TEN YEARS GONE: Cry Aloud, Inhabitants of Zion (revised)

 

When The Presence of God Becomes Song

First published Saturday, December 12, 2015. Revised February 25, 2026

Cry aloud, inhabitants of Zion, ring out your joy,

for the great one in the midst of you is the Holy One of Israel.

— Isaiah 12

Isaiah 12 erupts in praise.

After chapters of warning, judgment, and promise, the prophet pauses — almost unable to contain himself — and calls the people to sing. Not quietly. Not privately. But aloud.

The reason is simple and staggering:
“The great one in the midst of you…”

God is not distant. Not theoretical. Not symbolic. He is present.

In 2015, I wrote these words during Advent, when the Church was anticipating the celebration of Christ’s coming. But the command to sing is not seasonal. It does not belong only to December.

It belongs wherever God is “in the midst.”

And perhaps this is why sacred music has endured the way it has. Across centuries, across languages, across ordinary villages and great cathedrals, believers have tried to give sound to this reality.

You can debate taste, style, or cultural preference. But there is something about music rooted in praise — in joy that is directed outward rather than inward — that carries unusual weight. Its chord structures are not merely technical; they are theological. Its melodies are not merely catchy; they are communal.

Some of the most beloved tunes in history — Silent Night, Greensleeves — arose not from elite institutions but from common people. Farmers. Clergy. Laborers. Ordinary believers giving voice to wonder.

And Isaiah would approve.

Lent, with its quiet self-examination and repentance, might seem an odd time to talk about ringing joy. But perhaps it is precisely here — in the season that strips away illusion — that we most need the reminder:

The Holy One is still in our midst.

So sing.

Not because the calendar says so.
Not because culture approves.
But because the presence of God, once recognized, naturally becomes song.