When Jesus wrote me into His Baymonte Composition this fall, I thought I was coming to teach music. It turns out He brought me here to learn the melody of His musicians. I don’t have clarinets in the key of B flat as much as I have clarinetists in the key of endurance. Instead of just introducing pitches and motions to my kindergarten and first grade musicians, God has introduced me to kindergarten theologians and first grade professors. He has deepened music-making into the beauty of relationship, both between musicians and with The Musician Himself. The best part of making music with all of the Baymonte students God has gathered here is seeing God orchestrate harmonies I couldn’t have imagined. Just like when He transformed five loaves, two fish, and willingness to look foolish (faith) into miraculous fellowship and feast, He takes our tools, talents, and tentative tries, and He turns them into rich musical exchange: lives overlapping through music. Let me give you an example from last Sunday.
“I’m soooo nervous!” my bright-eyed first grade musician blurted out.
The Christmas-colored choir huddled in their “tall” and “short” line just off-stage. I told them they weren’t nervous but excited, encouraging them to smile as they shared their voices and their reindeer-Merry-Christmas-cards with the grey-haired audience waiting eagerly around the corner. I should have told them what my advance band talked about today as we debriefed this very same concert: good things come at a cost. Sometimes nervousness and willingness to put yourself out there is the first step to making a new friend. So, on they went. We brought our voices. The band brought instruments. We offered our tools and talents: song sheets, red and green construction paper, scales, embouchures… We brought tentative tries: “What’s your name?” “Without further ado, let’s welcome…” “Can I share lyrics with you?” God multiplied our musical offering into His harmony, a melody beyond what I could have imagined. I don’t think I’ll forget His orchestration of the last carol we sang together: Silent Night. I looked over at two hands holding firmly to the crisp page of lyrics, one wrinkled and unsteady, the other smooth and small. 70 and 7-year-olds lifted up their voices, “Son of God, Love’s Pure Light…”
The best part of the Baymonte Composition is that it’s not over yet. I hope you will join me in praying over our annual Christmas Concert this upcoming Tuesday, and I look forward to seeing you there as we celebrate the Light of God’s presence. May God continue to glorify His name, orchestrating our tools, talents, and tries into harmony beyond what we could ask for or imagine. Soli Deo Gloria!