Tonight I was reading through Isaiah.
When I look at the poetry of the prophet I find three different sorts of poetry, each with a different emotional tone. The prophets sing three different songs.
The first song is prophetic rage and indignation. This is the cry found throughout Isaiah 13-23.
The second song is grief and lamentation, an expression of sorrow in the face of suffering and loss. Sackcloth and ashes. Isaiah 3 or 21, for example.
The third song is a song of hope. This is the prophetic turn we see in Isaiah 40.1, where after all the anger and sorrow a song of hope breaks out, "Comfort, comfort my people". This is the poetry of Ezekiel's vision of the Valley of Dry Bones. Can these dead things live again? Yes, they can.
I was struck in that reading by a thought: We all have a natural poetry. Some of these songs we find easier to sing than others. The prophets among us are wonderful at the poetry of rage and rebuke. Other Christians -- like myself -- are good at grief; we're more sad than angry. And finally, there are the still other Christians who are good at seeing hope where others don't.
What's important, of course, is to sing the song you were born to sing.
But there's more: While you should embrace your natural song, you need to become skilled at singing all the songs. If you only sings songs of hope, your faith will become trivial and superficial, disconnected from the injustice and suffering in the world. And if you only sing songs of anger or sorrow, you'll burn yourself out or fail to offer encouragement to those who most need to hear it. I've come to recognize this among the poor or those in prison. I came into those settings singing my natural song -- sorrow -- but they've wanted to hear some hopeful tunes. So I've learned to sing hopeful songs. It's not natural for me, but I'm getting better at it.
This is what struck me in reading Isaiah. We all have a natural song. Embrace it and sing it out loud.
But we also need to learn to sing all of the songs if our faith is to be vibrant and a blessing to others.
Immature Christians tend to sing only one song, ever. Anger over and over. Or lament over and over. Or praise over and over.
Mature Christians, by contrast, are always the best poets, skilled at singing all the songs and adapting the rhyme and meter of faith to the season and situation.
So if you want to be a better Christian, work to become a better poet. Prophets, after all -- those who speak for God -- sing all three.
When I look at the poetry of the prophet I find three different sorts of poetry, each with a different emotional tone. The prophets sing three different songs.
The first song is prophetic rage and indignation. This is the cry found throughout Isaiah 13-23.
The second song is grief and lamentation, an expression of sorrow in the face of suffering and loss. Sackcloth and ashes. Isaiah 3 or 21, for example.
The third song is a song of hope. This is the prophetic turn we see in Isaiah 40.1, where after all the anger and sorrow a song of hope breaks out, "Comfort, comfort my people". This is the poetry of Ezekiel's vision of the Valley of Dry Bones. Can these dead things live again? Yes, they can.
I was struck in that reading by a thought: We all have a natural poetry. Some of these songs we find easier to sing than others. The prophets among us are wonderful at the poetry of rage and rebuke. Other Christians -- like myself -- are good at grief; we're more sad than angry. And finally, there are the still other Christians who are good at seeing hope where others don't.
What's important, of course, is to sing the song you were born to sing.
But there's more: While you should embrace your natural song, you need to become skilled at singing all the songs. If you only sings songs of hope, your faith will become trivial and superficial, disconnected from the injustice and suffering in the world. And if you only sing songs of anger or sorrow, you'll burn yourself out or fail to offer encouragement to those who most need to hear it. I've come to recognize this among the poor or those in prison. I came into those settings singing my natural song -- sorrow -- but they've wanted to hear some hopeful tunes. So I've learned to sing hopeful songs. It's not natural for me, but I'm getting better at it.
This is what struck me in reading Isaiah. We all have a natural song. Embrace it and sing it out loud.
But we also need to learn to sing all of the songs if our faith is to be vibrant and a blessing to others.
Immature Christians tend to sing only one song, ever. Anger over and over. Or lament over and over. Or praise over and over.
Mature Christians, by contrast, are always the best poets, skilled at singing all the songs and adapting the rhyme and meter of faith to the season and situation.
So if you want to be a better Christian, work to become a better poet. Prophets, after all -- those who speak for God -- sing all three.