This Sunday's sermon text is found in Isaiah 1. The text itself is disturbing. Even so, seeing as it's poetry, I'm sure we lose something in translation - you know, the tone, the feeling, the mood. What's lost might be found in Jon Foreman's song, "Instead of a show," a simple recasting of Isaiah's words. The song haunts me every time I hear it. It makes me want to go hide under a rock and confess my sins (for who could be more guilty of showy worship than those of us who get paid to lead said worship). Somehow this week, I've got to figure out how to climb out from that rock and preach a sermon from this text. I'll do so, as Walter Brueggemann puts it, by squirming beneath the text along with you. Until Sunday, listen to Jon's version. He captures the text so well a sermon doesn't even seem necessary. If only I could sing.