When I was a child, my mom would soothe and comfort me by singing
to me the song, “Hush Little Baby.” Or
maybe, since I can’t actually recall what her singing voice sounds like, she
just played the Peter, Paul and Mary 8-track that had the song on it. (Hey, it won a grammy in 1970; one could do
worse, I’m sure.)
I’m sure you know the song. And I’m sure you’ll sing it with me:
Hush little baby, don’t say a word, Mama’s
gonna buy you a mockingbird.
If that mockingbird don’t sing, Mama’s gonna
buy you a diamond ring.
And if that diamond ring turns brass, Mama’s
gonna buy you a looking glass.
And if that looking glass gets broke, Mama’s
gonna buy you a billy goat.
And if that billy goat won’t pull, Mama’s
gonna buy you a cart and bull
And if that cart and bull fall down, you’ll
still be the cutest little baby around.
There are other versions of this song. I seem to recall a dog named Rover in there
somewhere…which makes me wonder: what if
I were to use all the skills I learned in seminary, and in workshops and
conferences since, and applied them to the study and interpretation of this
song? Because when I read scripture,
there are often annotations that note that, in some ancient manuscripts,
different words or phrases appear.
Mark’s gospel, for example, has several different endings – whole
paragraphs that some ancient manuscripts have and others do not – and one of
the things interpreters of scripture do is try to figure out which of the
endings is part of the original
version of the gospel.
There are many other issues of interpretation
to consider, and doing that with scripture is a big undertaking, so let’s start
with something simple. Let’s start with
“Hush, Little Baby.”
Perhaps I would start by questioning whether
or not this song is meant to be taken literally or not.
I do have my doubts.
When I interpret scripture, two of the tools
I use are reason and experience, so I’ll do the same here. Reason and experience tell me that giving a
child a mockingbird, a billy goat, or a cart and bull, will probably do nothing
to soothe and calm that upset child.
Now, some folks don’t believe that reason and
experience should be used when interpreting ancient texts. I sure hope their children and the bulls they
give them can get along.
Something that would be helpful would be to
examine the historical context of this song.
I am always reading what scholars have to say about the historical
context of various scripture passages, and find it quite helpful. So what if I did the same for “Hush Little Baby?”
Among the things I would learn would be that
this song is anonymous. There is no
record of who wrote it or where they wrote it.
The same is true for half of the New Testament letters that we often
think of as having been written by the apostle Paul. Probably they were written by someone other
than Paul, but we don’t know exactly who.
What we can
say is that, since mockingbirds come from North America, it is likely that this
is an early American folk tune. It makes
sense, right? Although some sources say that it comes from an earlier English
nursery rhyme.
None of that is very specific. And, unfortunately, even though studying the
historical context is often helpful in determining the meaning of a given
scripture passage, I’m afraid it’s not very helpful in this case.
What do other people say about this song’s
meaning?
Peter Yarrow, in his note about “Hush, Little
Baby” in his book, Sleepytime Songs,
suggests that the appeal of this song is the deep sense of comfort in knowing
that no matter what happens, no matter what goes wrong, the child will be loved
and cared for.
As a child, when I heard this song, that is
exactly what I felt. Never did I expect
my mother to hand me a mockingbird, or a diamond ring, or a billy goat. Even at three or four or five years old, I
understood that the comfort I got from this song came not from its literal
meaning, which rightfully should have scared me to death. (I can think of a lot of scripture passages
that, were I to take them literally, would also scare me to death.)
Even at three or four or five years old, I
understood that this song was a metaphor, a parable, even if at the time I
couldn’t have labeled it as such. I
understood that the truth of this song came not from knowing that I would soon
be receiving all the things it mentions.
The truth of this song came from knowing that, no matter what happens,
no matter what goes wrong, I would be loved and cared for.
So, is this song true? Of course it is true. Does it have meaning that is relevant
today? Of course it does. It is very true and very meaningful.
Now, perhaps you are wondering what led me to
spend all this time and effort researching “Hush, Little Baby” and to share
with you what I learned. Actually, it
was our scripture for today: Isaiah 60.
At first, Isaiah 60 seems innocuous
enough. In fact, it’s downright
pleasant: “Arise! Shine!
Your light has come; the LORD’s glory has shone upon you.” Clearly, this is a positive chapter in
Isaiah, a song of blessing, in fact. But
the blessings quickly begin to sound a little far-fetched…
“Your heart will tremble and open wide,
because the sea’s abundance will be turned over to you; the wealth of all the
nations will come to you. Countless
camels will cover your land..., carrying gold and incense.”
