music lessons

Perspective comes in at the most awkward and frustrating times. Maybe that’s the reason I ought to appreciate it. Every time I turn around, God is out to teach me something else, or remind me of something I learned long ago.

In a competitive environment such as the one where I spend every feverish, half-caffeinated waking moment, the hardest thing to come to grips with is that it’s possible for me to have bitten off more than I could chew. This week, I had the two worst music lessons in my short history of musicianship. On Monday, it was the piano lesson. New pieces were prepared and I felt pretty good, to be honest, about playing them in front of my occasionally moody professor. After a brief conversation wherein my arpeggio technique was revealed to be sadly lacking (“you play those far too much like a jazz player”), I pulled out a Bach Prelude (which, to date, he had not heard me play), eager to display some progress. The little two-pager fell apart in my numbed hands. As I fumbled on to the top of the second page, my professor, not wishing me further embarrasment, said: “This really isn’t ready for me to teach you on. Maybe you have something else to play for me?” As the Bach piece was supposed to have been my salvation in this lesson, my spirit sunk at his innocent question. I pulled out the only other thing I could, which is the Scriabin 4th Piano Sonata, a beast of a work that defies me to perform it. We had covered this piece in our last two lessons and I knew there was little more to talk about. I played through as much as I could (about 4 measures farther than the week before) and he paused for a moment before saying: “I need something else – you’re bringing this to me sort of half-baked.” That’s right. He said “half-baked” in reference to my playing.

I left discouraged that Monday morning, but looking with hope toward the coaching on Thursday. I had been working as hard as I could on the piano/violin sonata (Beethoven Kreutzer) that John (violinist) and I had chosen to study at the beginning of the semester. We had one rehearsal on Wednesday night, and it wasn’t very good, but I was filled with hope for the eventual culmination of my efforts on this piece. It’s a real bear. Thursday morning arrived, and all of us were shocked by the news of a student’s sudden death of bacterial meningitis. He was a freshman violinist at our school and I didn’t know him but it was still an emotional day. He was in one of our coach’s chamber groups as well, and since that was the case, and classes had all been cancelled, I thought our coach would most certainly not be coming in the evening. I was wrong. She came, and we had to play for her. There was a little discussion after the playing, and then she made this remark: “You (to my violinist, a freshman) are ready to play this piece. You (directed at yours truly) are not. You can’t get your notes. You’re not inspiring him to take the piece to the next level. Though I never suggest this, I’m going to ask that you switch to another piece in mid-semester, that both of you can handle. Maybe something more directed toward the violin.”

Understand that she wasn’t “mean” in her assessment; in fact, it was the truth. It was also the truth that I had no time to practice as I desired and that it would have taken twice as many hours to get that piece off the ground for me because I’m a fairly slow repertoire learner. If you know me you know that I love the truth; it’s not as easy to love when it hurts.

I vented my frustration over the phone to a friend (not a musician, but in graduate school) last night, and in telling him this also went on for a while about how most of the undergrad pianists here can run circles around me in virtuosic repertoire. He shared a valuable insight which I hope I will not soon forget. I’m just going to quote a couple of lines of his: “My prayer life lately has really been about my salvation; you know? Just thankfulness…I realized that if I find out that I am really a terrible pastor, and I end up digging ditches the rest of my life, that’ll be fine too. Jesus is in that.” I had to stew on that for a while, because it’s completely opposed to the conservatory mentality. He also said something later in the conversation that I found very encouraging: “You are truly a great songwriter. When you play discs for me of pianists that can do things that seem humanly impossible, it wows me. But I won’t listen to that six hundred times. It doesn’t cut to my heart.” While hearing something like that is a boost to anyone’s ego, it really made me think and be thankful to God for him, and for the gifts I have. I can’t be worried about what I just can’t do. The more my limitations and failings close in on me, the more I’ll be able to see the direction that God is taking me in – the place I must go.

I thank God for constant reminders that I am not Him, and that I have zero adequacies or competencies in this life apart from Him. Perspective is good.

addendum

If you haven’t read the previous post, you may have difficulty understanding why this one is here.

One reader (who shall remain anonymous) complained that in the previous post there was not nearly enough rebuttal to the legalist objection. I will complete the idea here in a simpler format.

