words i am pondering today



Do your little bit of good where you are; it is those little bits of good put together that overwhelm the world.--Desmond Tutu


Monday, April 20, 2009

music and light for those passing by

I saw a friend had posted this on facebook, and, as I said in comments there, I cried from the sheer exuberance of it all. The dancers are having so much fun, and the look on some of the spectators' faces is so charming, as they delight in the unfolding surprise.

Again, sorry about the ugly link--one of these days I'll figure out how to fix things and make video posts like a real blog.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7EYAUazLI9k

I wonder how the spectators felt when it was all over--did they have an extra spring in their steps as they left the station? Did they feel like they had been a part of something special?

That also brings to mind a story that the speaker this past Sunday at Vintage Faith told during the worship gathering. Maybe you have heard it before: the Washington Post set up a test of sorts down in the D.C. Metro on a busy weekday morning. They had a world famous violinist named Joshua Bell (considered one of the world's greatest) playing his Stradivarius (one of the world's greatest instruments) and they expected to create a bit of a furor (supposedly the acoustics were fantastic down there). But. . . when you watch the video sped up, which makes the movement of people easily apparent, you notice that for most of the concert, no one stops to listen. No one. This is a man who people pay over a hundred dollars to hear play in the finest concert halls, and now anyone passing by can stop and listen for free, but they can't be bothered. They are too focused on their immediate need--probably to make their train on time, understandably--and don't even seem to turn their heads to look, let alone listen to the amazing music.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=myq8upzJDJc

The speaker on Sunday was making an analogy between this event and how blind we are to the amazing beauty, truth, sustenance, etc. to be found in the written Word of God--it is right there in front of us all the time, but we never stop to look or listen.

With that in mind, I noticed two interesting things about the video. First, when finally one person stops to listen, she stands transfixed, almost blocking the flow of traffic, only caring for looking and listening at that moment. Later we find out she had seen Joshua Bell play before. So the one person who engaged with that miraculous moment had experienced something like it before, and knew it at once for what it was, and gave herself completely to it.

Second, for most of the video there are people passing, passing, passing. After the one woman stops, in such an obvious place, suddenly other people stop and listen too. Her attention is a signal to them that something special is happening, and they want to be part of it too.

I am sure there are lessons there about keeping our hearts sensitive to hearing God, and being a light to others--I'll let you come up with your own. : )

2 comments:

  1. That is absolutely incredible, and what an insight and parallel to God! I noticed something else as I was watching. Some people DID seem to stop and listen by the wall (perhaps they were just checking their phones or lists or something), but it was not until the woman in plain sight stood in others' way that he was noticed. I can apply that to my life and my walk with God. Am I "stopping" at the wall when I convene with God and give partial attention, or hidden attention? I need to be bolder and identify God to others for who He is. Wow. Amazing.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Yes, I noticed that too, that there were some people who paused by that post, but since it was not clear that they were stopping to listen purposefully or if they were just listening on accident while they paused for a different reason, I did not talk about them. So I am so glad you pointed it out and made an analogy--excellent idea for us to consider! Thanks for taking a moment to engage with this, Shera! : )

    ReplyDelete