My mom came in to kiss me good night and sat down on the edge of my bed. "You have a big day tomorrow,” she said and paused, “I'm so excited about your performance; you have a real gift from above." Her whole face brightened up.
I felt like a little boy and asked her, "Where did you kiss dad for the first time?"
"Right on the stairs of your music school. That building looked like a royal palace and your father was a charming prince,” was her answer.
"And…did he propose to you right then?" I continued.
"No, he simply said that I was his princess and at that moment I knew that our marriage was meant to be," she said.
True, it was a very big day for me. A big celebration was organized for all of our high school graduates. It was taking place in the magnificent banquet hall at our music school. I, as a contest winner, was chosen to play a solo part--accompanied by our city orchestra. That was the highest moment I've ever lived through; but something else made it even more extraordinary… As I got on the stage, I saw her--a beauty. Was she in the school all the time and I never noticed her?! Maybe she was a stranger here…anyway, she looked like a mysterious princess of a fairytale, that appeared in the middle of a banquet. She smiled at me and my heart started to vibrate so fast…something was so pleasant about her. A strange presence, which illuminated her from the inside, was emanating all around her as a delightful brightness.
And I played. That was my best performance ever. When the applause has ceased, the conductor turned to me and said, "You played like a prince today. I'm sure you're going to be a great musician one day and we will all be honored to know you!"
I looked into the admiring crowd, trying to find that girl again, but could not. I went to look for her, but she was nowhere to be found; she simply disappeared.
Finally, I went outside to get some fresh air and paused on the stairs, remembering my mom's story. The guys from the music school were hanging out in the yard, smoking. They looked at me and one of them exclaimed, "Ah, here comes the great musician! The prince! Are you looking for fame and honor? Come here, we'll help you with recognition!" And they all started to approach me, ready to fall upon me, like a hawk on its prey. I prepared myself to fight, but the shock immobilized my entire body. In a second, they thrust me onto the stairs and started to kick me with their feet. The touch of their shoes, especially on my face, was most humiliating and even more painful than the strikes. Suddenly one of them shouted, "Someone’s coming! Let's get out quickly!" And in another second, they all escaped into the dark. I sat down on those stairs--bleeding, hurting and desperate. My whole future was collapsing in my mind. I put my wounded head down and cried.
At that moment someone came and sat down on the stairs right next to me. The touch of his shoulder was comforting. Only a close friend would do that, I thought, and opened my eyes. Of cause, I recognized him; he was a door keeper in our music school. He was always there, all those years. I never spoke to him though.
"Who is the lamentation for?” he finally inquired, “Did someone pass away?” I tried to come up with a logical answer, "It was a very important day in my life. I expected to experience a real high, but instead I fell so low!"
The old man closed his eyes. For a minute I thought that he might fall asleep right there on the stairs; but his answer revealed that he had heard exactly what I had said. "I agree;” he responded, “it is a very important day for you. As in music, so in life. A sharp is for the elevation of a note and a flat serves to lower it; but not much, only half a tone. You are a musician; you should understand that. It might take a lifetime to become a good one though."
I thought of a quicker solution, "What about a gift? You don't have to wait a lifetime to use it!"
He helped me to get up, as if I were an old man and he was my age. "Come with me;” he said, “your wounds need to be cleansed first." We went into a little room with different kinds of cleaning equipment. "Feel at home;” he said, “everyone knows me here, since I volunteer to clean in the music school.” As we sat down, he picked up the conversation, "You say ‘a gift’… The gift is like a divine spark on the inside; it has been given, rather entrusted, to a person for a purpose. But you need to approach it with care, otherwise you will never discover what it is capable of.”
Many years ago, this very building was the palace of a great Prince. Music was the passion of his life, and many musicians played in this very auditorium where you played tonight. One day the great Prince announced his search for original, inspiring musicians. Soon this unusual quest was heard far beyond his county, and musicians started to travel all over the world to play before the great Prince. There were no conditions--they didn't have to be famous, rich or even play perfectly. He declared that those who would move his heart with their music would be taken into his royal palace to become his personal musicians. And many came to try their fortune--all different kinds of musicians.
Indeed, it was quite a title, A personal musician of the great Prince. Most of those who came didn't seem to have any genuine interest in playing music; they just wanted to take advantage of that unique opportunity to hold a leading position in the country. They sought promotion, which represented to them, a leadership position with influence. Their music could not be heard, the sound evaporated the very second, they made it, it was not able to reach anyone. The great Prince was rather creative in expressing his judgment--defining their music as the barking of a dog or the braying of a donkey.
Still, many of those musicians who came to play before the great Prince had real talent and played beautifully. Their sound was pleasant to the ears and some of them were virtuoso on their instruments.