I guess the reference to light and gold and
incense is why this scripture is a part of the lectionary for today, Epiphany,
the day of the magi. But the blessings
are only beginning. The lectionary stops
at verse 6, but there are many more blessings to come in verses 7 and beyond…
“All the sheep from Kedar (a place that is
apparently known for its sheep) will be gathered for you; all the rams from
Nebaioth will be for you. People from
foreign lands will flock here to rebuild your walls, and their kings will serve
you! All the wealth of all the nations
will be brought to you, and their kings will lead the procession! All your bronze will be traded in for gold;
all your iron will be silver; all your wood will be bronze; and all your stones
will be iron. You will be governed by
peace itself, and ruled by righteousness…
“The sun will never set; you will never be in
darkness.”
…And if that sun refuses to shine, God will
give you a sea of brine. And if that sea
of brine is too cold, God will give you incense and gold. And if that incense and gold’s used for
enamel, God’s gonna give you a million camels.
And if the mouths of those camels do froth, God’s gonna give you all the
rams from Nebaioth….
Yes.
Let’s now go through the same process we went through with “Hush, Little
Baby.” Let’s use the same tools of
interpretation for Isaiah 60.
First of all, I think we can safely say that
this is not to be interpreted literally.
Will foreign kings from all the nations really come and give all their
gold? Will all bronze become gold and
all stones become iron? Will the sun
really never set, and never cast you into darkness?
Of course not.
So, what did Isaiah mean when he wrote this?
Oh, but wait; Isaiah didn’t write this. The book that we know as Isaiah, scholars
recognize as actually being two or three different books, written by different
people, that have been combined into one.
It does appear that a prophet known as Isaiah wrote the first 39
chapters, and he wrote it in the years leading up to the Babylonian conquest of
Israel, the years leading up to Israel’s captivity. The first 39 chapters warn of the conquest
that has arrived.
But in chapter 40, things change
suddenly. The entire tone changes. “Comfort, comfort ye my people! Speak compassionately, tenderly, to
Jerusalem; tell her that her captivity has ended, her penalty has been paid.” Words of comfort at the end of
captivity. This is a very different time
than that of chapters 1-39, and, most likely, a very different author as well.
The theme of the restoration of Israel after
its time of captivity continues in chapter 60.
You see, the time of captivity was devastating for Israel. It was devastating emotionally and spiritually. The people’s identity was lost. They could only mourn.
Psalm 137 was written during this time: “By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down,
and there we wept, when we remembered our home in Zion. We hung up our harps in the trees there, because
that’s where our captors asked us to sing.
‘Sing us a song of Zion!’ they said.
But how could we possibly sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land?”
It was a time of despair and lost hope.
Isaiah 60 is indeed a song of great blessing,
because the people who had been taken away from their homeland are now able to
return. But even with this release from
captivity, some had lost so much hope that they didn’t care or didn’t believe,
and some no longer had the will or desire to return.
Isaiah 60 is the comfort and encouragement
they needed.
“Everything you’ve lost will be returned to
you. The kings who took your wealth will
bring it to you. The people who
destroyed your walls will rebuild them.
The gold you lost, forcing you to settle for bronze, will be changed
back to gold. The iron that was taken
from you, so that you had to settle for stone, will be changed back to iron.”
Is this all literally true? I don’t know, and I don’t think it really
matters. What matters is that it was the
comfort and encouragement that was needed.
It was the reassurance that no matter what happens, no matter all that
has gone wrong, you are loved and cared for by a God who knows your suffering.
Comparing “Hush, Little Baby” with Isaiah 60
has helped me in another way. It has
helped me realize how important it is to receive comfort and reassurance when
times are tough. Everyone has times in
their lives when they need to be soothed, reassured, and comforted. Everyone has times when they need to hear
those words of kindness, those words of love.
Think of a time when you were really down,
and a friend or family member comforted and encouraged you. They told you things would get better. Perhaps they promised you the world. Perhaps they promised you all kinds of ridiculous
things that you can’t even remember … and yet you do remember how they made you
feel better, how they comforted you, how they reassured you that you were
loved.
I know that there have been times when I have
been stressed, worried, and anxious, and someone came along and said to me,
“there, there; it will be fine. Everything
is going to turn out wonderfully.” They
had no evidence of this, and logically, what they said didn’t even make sense;
about as much sense as promising a baby a bull and cart; about as much sense as
promising a people in captivity that soon, the kings who held them captive
would turn around and begin serving them.
It was clear to me and to them that their
words made no sense. And yet, they
provided comfort.
I also know that, for me in particular, I am
sometimes too quick to give advice.
There is a time for advice, a time when advice is helpful, but there is
also a time for comfort, a time to just let someone know that you are there
with them. A time to sing a soothing
song of reassurance.
God knows this. God knows what you are going through. God also knows that our fears and anxieties
are often out of proportion to the reality of our situation. So sometimes, what we get from God are these
gentle words of reassurance, these gentle words of comfort.
Because God knows that sometimes, all we need
is a little love and kindness to get us through.
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