Franz Liszt was a child prodigy on the piano. Born in Hungary in 1811, he played his first concert at the age of eight. After moving to Vienna with his family, he studied piano with Carl Czerny and composition with Antonio Salieri. He played the piano before nobility and royalty, and he met the greatest musicians of his day, including Chopin, Berlioz, Mendelssohn, and Beethoven. At the age of twenty, he had a reputation as one of the finest pianists in Europe. Then he had an encounter with another musician that changed his life. Liszt had heard of the great violinist Paganini, who was the greatest virtuoso violinist of his time, perhaps of all time, and in 1831 he had the opportunity to hear him perform. He was awestruck. The ease with which Paganini played musical passages that defied other accomplished violinists astonished him, and the sound that the master coaxed from his violin was astounding. Liszt decided that night that he was no longer satisfied with being a good pianist; he wanted to become the greatest pianist who had ever lived. To this end, Liszt shut himself in his room, practicing for as many as ten hours a day, hardly emerging for weeks at a time. Finally, after an extended period of relative seclusion, he emerged from his practice room and again began to play in public. But now he was a different pianist. Good, even great before his encounter with Paganini, Liszt was now able to play music on the piano that no one had ever imagined possible. He transcribed many of the violin solos of Paganini for piano, and because there were no pieces written for the piano that were challenging enough for him, he wrote his own. His pieces were of immense technical difficulty and sublime beauty. His Hungarian Rhapsody #2 begins in C# minor (4 sharps), transitions to F# minor (3 sharps), and ends in F# major (6 sharps). After a few slow introductory measures, the piece moves into a section marked Andante (moderately slow), which would be easy enough to play if not for the measures filled with thirty-second notes and the grace note cadenzas. Then the piece gets really fast, starting off Vivace and ending with Prestissimo octave runs, all the measures filled with unbelievable numbers of accidentals. It is a piece of haunting beauty and capricious joy, and for decades after its composition, no one other than Liszt had the technical prowess to do justice to the song, or many other of Liszt's compositions. The key to Liszt's success as a pianist, aside from his innate ability, was his decision to withdraw from society for a time in preparation for a re-launching of his career with a new fervor. After Jesus' ascension, his disciples--men and women alike--remained in Jerusalem for ten days. Rather than rush out immediately to tell the public the good news of Jesus' resurrection, they devoted themselves to prayer. After such exciting and moving experiences as they had had, why didn't they rush out to tell others the good news? They didn't because they understood, as Jesus himself had told them, that they weren't yet prepared for the task. They had had the training, but now they needed the spiritual foundation. Like Liszt, the disciples withdrew from the world for a short period of time to prepare for great things ahead, and on Pentecost, they burst upon the public with a power unlike any the world had seen. What are we doing to prepare ourselves to serve God? When we feel God's urging to act, do we take the time necessary to prepare ourselves? Do we take a regular spiritual inventory of ourselves? Do we spend adequate time in spiritual retreats--whether in actual retreat centers or in secluded parts of nature or quiet parts of the house--to get ready for the task before us? The Christian life requires action, but before we can act, we need to prepare.
Let God arise and let his enemies be scattered, Let God arise and let his enemies be scattered, Let God arise and let his enemies be scattered, O praise, O praise his name! For Yahweh our God is mighty and strong, And all the nations praise his name. Girded with splendor, awesome in power: King of glory, God Most High is he! Let God arise and let his enemies be scattered, Let God arise and let his enemies be scattered, Let God arise and let his enemies be scattered, O praise, O praise his name!I wrote this song while living in South Africa several years ago after reading the story in Numbers 10:35 about the words Moses instructed the people to say whenever they began a journey, as the Ark of the Covenant went before them. It has a catchy little tune (I think), but after writing it I had to ask myself, "Who are God's enemies?" Psalm 68 begins with the battle cry of the Ark, then elaborates on the theme. Part of the psalm describes the Israelite army as victorious in battle over their enemies, but I don't think that God's enemies are the same as Israel's enemies, nor do I think they are the same as America's enemies today. God's enemies are not a particular ethnic group, a specific nation, or practitioners of one religious tradition or another. The only enemies God has are those who oppose the work of God in the world. The psalmist describes God as father of orphans, protector of widows, and provider for the needy. The U.S. has spent $300 billion since 2002 on the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, and it spends $17.6 billion per year to maintain its nuclear arsenal. Aside from the immediately destructive uses to which much of this money is put, it is money that is diverted from the tremendous amount of good that it could do, like feed the poor; fight AIDS, malaria, and other chronic illnesses; provide homes for the homeless; or ensure that all children everywhere get a good education. When our governments support spending priorities that are so out of touch with the real needs of the world, they are acting as enemies of God. But we can't just blame government leaders, for we sometimes act as God's enemies, too. When we support policies that benefit ourselves but hurt the most vulnerable people around the world, we are God's enemies. When we pass up the opportunity to make a positive impact on the life of an at-risk child, we are God's enemies. When we spend so much money on ourselves that we have nothing left to give to relief organizations, we are God's enemies. The fact of the matter is, we are all God's enemies from time to time, because our actions show that we are more concerned with our own immediate wellbeing--and that of our family, friends, and nation--than we are about those the psalmist says that God is most concerned about: orphans, widows, and the poor. The good news is that God doesn't hold a grudge. Though we have acted as God's enemies in the past, we can change our behavior and get on God's side in the future. No one needs to remain an enemy of God, and God has no interest in having any enemies at all. On the contrary, God sent wisdom teachers, prophets, and even God's own son to reconcile us to God. If we resist God, we will ultimately lose. Isn't it time to get on God's side?
