How can you not love Isaiah 55? I don't care whether there were one, two, three, or seventeen Isaiahs. Whoever wrote Isaiah 55 was a great poet.
For you shall go out in joy,
and be led back in peace;
the mountains and the hills before you
shall burst into song,
and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.
Do you know the story of evangelist Dwight Moody and his friend Scottish New Testament scholar Henry Drummond? Moody was quite conservative and Drummond was fairly liberal, but they were close friends. Moody invited Drummond to speak at a conference, and Drummond responded by saying, "Are you sure you want me to speak? After all, I believe that there were three Isaiahs." Moody replied, "Henry, there are people here who don't know there was one Isaiah!"
I don't remember if composer Randall Thompson used this particular bit of Isaiah in his oratorio, The Peaceable Kingdom, but for some reason it's been running through my mind as I read these words. That made me think about the Bible and music. From beginning to end the Bible seems to beg to be set to music.
That inspired a somewhat heretical thought. You can almost judge the value of a text by how readily it can be set to music. The texts that have inspired the best music also seem to be the ones that take us most deeply into God's mysteries. Think of the texts that Handel chose for Messiah or Brahms set in his German Requiem.
But there are also some important texts that are not easily set to music. Much of Paul is either not easily sung or is so closely argued that one would have to set whole chapters to music. Also the parables of Jesus would be a real challenge for composers. (Although they might make terrific mini-operas. Benjamin Britten composed a setting of the Prodigal Son and even avowed atheist Sergei Prokofiev wrote a ballet based on the same parable.)
Isaiah 55 and Matthew 13 are an obvious pairing. They both speak of a God of extravagant generosity. One thing is certain: God did not go to Harvard Business School and would not do very well on The Apprentice! This God does not keep an eye on the bottom line. Rather, God offers "wine and milk" to "those without money".
In Matthew the sower seems to represent God. Again, God seems extravagant, even careless, in broadcasting the "word of the kingdom." God seems not to care if it falls on good soil or rocks or among thorns.
But in both Isaiah and Matthew God's word has a life of its own. Isaiah tells us that God's word "shall not return... empty" but will "accomplish [its] purpose." In Matthew the soil is the random factor; the seed will flourish if the the soil gives is half a chance.
The idea that God's word has a life of its own intrigues me. We think of words as insignificant. We say or write things carelessly. Deeds, not words, are the important thing. Do you remember what Eliza Doolittle sings in My Fair Lady?
Words! Words! Words!
I'm so sick of words!
I get words all day through;
First from him now from you!
Is that all you blighters can do?
Don't talk of stars, burning above;
If you're in love, show me!
But words are powerful and often take on a life of their own. I think of Thomas Jefferson's words in the Declaration of Independence: "We hold these truths to be self-evident that all men are created equal..." They were words that changed the world. Indeed, they changed the world in ways that Jefferson did not imagine they would and in ways he did not want the world to be changed. They brought about a revolution not just for white male property owners but eventually for African Americans and women, too.
The Bible's words have a remarkable power to change lives. When St. Augustine was struggling with whether or not to become a Christian, he heard a child singing the words, Tolle lege... tolle lege. ("Take and read... take and read.") and he picked up an open Bible and read the words, "Let us walk honestly, as in the day; not in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness, not in strife and envying. But put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make not provision for the flesh, to fulfil the lusts thereof." And from that moment Augustine sought baptism and never looked back.
Encountering God's word changes us because to encounter the word is to encounter God. Each word that we speak carries just a bit of ourselves with it. How much more then do God's words represent God?
God's words change the world and change us. God scatters or broadcasts the divine word prodigally, liberally, extravagantly. God invites us to receive the word, but we should be aware that we do not know how it will change us.
Isaiah tells us what happens when we hear and heed God's word.
For you shall go out in joy,
and be led back in peace;
the mountains and the hills before you
shall burst into song,
and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.