"So, the great Prince took all of them in?" I ask, jumping ahead of the story.
"No, there was some sort of conflict in the atmosphere, a collision between two realities. One reality represented a divine spark, the gift from above, that you mentioned earlier; and the other one was represented by their soul.
"Hey! Wait a minute,” I interrupted him, “Everyone's got a soul-- me too. Does that mean that I'm not good enough as a musician?"
"This is the whole matter;” let me explain, “the soul we possess represents our personality and every single note of our musical expression has to pass through the soul--it's always involved. The problem is that our soul has a tendency to puff up in pride--especially when real talent is present. It says to the spark: It's my ability! Things should be under my management here! I'm in charge over this musical expression from now on!’ Through reasons and arguments, it pushes the little fragile spark down and takes all the space."
I quieted down. I could certainly recognize that demanding voice in my own soul. At the same time, I remembered those amazing moments when I heard music which was moving like a wind, that enveloped your being in a glorious light. The conflict he described was very real inside me. I asked him, "Is it possible to simply dispossess this soul with its ugly demands? Can its ambitions just fall off of me--like leaves from a tree?"
"Hmm…Interesting point of view,” he said. “I never heard that this happened to anyone. I wish it were that easy--simply to change your behavior, like clothes. But the soul is hidden deep inside a person and from there it spreads its influence into every area of their life. The spark is locked up and immobilized as long as the soul is the manager. No simple formula can solve this conflict. The purpose is not to destroy the soul, but to liberate the spark from under its control. And the Eternal God, Himself--the Giver of the spark--comes in as a surgeon, to cut the grip of the soul off of the spark. He intervenes for the sake of His own investment. The release of the spark requires serious surgery; whatever blocks the free flow of the spark must be removed--whether it's a big chunk or a small spatter. Sometimes the resistance of the soul is so strong, that the surgeon may need to reduce its activity in one way or another. From the outside it might look like a final stop. But true music never stops; it is simply a pause for a purpose.”
"But if you switch off the soul, what would be left for music?" I still didn't understand.
"No, you do not ‘switch it off;’” he said, “you just put it in its rightful place. It always tries to act out, but cannot go far. It always returns to the same place, like a swing, being attached to a bar with its self-made rules. It can only provide an illusion of a change. But once the surgery is done, the spark takes over. Everything comes alive in the music domain. The waters of life gush forward as a mighty river. The soul itself is gladly caught up in that movement. It was created to follow the flow of the spark! Oh! If only musicians would let the surgeon proceed and operate! They would experience true rest and comfort for their souls; they would reach the land of their desire, for only the spark can lead them there.”
“Meanwhile, the soul of a musician gets busy guessing what’s coming next: here should be a sharp and here comes a flat! Trust my experience. I understand harmony; I'm not a beginner! - it can easily wear you out with its content demands of recognition. Everyone is familiar with the voice of his soul”
I had to interrupt:” But it's true! Every music key has its sharps or flats! All the years I studied music theory, are they now wasted?”
"No, but the Eternal God holds all the keys and, in every situation, He will decide which one He needs to use. He is the composer of life-giving music and He knows exactly how your instrument would sound best. Once the spark of life is free to move, the music will become so natural for you--like breathing in and out. And every breath will resonate with that glorious sound of eternity. I've heard music that comes from a purified vessel. It has a sound that lifts you up and carries you on its wings. When people see the end result, they all can agree that it's a miracle; but they do not understand how it happened."
"Wow! How can I ever get there? I need to know more about that mysterious surgery! Do you know anyone who made it through?”
“Well… - he paused and smiled. - There were quite a few of them in the music school. Have you ever heard about Joseph, for example? He has an amazing story and people are still talking about him today.”
“He was one of the youngest boys in a very big family,” he continued. “His older brothers had to work hard; but he was too young to join them. His father favored Joseph more than his other children and didn't hide it. It led to hatred within the family."
"I understand,” I nodded my hurting head in agreement; “the orchestra conductor praised me today in front of the other students and I got hit as a result".
"You see, what happened to you is quite common, but for Joseph, it got even more intense. He had two prophetic dreams, in which the God of heaven showed him that he was predestined to become a leader and have great influence and honor. And, also, in spite of his present position in the family, even his own brothers would one day bow down before him," he said.
“Wow…"
"Yes, from the side it looked very impressive; but for Joseph, this great responsibility waiting for him in the future, presented a rather challenging journey that he had to endure. He had to be made fit for the task God had for him.
"What do you mean, ‘fit for the task’?"
