September 19, 2021 - #4801 Music & the Spoken Word
The Music & the Spoken Word broadcast airs live via TV, radio, and internet stream on Sunday at 9:30 a.m. mountain time. For information on other airtimes, visit “Airing Schedules” at musicandthespokenword.org.
This encore performance of Music & the Spoken Word has been specially selected for airing while the Choir and Orchestra are practicing social distancing. It contains a new Spoken Word written and delivered by Lloyd Newell.
Conductor: Mack Wilberg
Organist: Richard Elliott
Announcer: Lloyd Newell
“Redeemer of Israel”1
Music: Freeman Lewis
Lyrics: Joseph Swain; adapted by William W. Phelps
Arrangement: Mack Wilberg
“I Know That My Savior Loves Me”2
Music and Lyrics: Tami Jeppson Creamer and Derena Bell
Arrangement: Ryan Murphy
“Praise and Thanksgiving” (organ solo)
Music: Dale Wood
“Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin’” from Oklahoma
Music: Richard Rodgers
Lyrics: Oscar Hammerstein II
Arrangement: Arthur Harris
“Tree of Life”3
Music: Mack Wilberg
Lyrics: David Warner
“The Morning Breaks”4
Music: George Careless
Lyrics: Parley P. Pratt
Arrangement: Mack Wilberg
- On the CD Called to Serve.
- On the CD Teach Me to Walk in the Light.
- On the CD Tree of Life.
- On the CD Praise to the Man.
The Spoken Word
The Tree of Life
For all of their differences, there are some things that many of the world’s religions share in common. One of these is the symbolic tree of life, representing a connection between heaven and earth and our longing for the eternal. Somewhere deep inside, we all want to know that life continues, that our existence has meaning beyond the here and now, and that its purposes do not begin with birth or end with death.
Not long after a young family moved into their first home, they planted a tree in their backyard. It was exactly the same height as their two-year-old daughter, so they called it her tree. For a time, the tree and the little girl seemed to grow at about the same rate. But before long, as the girl helped water and care for the tree, it quickly outgrew her. She and her friends spent many summer afternoons playing beneath and around the tree, climbing its branches and sometimes leaving her toys near its trunk. As she got older, she often sat to read in its shade. And sometimes, when she wanted to be alone, she went to the quiet of her tree to think.
Eventually, the girl became a woman and went away to college. Now she has a home of her own, but the tree remains—and she still comes back to visit it from time to time. As she gazes at the branches stretching heavenward and leans against the thick, sturdy trunk that grasps the earth so firmly, she remembers that she and her tree were once the same size, and she thinks back on all the living and growing they both have seen—and will yet see in years to come.
In some ways, this tree has become her tree of life. It doesn’t bear fruit promising immortality, but it does help her feel connected to heaven. And it links her past with her future. It can be difficult to see the growth in ourselves, but when we look at a mighty tree that we once knew as a sapling, we are reminded of the potential inside each of us. No matter how small we may feel now, we were created to grow, to spread our branches, and to bear life-giving fruit.