because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek;
he hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim liberty to the captives,
To proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord
Isn't this a carol?
This is the carol of the broken world, pleading for the New Birth to send down Truth that will flow through all the dried up riverbeds and re-echo from every hill.
This is the carol the shepherds and outcasts sing, the millennia of Come, O Come, Emmanuel, sung right up until the angel song finally answers with Gloria.
This is the carol still sung by all us lost children, in our rags of light, crying to be swaddled and held to the heart of Love.
Because this is the song we can hear echoing from the broken hill of Calvary where the truest Voice sang If it be Your will and let at last all Your praises ring, it was that Voice that made all things well, that threw open the prison doors to spill mercy on all those burning hearts in hell
because he hath anointed me
to preach the gospel to the poor;
he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted,
to preach deliverance to the captives,
and recovering of sight to the blind,
to set at liberty them that are bruised,
To preach the acceptable year of the Lord.
Isaiah sang this song and Luke after him and Peter sang:
the just for the unjust,
that he might bring us to God,
being put to death in the flesh,
but quickened by the Spirit:
By which also he went and preached
unto the spirits in prison;
Which sometime were disobedient,
when once the longsuffering of God waited
in the days of Noah, while the ark was a preparing . . .
And I, too, now want to sing -- if it be Your will.