You’ll never be the
same.
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