by Donna Poole
What were the first sounds Jesus heard?
Perhaps it was the soft bleating of a lamb, the whispered love of His mother, or a Jewish blessing from Joseph. He surely heard awe and joy in the rough voices of His first visitors, shepherds from a nearby hillside, whose hearts were overflowing with wonder at this Savior in a humble manger.
As Jesus grew, He heard the familiar sounds of saw and hammer in the carpenter shop where He worked with Joseph. I wonder if He loved the beautiful things He made with His hands in that shop, even though before He’d chosen to limit Himself in a body, He’d created the stars of the universe just by the breath of His mouth!
Jesus heard lovely things in His short life; the crashing of waves on the seashore where He loved to walk, the quiet sounds of mother robins singing babies to sleep, the night sounds of owls hooting in the trees.
He heard the fluttering wings of tiny sparrows and taught us God the Father cares about each little bird that falls to the ground. He noticed the rustle of the lilies swaying in gentle breezes and preached about a heavenly Father who dresses flowers in beauty and can take care of us.
Jesus heard sad things. Cries for help; pleas for mercy, and sobs of the bereaved—Jesus heard all of these.
Jesus heard terrifying things. He listened to the crazed sounds of demons and the voice of Satan himself and emerged victorious and unsoiled.
Noise, Jesus heard noise. Crowds of 4,000 and 5,000 clamored with need; yet He often made time for just one voice. He held a quiet conversation with one woman at a well that transformed an entire city.
Jesus heard what no one else did. He always listened for words too deep to be spoken. When a sinful woman washed His feet with her tears and dried them with her hair, she couldn’t say a word. But He heard the prayer of her tears and answered, “Your sins are forgiven.”
When crowds of people surrounded Him in Jericho, Jesus saw a short man, a tax collector, and a cheat, who’d climbed a tree just to catch a glimpse of Him. The little man never said a word. Jesus heard his unspoken need and changed his life forever.
Jesus heard His Father’s voice. He went alone to quiet places where He heard only the sounds of nature. There, He prayed, sometimes all night.
Jesus heard praise. What joyful sounds surrounded Him on the day we call Palm Sunday! As He rode into Jerusalem, shouts echoed through the streets. “Praise God! The Messiah is coming!”
But Jesus knew what was really coming. The people weren’t going to accept Him as their king, their Messiah; quite the opposite, and He needed to prepare. It would be the spiritual battle of His life and could be won only by prayer.
Jesus loved to pray in the Garden of Gethsemane, but He wasn’t enjoying the beautiful sounds of nature His last night there as He begged His Father for strength to endure.
Jesus heard the hostile crowd coming before He saw them, swords and staves clanging, feet stomping. Then he heard the treacherous words from a man He loved, one of His own disciples betraying Him for money, “Hail Master.”
Jesus felt the traitor’s kiss.
That was the sign Judas had given Jesus’ enemies. “Grab the one I kiss; He’s the one you want.”
Grab Him they did.
The sounds Jesus heard next were sounds from hell; blows to His face, clothes being torn from Him, a razor-sharp whip whistling through the air and cutting into His back. The sound of a crown of thorns being pounded into his head.
And then came the blood thirsty cry of the crowd; “Crucify! Crucify! Crucify!”
Jesus heard His own labored breathing as He struggled to carry His cross up the hill, until He fell under its weight, and they forced another to carry it for Him. Then came other horrific sounds: the pounding of nails into flesh, the tortured screams of the two being crucified with Him, the jeering of the crowd.
Finally, after an agony of suffering, Jesus heard His own victorious shout, “It is finished! Father, into thy hands, I commend my spirit.”
And then, blessed, sweet, peaceful silence.
“All night had shout of men and cry/ Of woeful women filled his way; Until that noon of sombre sky/ On Friday, clamour and display/ Smote him; no solitude had he, No silence, since Gethsemane.
“Public was Death; but Power, but Might,/ But Life again, but Victory,/ Were hushed within the dead of night,/ The shuttered dark, the secrecy./ And all alone, alone, alone/ He rose again behind the stone.” –Alice Meynell
Then came Resurrection Morning.
Jesus didn’t have to wait to hear the grating sound of the stone being rolled away to leave the tomb; He was already outside. Joy had washed the world with newborn glory! Did Jesus breathe the fresh air and rejoice in the songs of the birds He’d created?
Jesus heard a woman weeping; His dear friend Mary Magdalene was sobbing because she thought He was dead. Through her tears He showed her a brighter rainbow of hope than a weary world could ever have imagined in its wildest dreams.
“Jesus lives!”
Oh, my sweet Lord Jesus, you still hear all our voices; hear my voice now. You said you died for sinners, so you died for us all. You took our sins into your own heart on that horrible cross; you felt our guilt and shame and paid what we owe.
“The wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.” –Romans 6:23
I took that gift God offered as my own in a short prayer of faith many years ago. It was a simple child’s prayer, but He heard it!
On this Resurrection Morning we call Easter Sunday, I read the promise of my own resurrection not just in God’s Word but in every springtime flower. I fall to the knees of my heart in joy, and I sing today! I want Him to hear it!
My praise is so imperfect; I stutter and stammer, and sometimes tears shorten my song to just a word. But just as a mother loves to hear her baby say his first, “Mama,” God loves to hear even my broken notes. And so, through all the seasons of my life, I sing.
Jesus heard everything when He walked our planet; He hears everything now. What’s He hearing from us?
Lord, sadly, our country church has no choir to praise you this year, but we join our hearts with millions of others to make a magnificent cantata. Do you hear the music, Lord? This Easter your people are singing your praises all over the world! I hope the sound is sweet to your ears!
“God sent His son, they called Him, Jesus/ He came to love, heal, and forgive. / He lived and died to buy my pardon/ An empty grave is there to prove my Savior lives.
“Because He lives, I can face tomorrow. / Because He lives, all fear is gone. / Because I know he holds the future, / And life is worth the living/ Just because He lives.
“And then one day, I’ll cross that river. / I’ll fight life’s final war with pain. / And then, as death gives way to vic’try, / I’ll see the lights of glory and I’ll know He reigns.” –William J Gaither and Gloria Gaither
The End
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You can find my books on Amazon:
Corners Church: https://amzn.to/36ImxOj
If the Creek Don’t Rise: Corners Church Book 2 https://amzn.to/3jqarv2
Tale of Two Snowpeople: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09GJKG83R
