Thursday, June 19, 2014

Sanctification, Community, and Cello

     Part of the reason I love art (including visual art, music, theatre, literature, and dance) is that it allows me to see things about God that I miss otherwise. It snaps me out of my busy to do list, grabs my attention, and makes me look.

     This morning as I was straightening my hair and getting ready for another long day of work, I was mulling over a discussion I had with a friend yesterday about why we need to be in community. As I was thinking about it (and trying not to singe off all my hair while I waited for my coffee to kick in) this song began to play on my Pandora station:


    And as the cellos began to join together, all our bits of conversation and musings began to come   together into a (slightly) more succinct (though not new) thought. Here it is:

"      Our lives lived under our authority are like a violin in the hands of a small child. It may technically 'work', but it doesn't work in the way it was meant to. The instrument doesn't meet its full potential, because the person playing it doesn't know the intricacies of it, or how to make it play songs they cannot even comprehend. Our lives, without being introduced to theory, practice, and discipline, cannot "make music" in the way that they were intended to. But our lives in submission to the teaching of the Master, who not only knows the theory that makes things beautiful, but also wrote it, allows our songs to become things of great beauty, complexity, and joy. The discipline allows the creativity. Rather than being hindered by all the things we don't know, understand, or care about, we begin to see more through the practice of following God's way over our own.  It isn't always easy, and the songs don't immediately sound great, but the process (the sanctification) of slowly learning what it means to love God and become more like Him allows us to see the beauty of life in the way we could not otherwise even imagine. We all learn at different stages and in different ways. But God brings one learner to another. We are not soloists, but an orchestra. All of our songs and stories, tangled together, no two the same, end up being directed into something far more complex and beautiful than we can ever achieve on our own. God teaches us and sanctifies us as individuals, but we are meant to learn and play communally, under his direction. 

     Additionally, not every person is a violin, or a cello. All the parts have to play together, and what they are playing is different, but complimentary, to enrich the sound. While living in community and dealing with people who are different from you is messy and uncomfortable, an orchestra of many instruments is far more beautiful than every person playing the same instrument the same way at the same time. "

    This is important for me to remember, because I know I tend to assume that I know what is best, and that everyone else should think and operate in the same way I do. But the older I get, the more I begin to understand the limits of my own wisdom, and appreciate the community that checks, corrects, and encourages me. I have loved getting to know more of the 'music' of the people in my Church through working with the youth, their parents, and the Church staff, as well as through hearing different peoples testimonies as a part of "Stories of Summer". God gives us community as a gift, but also as a command. We need it, and He knows it.

     Some people are drawn to the Gospel by reason, others by tradition, and others by doctrine. For me,  the draw will always be the beauty and the glory.