Legalism is a practice that arises from a wholesale misunderstanding of God’s character and work in the world as revealed by Scripture. The legalist believes (essentially) that God is fickle; he believes that he goes in and out of favor with God day by day, based on his actions and attitudes. He believes that God is in the process of judging his progress in the faith and perhaps even meting out salvation according to his (the legalist’s) righteousness.

Scripture paints a different picture. In Isaiah 66:4 the people of God are reminded of how their own righteousness before Him is like “filthy rags.” In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus explains in detail what is required of a person who intends to keep the law, purposefully showing the task to be utterly impossible for a sinful creature (“Therefore be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect”). God went to great lengths in the composition of His Word to demonstrate that His law is beyond keeping and that sinful creatures are void of meritorious character or actions in themselves, the purpose of which was to turn us to grace (see Romans 3), that we would cast ourselves upon Him in our inability, placing our trust in the merits of Jesus Christ rather than in our haphazard attempts at obedience. However, in both the Sermon on the Mount and Romans 3 (and 6), statements are made (by Jesus and Paul, respectively) regarding the present necessity of upholding the law before God. Jesus said he did not come to nullify it; Paul said that it was (and is) good, and though it is but the schoolmaster to lead us to Christ, rather than nullify it, we are to uphold it! Is the Scripture contradictory?

I submit that it is not. The issue is one of perspective. The legalist believes that he must secure the love and favor of God for himself; therefore he works at keeping laws. The Scripture tells us that God, in his love and for his good pleasure (Ephesians 1, 1 Peter 1) purchased us for Himself in Christ before the world began, securing forever our salvation by His blood and entirely apart from our efforts. The Scripture then shows us what response should well up within us toward a God who loved us “while we were yet sinners” (Romans 5:8). Our Biblical response is (what else but) obedience! In Romans 6 this practice is explained as becoming “slaves to righteousness;” in fact, from long ago, the Scripture informs us from the example of Saul that God desires obedience rather than sacrifice (ceremony). Common sense might further inquire why it is that the bulk of the Bible is made up of laws and instructions with historical examples of obedience and disobedience to those laws. In giving Jesus over to death, God was not nullifying the rule of faith and practice given to his people since the beginning. He was fulfilling a covenant that He made long ago, to “save his people from their sins” (and, in another place, to pour His Spirit out on them). The keeping of the law (and the benefits of keeping it) never became obsolete; the Pharisaical (even legalistic) practice of the law for its own sake was never what God intended. The truth is, the law is good, and our response of faith to a saving Christ is in loving obedience to and meditation on his law (see Psalm 119), not because it curries God’s favor (which we have in abundance in Christ the mediator), but because He has already given His favor to us.

In summary, at the risk of redundancy and repeating myself, the legalist works in the hope of pleasing God and obtaining a gracious response from Him. The Biblical Christian has been brought low in order to understand “what manner of love the Father has bestowed upon [him],” (1 John) and in response to such love, can do nothing but pursue holiness by dedicating his life to becoming an “imitator of God” (Ephesians 5). Therefore, the pursuit of godliness in every aspect (doing all things to the glory of God, 1 Corinthians 10) is not only a possible way of living for a Christian; indeed, according to the Scripture it is every Christian’s holy obligation before God. Jesus said it plainly, eloquently and quite conditionally to his disciples: “If you love me, you will obey my commands.”

I trust, then, that in light of even this brief and inadequate explanation, it may be seen that physical and spiritual discipline in one’s personal life (and therefore in relationships) properly falls under the heading of true Christianity. Obedience to the law becomes a bad thing only when it is for the sake of the law, for appearances before men, or when it is in done in expectation of creature merit before God. When we obey out of love, in response to inexplicable grace, we obtain the real benefits of such obedience – closeness in communion with the Father, tenderness of conscience, resistance to temptation, acute awareness of our own failings and a growing abhorrence of sin might be mentioned at the top of that list. Further, we must not forget that Scripture does remind us that in some sense we will be taken to task by Jesus himself for our conduct on earth, and rewarded (or not rewarded) accordingly. Passages demostrating this truth are too numerous for me to remember an exact reference at the moment. We must live each hour, then, with our hearts aware that we will give an account for that hour before the one who gave His Only Begotten for us.

