A Love Song

A Reflection on the First Reading for October 4th, 2020:
The Solemnity of Saint Francis of Assisi

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Isaiah
5.1-7

Let me sing for my beloved my love song concerning his vineyard:

“My beloved had a vineyard on a very fertile hill. He dug it and cleared it of stones, and planted it with choice vines; he built a watchtower in the midst of it, and hewed out a wine vat in it; he expected it to yield grapes, but it yielded wild grapes.

“And now, inhabitants of Jerusalem and people of Judah, judge between me and my vineyard. What more was there to do for my vineyard that I have not done in it? When I expected it to yield grapes, why did it yield wild grapes?

“And now I will tell you what I will do to my vineyard. I will remove its hedge, and it shall be devoured; I will break down its wall, and it shall be trampled down. I will make it a waste; it shall not be pruned or hoed, and it shall be overgrown with briers and thorns; I will also command the clouds that they rain no rain upon it. For the vineyard of the Lord of hosts is the house of Israel, and the people of Judah are his pleasant planting; he expected justice, but saw bloodshed; righteousness, but heard a cry!”
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Pause. Pray.

And then read more...

Let me sing for my Beloved.  
Such a start!  
O my sweet Jesus, let this be my first breath everyday — a song for You.


But the songs are different from day to day, or from season to season, and this one Isaiah had to sing is so sad that I don’t want to let it in. A love song so heartbreaking in its expression of loss, a song that cuts a little too close to the bone to be easily sung.


Our Beloved puts His all in. The desire, the hope, the work, the focus, the passion. To grow something sweet, so it could be used to make something even better. Grapes on the vine. But my eye is drawn to the wine vat; the desired fruit is but a step in a process. He has a plan for the fruit of His desire, to make something potent and lasting.


What would You have turned the justice and righteousness into, if You’d been given the chance? What would they have fermented and aged into under Your expert hand?


Our Beloved can’t do anything with the bloodshed and crying. He can’t put them in the hopper. He knows the product of that fruit. Poison. And so He protects us, His people, from what we are becoming. But it doesn’t look like love. Even though it is.  


Sometimes what grows has to be trampled under, returned to the ground, broken down to become food for the next planting. Another chance. 


I sing a song to You, my Beloved. A love song of passion, for the mess I’ve made is never wasted — You use it all. Help me to submit it all to You, so it can become the fertile ground of another chance for Your grace to grow. It’s all worth it to be where You are, O my sweet Jesus, and I know Joy is on the other side of all this. Walking with You, tasting what the fruit of Your Spirit ferments in my life.  

​Teach my song to rise to You...

Lord I Need You - by Matt Maher (feat. Audrey Assad)

... for grace is found where You are.




Noreen Smith

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