Monday, July 24, 2006

I didn't find the church service today particularly inspiring, but when I looked over at him, I was struck by the beauty of him just playing the guitar.

I think I should feel bad about this. But I don't.


Anonymous
12:17:49 AM

5 comments:

thewordofrashi said...

There is an old Jewish folktale that this reminds me of. Hopefully, it will make you feel better. I shall tell it as best I can.

Once upon a time, there was a young Jewish kitchen boy that belonged to a family of wealthy Jews. He assisted in all household chores - cooking, cleaning, mending clothes, etc. But he also had a particularly special skill. This boy was a very gifted flute player. His family, of course, knew this, and on occasion they would ask him to play for them, but for the most part, they paid him no mind.

Well, as it happens, the High Holidays were approaching, the holiest period of the year for the Jews. Rosh Hashana (the Jewish New Year) came and went, and it had arrived at Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the year for the Jewish people. The whole of the wealthy family spent the day at services, and at around mid afternoon, they came home for the break between the afternoon service and the evening service.

When it came time for the evening service, specifically the Ne'ilah service, which is perhaps the most holy, sacred, and spiritual service in all of Judaism, the family once again prepared to leave for shul, in one last ditch effort to cleanse themselves of the sins they had committed during the previous year. And the young kitchen boy begged to be allowed to beg. Oy, did he beg! But the father sternly told him that he must remain at home in order to prepare the break fast meal. And so the family set off.

Well, the boy, feeling suddenly rebellious, decided that he was not going to stay home and cook the meal. He was about to leave for the synagogue, when he caught himself and said aloud in anguish, "But wait! I do not know Hebrew, the sacred language of my ancestors!" But at that moment, and angel came down from Heaven and said to the boy, "You do not need to know Hebrew in order to pray to the Holy One (Blessed be His name). Pray as your heart tells you." The boy thought on this for a moment, shrugged, grabbed his flute. and left for the synagogue.

Meanwhile, at the synagogue, services were getting longer and longer and longer. The people were getting hungry, but the rabbi refused to end the fast, as the gates to Heaven were still open - the Holy One (Blessed be He) had not decided that the pleas for forgiveness were adequate. And so the service went on and on, long into the night.

Soon, however, the boy arrived. He was, of course, not permitted into the main sanctuary, as he had no ticket; instead, he sat outside the walls and took out his flute and began to play. He played with all of his heart and all of his soul. He put everything he had into producing that beautiful, sweet music, praying that it would go all the way up to Heaven and please God.

Well, that music began to permeate the sanctuary, as it began to grow louder and louder. "What is that music?" people began to ask, "and who is playing it?"
But the moment that the beautiful music reached the ears of the great rabbi, he declared with relief, "The Gates of Heaven have been sealed! The fast is over!" And with the final great blast of the shofar, a piercing, wailing cry of finality, the Day of Atonement ended.

The moral of the story: Divine inspiration can be found anywhere. The very fact that you found his playing of the guitar so beautiful - that is the presence of God, right there. And if you take the purpose of going to church, synagogue, mosque, whatever to be to foster a relationship with God, to grow closer to God, then by all means you accomplished your mission.

Lila Tov.

PChis said...

I believe that's the whole reason everyone has music at religious services, so we can connect with god through the beauty of music if not through the philosophy of the sermon (and hopefully both I suppose).

Anonymous said...

Oh, completely, Pchis. There have been very direct times when I've felt God's presence during music, so I completely agree with you there.

Rashi- Beautiful story. Really. Thank you.

Anonymous said...

God is not only in your pastor/priest/rabbi/elder/teacher's voice.
God is in the music.
God is in the sunset.
God is in Times Square and microchips and flower-smelling things.
God is in your calculus textbook and in your art classroom.

God's pretty much everywhere - and if you try hard enough, and are wired properly for it, you can connect with God through a lot of things.

(Nature, art and music work for me, by the way.)

Anonymous said...

oooh i bet god really hates you for that, after all a supreme being would really care.