May our lives be directed by grace, remembering that though we are to conform to the rule of law inasmuch as it is possible in this life, we are now, by grace, under no condemnation from that law (Romans 8), and in thankfulness may we each pursue the heart of God.

old number 28

Thank you for reading this, my twenty-eighth post. It is an honor and a singular achievement for you to have come this far with me. In this post, you may find exciting information heretofore unrevealed. You may not. My reward is in the gross indulgence of the expectation that you will, indeed, frequent this website more often than I update it and so come across new entries in a more than timely manner. I’m not sure what your reward in reading is.

Without further ado, however, the writer continues to the point of the post, which is, more precisely, that he has obtained the interest of a certain acquaintance; further, that this acquaintance has gained the interest of the writer; finally, that the mutual interest between them is such that they have resorted to becoming what is (in the parlance of our times) known as “an item.” Indeed, the writer has sunken to denoting his interested acquaintance as “girlfriend” on some occasions, abandoning all prospects of common decency and proper understanding, and allowing an astonished public to assume what they will about the manner of their association. The writer intends in the present discussion to disclose the truth of the matter, eliminating the possibility of flagrant misunderstandings and false rumours to the contrary. Several points will be examined:

1. What is the origin of this acquaintance,
2. In what does their association consist, and
3. A rebuttal to the false speculations which may be spread.

1. What is the origin of this acquaintance?

We may begin with the general notion that all that comes to pass is the direct result of the foreordination of God the Father, in whom we live and move and have our acquaintances. Presuming that the reader is familiar with this point in detail, the writer shall not press further upon it. The circumstances surrounding this occurrence were religious in nature; that they occurred on a lake in New Hampshire is further evidence which may be put to the theory of divine interposition. While playing instruments and singing before the Lord, leading the people, the writer became aware of a woman who was singing the praises of our Lord with him in a distinct and beautiful tone. Awareness turned to interest, multiplied by several degrees upon the discovery of her interest in giants of the faith (Jonathan Edwards and the Puritans). When, through further conversation (and this far beyond hours of propriety by any standard) it was established that she (who is named Jen) was one of comparable understanding and incomparable beauty, the writer was forced to summon his courage, and when that failed, the courage of several other people, in order to make her aware of his more than casual interest in her company. Thanks be to God, she responded in kind.

2. In what does their association consist?

Inasmuch as all such relations between men and women must be defined and governed by some rule or understanding, all tend to suffer from a lack of useful definition due to the individualism of our age and the resistance of youth to broad categorization. In order to (hopefully) avoid this pitfall, the writer will here disclose the agreed upon terms of his relationship, intending no injustice to history or the present by whatever may be inadequate in what follows.

Once upon a time, there was a general respect for human relations and a certain propriety in the practice of coupling. The dignity of human sexuality was nearly a general understanding, and the sanctity of the ordinance of marriage was a cultural presupposition. This is no longer the case. However, in the interest of maintaining an old tradition that should never have died in principle, the nature of their association falls more under the heading of what could be called courtship than under the modern conceptual heading known as “dating.” In this relationship, physical manifestations of affection are intended to be minimized (out of respect for one another) until marriage, should that be the outcome. Time spent with one another is purposed for conversation and deepening of the knowledge of God and each other rather than mindless entertainment. This time, far from being a drudgery, is rather the highlight of the passing weeks.

3. A rebuttal to false speculations that may be spread:

Primary among these speculations may be the idea that the writer has now run off the beaten path of grace into the briar patch of legalism. If by “legalist” the critic means “one who is frantically in the pursuit of holiness before God,” then he is not far from the mark; he has just defined his terms incorrectly. Other assumptions may include that the writer (or even Jen) is impulsive, and does not think through his actions. Those who say these things have received their reward in full. Some may think that the writer is pretentious and silly for posting the current news in this manner. Those people are correct, but the writer remains unmoved by their disgust. A few readers may actually wonder whether they will make it through the slough of this lengthy, verbose post; if they do, then they should be ready for the reading of light Puritan treatises.

The writer owes much to his readers for their encouragement and their indulgence of his self-aggrandizement. Consider yourself thanked for reading, and know that Jen and I are doing well after little more than a week together. I will talk to all of you soon.