About 300 people have been killed so far this week in various insurgent attacks in Iraq. Ordinary Iraqis have gone from the hell of living under Saddam Hussein to the hell of living in today's Iraq. Despite desperate attempts by the American government to portray the insurgents as losing their resolve, this week's death toll suggests otherwise. Neither the American troops nor the new Iraqi government have figured out how to stem the tide of attacks, many by suicide bombers. While they are working on the problem, it is primarily innocent Iraqi citizens who suffer. Christians living in parts of Asia Minor toward the end of the first century were suffering unjustly because of their faith. Though their suffering did not rival the trials faced by today's Iraqis (though outbreaks of persecution in the third and early fourth centuries would result in thousands of innocent Christians' deaths), their pain, fear, and sorrow were real enough. The author of 1 Peter, while acknowledging their suffering, tells them that they should not be surprised at the "fiery ordeal" they are undergoing, for they are just sharing in Christ's sufferings. We are uncomfortable with the idea of suffering, so we often try our best to avoid it. We go along with the crowd because we want to fit in; we have no desire to be an outcast. When a co-worker tells unflattering gossip about another colleague, we keep our mouths closed. When someone insults a member of a different ethnic group or religion, we don't raise our voices. When people make remarks that reflect blatant homophobia, we remain silent. It's true that you have to pick your battles, but all too often we concede every battle without the least resistance. If we are reluctant to suffer in small ways because of our commitment to Christ's teachings, how do we think we would fare if we were faced with much stiffer persecution? Many of the people in Iraq are facing their difficult lives with courage and faith. We Christians who live relatively comfortable lives need to learn to live with courage and faith as well. There are times when confrontation with other people should be avoided, and there are times when we have to stand up and be counted on the side of right. May God give us the grace to know which is which, and the courage to take a stand when necessary.
"When we've been there ten thousand years, bright shining as the sun, we've no less days to sing God's praise than when we first begun." This line from the hymn "Amazing Grace" describes the way in which we often view eternal life. We see it as life that goes on and on and lasts forever. That is one possible interpretation of the word, one that corresponds with the word "everlasting," but there is another way to look at the concept. Jesus prays to God, concerning his disciples, "This is eternal life, that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent." Jesus describes a mode of existence that is different from ordinary life not quantitatively but qualitatively. The literal translation of the Greek word in question is "timeless," which is exactly what "eternal" actually means, etymologically speaking. Eternal life, according to Jesus, consists in coming to an intimate knowledge of God. This knowledge of God is not knowledge about God, of which I spoke at some length in last week's commentary on Acts. Our ability to know God in that way is inherently limited by the vastness of the subject. On the other hand, we are perfectly capable of knowing God in the sense of communing with God, spending time with God, and enjoying God. Jesus was describing a knowledge of God that is not reflected by the German word wissen, "to know about," but by the word kennen, "to know personally." One of my former pastors used to say that the goal of the Christian life was twofold: to know God and to make God known. I agree with that, though my concepts of both getting to know God (communion) and making God known (evangelism) have changed dramatically over the years. I believe that there are many different ways to get to know God. Prayer and Bible study, those pillars of my evangelical upbringing, are certainly important paths to knowing God, but they by no means exhaust the ways in which we can get to know God better (this concept is reflected in the German kennenlernen). Other ways of getting to know God include meditating, experiencing God through worship or the beauty of nature or the inspiration of art or music, participating in the church's ordinances or sacraments (e.g., the eucharist), having fellowship with other people of faith (Christian and non-Christian), serving others in God's name, and observing current events with a theological eye. Making God known, or evangelism, involves not just verbal communication of the "fundamentals of the faith," but also acting out our faith in service to others, working to alleviate human suffering in all its forms, and reflecting theologically on our own actions and those of others. God invites us to participate in eternal life, which consists in knowing God.