"Every musician, before he can play, must learn to make a clear sound,” he explained. “Many ‘so called’ musicians will try to skip that part and simply play, but we're not talking about those. The true musicians have to have their sound purified first and that is where the surgery comes in.”
“Sharing his prophetic dreams with his family led to a rebuke by his father, and strong, unstoppable hatred from his brothers. They decided to get rid of Joseph, and one day there was an opportunity. His experience was a tough one--he was insulted, beaten, despised and treated with contempt. His own brothers threw him into a pit. He was lying there hurting; his dreams were dashed in pieces”.
"Did God also get angry at Joseph?" I asked.
"No. God loved him and watched over him. But He needed to purify His chosen vessel and make him pass through many different tests," he said.
"So, what happened next?" I asked.
"The God of heaven sent an Egyptian caravan into that place and Joseph was sold into Egypt as a slave. Can you imagine? Now he was harmed, debased and totally alienated from his family and home. But God kept His eyes on Joseph at all times. He arranged the circumstances in a way that the captain of the palace guard bought him. Very soon he noticed his exceptional qualities and promoted Joseph to be the head of his household," he added.
"That was a miraculous promotion to leadership,” I exclaimed, since the story started to make sense to me--there was a sharp!
"The surgery was not over though, and more trouble came his way--this time through his master's wife. She cast her eyes on Joseph and started nagging him daily to commit adultery with her. He could have easily agreed and taken advantage of his master's trust, but chose an attitude of integrity. One day, she was so persistent that the only option left for Joseph was to flee. The story got twisted, and Joseph, falsely accused, was thrown into prison for many years," he said.
"A flat! …Wait, did you say ‘many years?!" - I felt puzzled.
"There in prison, Joseph's life became a miracle. He didn't just survive the process, but came out as a victor. All through those afflictions he stayed connected to the eternal spark that helped him to make right decisions”.
One day, the surgeon put his knife aside and announced, "I perceive a clear sound!" And the surgery was over. "Now let us hear him play,” he added and started to unfold the events.
“The life of Joseph served as an instrument in God's hands to bring about mighty salvation to both Israel and Egypt. And those prophetic dreams came true; his brothers came, seeking food, and bowered down before Joseph--the Prince of Egypt. He could have taken advantage of his position and throw them into prison, but instead of vengeance, forgiveness came forth. And now everyone, both Joseph and his brothers, were in wonder of the music they heard”.
He took a deep breath and concluded: “There were many great musicians who shaped history. Before they could produce a clear, soul piercing sound, a miracle had to take place”.
I forgot about my pain and looked at the old man, "Are you a musician? Instead of answering, he got up and stretched his hand to me, "I see you're feeling better already. Come with me, I'll show you my favorite room in the music school."
As we moved along the narrow, dark corridors, I noticed that he could find his way with his eyes closed, as if he had spent all his life in this building. "This music school is your home, isn't it?” - I thought out loud. He didn't even turn his head, but kept walking.
"You're right,” he responded. “That great Prince I've told you about was my great grandfather. So many years have passed. Everything is different these days. Well, almost everything, except for the music. Ah, here is the room.” He opened the door of a storage room where many instruments were kept. All of a sudden, his eyes lighted up with a spark of inspiration. He picked up a little harmonica from the shelf and put it to his mouth. A beautiful clear sound came forth. He laid it in its place, but it continued to resonate. Then he picked up many different wind instruments--trumpet, trombone, saxophone--one after another, and blew into each one of them. Then he went and started a simple melody on a xylophone; then he touched the strings of a harp. All those instruments suddenly became alive and continued to vibrate in perfect harmony.
“How is this possible?” - I wondered; but I couldn't ask him any more questions. He looked at me and said: "When you learn to follow that divine spark, the Eternal God, Himself, will play on the instrument of your life. He will reveal His life giving, endless presence through your music, and many will come to know Him. This is the land that He promised to us, an eternal inheritance.”
Suddenly, we both heard the sound of approaching heels—a woman’s shoes--and looked at each other. Before I could ask anything, the door opened and that same girl that I saw before the concert entered the room!
"Hi, Grandpa,” she said, and went to sit down next to the old man. “We didn't know what happened, it's so late…” He kissed her on the forehead and looked at me, "I want to introduce you to my granddaughter." I took a long pause…then finally responded: “I think we've already met…at the concert…" I wanted to say more, but didn't know where to start.
They got up to go. "Wait a minute!” I exclaimed, “If she is your granddaughter and you are the great grandson of the great Prince, then she is a descendant of royalty!” "You're right, she is a real princess. - He smiled at me, - By the way, I forgot to mention, when you follow the divine spark, things that seem too wonderful to be true, suddenly appear."