The sound lingers…
Ever since high school I have had a bit of a love affair with science. I am profoundly curious about what we don’t know – almost as much as I am fascinated by what we think we DO know. The world in a microscope intrigues me, and the galaxies revealed by the likes of the James Webb and Hubble telescopes, are a never-ending source of wonder. I remember when I first saw a machine make a heartbeat visible. And when Pete used to hangglide in the Owens Valley, he often overflew “Big Ears”, one of the largest radio observatories in the world, huge dishes pointing at outer space, listening, always listening for what we can’t hear. The story goes that, late in his life, Marconi had an epiphany. The godfather of radio technology decided that no sound ever dies. It just decays beyond the point that we can detect it with our ears. He believed any sound was forever recoverable with the right device and his dream was to build one powerful enough to pick up Christ’s Sermon on the Mount.
That may have been a fanciful thought, but just imagine if it were possible to actually hear that kind but strong voice rebuke a disease, commend a generous spirit or simply say, “Neither do I condemn you. Go, and sin no more.” Imagine hearing that voice rise above the howling wind of a storm saying, “It is I – don’t be afraid.” If sound waves do, indeed, never die, then today “Let there be light!” still has creative power!
I believe when we speak the Word over a situation, our ‘sound waves’ become part of not only the voices of the great crowd of witnesses gone before but harmonized with the creative voice of the Trinity. When I say to the sick, “In Jesus’ name, be healed, be whole!” I am only a mouthpiece, speaking with the authority of the great Creator, echoing the words spoken over so many as God in Christ walked the earth! Perhaps the question is not “What would Jesus do?” so much as it is, “What did Jesus say?”
One never-to-be-forgotten day many years ago now, when agonizing over a beloved family member wandering and lost in the far country, the Holy Spirit let me hear my own words. Every question I answered about this person was prefaced with “unfortunately”, every prayer a reminder to God of what I thought HE should do. As I submitted my anxious heart to him, I clearly heard, “Speak LIFE, Evangeline!” and immediately knew what the Spirit meant. Now my quest became (and still is) to speak what Jesus would speak, no matter what my reason dictates. Within weeks, things started to change, praise be to God!
Increasingly, my desire is for my voice to be in harmony with my heavenly Father’s voice. And if a future genius were to invent a machine capable of capturing the fading soundwaves of our lives, I would want my words to speak life – even after death!
