This thought burned in my heart today walking on my way back from lunch. Two friends were having a loud conversation in the table next to mine. One of those conversations that you can't help but overhear even though you don't want to invade their privacy. One was telling the other about the pain of a failed career as a violinist and how traumatic it was to realize you don't have the talent to make it and those around you do. To go from being a big fish in a little pond and then be cast in the ocean. This thought came so vividly as I walked back to my office that I was overwhelmed with the power of it. I hope I can express a fraction of it here several hours later.
Jesus functioned in righteousness like a virtuoso plays a baby grand piano. He had the gift. Not only was He born with it... He developed the gift over His lifetime like a man practicing and practicing to develop a skill. His music was unparalleled by anyone and grew more complex and beautiful as every year passed.
When He cried the music of His sadness filled the air and His tears sounded out a melody as they hit the ground. When He laughed there was no greater deeper joyous sound ever heard by human ears. He was genius walking among men... living life as it was meant to be lived. His humanity was His instrument and He kept it perfectly tuned at all times. Staying up all night in prayer with His Father to make grace adjustments and preparation. Living in weakness like any man is weak but never stumbling or missing a note in His perfect rendition of a human life lived.
Even with all Hell against Him... nailing to a tree to silence Him... He painfully pulled Himself up on bleeding nail pieced hands to finish His song and unlock Heaven so that man could enter in.
We are born with broken fingers. Our instruments are shaped like our creator but unable to play the music. It is close but not close enough. Beautiful, But flawed and out of tune to the trained ear. Our kindnesses are cruel. Our human wisdom may be practical and have some aesthetic appeal but it is devoid of truth. It is dead like we are.
When we are born from above a virtuoso of righteousness is born inside of us. A person who plays life like music that comes from above. That new one is alive and has an ear that hears a different hidden melody when it is played. The instrument is still broken... flawed... but the Spirit is alive and able. Like a plant pushing up through the soil and still covered with dirt. The genius is heard in the Gospel and the certain sound of grace and mercy.
We yearn for what we cannot do. Like an old athlete well into his or her 80's watching a young athlete run. As the young one passes them they just want to shed the years and run in pace with them... but they can't.
God still hears the genius in the broken music of a child born of His words. He hears it and loves the sound. It is the sound of His perfect Son being played in a noisy chaotic world.
He does not flinch at our sometimes sour notes. The miracle is not playing the music perfectly it is that we play it all.
Other people can hear God when a righteous one plays also. When Christ played He was one voice. We all play our solo parts but we also play in harmony together in a concert of praise and worship. Our practice is living in grace and truth... developing the gift that is already there in us from the moment we believed on Christ's death, burial and rise from the grave then into the sky. We learn and grow together enjoying the music of those that are older and have gone before... imperfect though they may be as people. They played the song of faith and there is beauty in the sound of it.
One day the trumpet will sound and our instruments will be transformed. We will play the music that burns in our hearts and minds now as we open God's book and hear His words preached. No more Earth bound... We will sing in the Heavens... a new perfect song.