Two weeks ago, I got to play the pipe organ in the original Mother Church edifice in Boston. What a treat!
If you are unaware, I have a pipe organ background, going back to my days at Stanford University. While in college, I took lessons from one of the finest organists in the world, loved the opportunity, and continued to play extensively for several years afterward in local churches, recitals and concerts in my hometown region of Washington State.
I lost the time to keep practicing, and, alas, my extensive repertoire languished and my skills got rusty. But I’ve never lost the basic ability to sit down and play some beautiful music when given the chance.
It’s been 10 or 15 years since I’ve sat on the bench of a fine and large pipe organ like the one in The Original Mother Church. When I pulled out the stops, put my fingers to the keys and feet to the pedals, and played “Shepherd, show me how to go,” my heart started to go pitty-pat. The exquisiteness, the purity, the rich romantic voluptuous tone of the pipes, brought back so many warm memories of what it feels like to play a well-cared for instrument that had the capacity to play some of the finest organ music ever written. My sense took flight. I soared with the wings of eagles and mingled with angels on high. It was sooooo satisfying.
My experience with pipe organs has not always been this enjoyable. I’ve played many instruments over the years, and most have problems. Stops don’t work. Buttons don’t do what they are supposed to do. Pipes are out of tune, some severely so. I didn’t encounter any of these problems while playing this organ. The music just flowed and flowed, and how beautiful, awe-inspiring and warm it was. I was in musical heaven.
Afterward, I pondered the connection between that organ being in tune and ready to play and our thought being “ready and in tune” to meet the demands of any day.
When the instrument is ready, the musician can perform.
In the everyday scheme of life, one might say that God is the musician and we are the instrument. God plays the divine melodies of Truth and Love through us for the benefit of all. When we are “in-tune,” when our thinking is pure, spiritual and inspired, God’s best work shows up in us and is clear for all to witness around.
So,…you probably saw this coming, “Keep your instrument in tune today and let the heavenly strain of Love be heard by all around!”
Great analogy, Evan. Thanks!
Amanda
Ha ha. I ran across the following this morning (even still had it in my copy and paste memory):
‘Twas Battered and scarred, and the auctioneer
Thought it scarcely worth his while
To waste much time on the old violin,
But he held it up with a smile:
“What am I bidden, good folks,” he cried,
“Who’ll start bidding for me?”
“A dollar, a dollar”; then, “Two!” “Only two?
Two dollars, and who’ll make it three?
Three dollars, once; three dollars, twice;
Going for three —” But no,
From the room, far back, a gray-haired man
Came forward and picked up the bow;
Then, wiping the dust from the old violin,
And tightening the loose strings,
He played a melody pure and sweet
As as a caroling angel sings.
The music ceased, and the auctioneer,
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said; “What am I bid for the old violin?”
And he held it up with the bow.
“A thousand dollars, and who’ll make it two?
Two thousand! And who’ll make it three?
Three thousand, once, three thousand, twice,
And going, and gone” said he.
The people cheered, but some of them cried,
“We do not quite understand
What changed its worth.” Swift came the reply:
“The touch of the master’s hand.”
And many a man with life out of tune,
And battered and scattered with sin,
Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd,
Much like the old violin.
A “mess of pottage,” a glass of wine;
A game — and he travels on.
He is “going” once, and “going” twice,
He’s “going” and almost “gone.”
But the Master comes, and the foolish crowd
Never can quite understand
The worth of a soul, and the change that’s wrought
By the touch of the Master’s hand.
Evan, I love the statement: when the instrument is ready, the musician can perform. I sent today’s blog to my son who is in Music Industry at Northeastern in Boston. Wish he had known you were there. You two could have played a duet. Derra
I really like the analogy and wish I would keep it in better shape at all times. It was brought home to me this summer, when I took guitar lessons after some 35 years. It came back but I was also getting used to a new guitar. OH, was it hard sometimes, but on we plugged. Lessons are over, but I won’t forget the new beginning of playing guitar over.
Oh cool!
I’ve been up to the organ and watched before but never gotten to play!
What a heart warmer….