Why Tannhäuser?

I play violin in the Chippewa Valley Symphony, and we performed Wagner’s Tannhäuser Overture for our holiday concert this year. I didn’t get it. Other years we’ve played many movements from the Nutcracker Suite. (We just performed three of the dances this year.) We’ve played parts of Handel’s Messiah. We programmed festive dances one year. But why Tannhäuser? It didn’t fit.

In one rehearsal Nobu, our conductor, admitted that it was a bait-and-switch, or rather a bait-and-add. Draw the audience in to hear holiday music and a local artist. Then give them a real symphonic experience with one of our selections.

I still didn’t think it fit.

Then we got on stage. We tuned. Notes of Wagner filled the air. It worked. The emotions were right. This is what Christmas is about.

The opera Tannhäuser is about a man who seeks love in the wrong place, in the castle of Venus. Afterwards, he desires forgiveness for these sins. He joins pilgrims on their journey to Rome, but even the pope cannot forgive him. The pope declares it would be just as probable that the pope’s staff sprout leaves as it would be for Tannhäuser to obtain forgiveness.

The opera ends with Tannhäuser’s death. He asks a young lady to pray for him. And the pope’s staff sprouts leaves.

Yes, God can offer us forgiveness for things that no church can absolve. Religion in itself cannot wash away our sins, but Jesus can. He was born on earth 2,000 years ago to take the punishment for our sins so that God can be just in declaring us not guilty. That is Christmas.

“But when the fullness of the time had come, God sent forth His Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, that we might receive the adoption as sons.” Galatians 4:4-5 NKJV

My Fantastic Boring Day

A friend asked me last night how my day was. I can’t remember what I said. Something nondescript. Okay? Good? Fine?

He replied, “Not fantastic?”

Well, it was a pretty ordinary day. I ate the same thing for breakfast that I always eat – scrambled eggs and toast. I worked all day. I went to orchestra rehearsal in the evening. I guess that means I never go hungry, I have a fulfilling job that pays the bills, and I have friends who enjoy making music together. Nothing tragic happened. That’s pretty fantastic.

As we enter the holiday season, I think of my friends who are going through difficult times, those who have lost loved ones. If you’re one of those friends, please know I’m praying for you.

If you’re not facing tragedy, if you’re more like me, sometimes wondering if life is in a rut, join me in praising God this Thanksgiving for blessing us with so many fantastic boring days.

Forever Is a Beautiful Word

I just stuck a forever stamp on an envelope and carried it out to the mailbox. I’m not sure the stamp will be good forever. But I believe in forever.

I believe that the real Jennifer is not my body that will die. The real me is inside that body and will live forever. That is the reason nothing on this earth quite satisfies my soul. God made me for eternity. He made me forever.

“You will show me the path of life; In Your presence is fullness of joy; At Your right hand are pleasures forevermore.” Psalm 16:11 NKJV

The Power of [Or] in the Search for Truth

As I mentioned in my last post, my alma mater has embarked on an ad campaign about “The Power of [And].” However, I have found the little word or gets me much further in my search for truth.

In our pluralistic culture, we are nervous about saying one thing is right and another is wrong. Be tolerant. Keep an open mind. Relativism is good. Absolutism is bad.

But in The Closing of the American Mind, Allan Bloom suggested relativism itself closed our minds. People always knew different cultures had different opinions about good and bad. The historian Herodotus considered this a challenge to study nations and their cultures to learn what was good and bad in each. Relativists say we must not judge. We must respect them all.

That leads to a problem. If all cultures are equally good, why should I invest time and energy to study all of them? I can learn about a couple. Enjoy their music. Eat their food. And go on with life. My life is fine the way it is.

But if absolute truth exists, if there is an ultimate good, it is worth searching for it. I will sell all I have for that priceless pearl. Education becomes a quest. My mind is open because I want to know.

What direction do we want to take? We can approach our studies with both/and logic. Diverse cultures are equally good. Let’s have an international festival and then go on our merry way.

Otherwise, we can take the either/or approach. Deep understanding of cultures reveals conflicting value systems. One or the other is right. They cannot both be. Am I courageous enough to dig this deep? Will I admit that my culture isn’t always right? Will I change the way I live when I find a better way? Am I brave enough to state graciously when an aspect of my culture is better? This is the only way to grow in truth.

I choose “The Power of [Or].”

The Power of [Or]

My alma mater, UW Eau Claire, began an ad campaign last spring. It’s all about their new branding, “The Power of [And].” There is some truth in the ads. Students at UWEC aren’t pigeonholed into one discipline. They can be a “business woman and bicyclist” or “entrepreneur and entertainer.” Reaching beyond our primary field, putting an and in our lives, takes us out of our comfort zone and stretches us as human beings. But we do our students and community a disservice if we forget “The Power of [Or].”

As a private music teacher, I watch my students reach the maturing stage of or. When they are young, they can do this and that and the other thing. In middle school and high school, they must make choices. Their time is limited. Will they do another sport or practice violin? Will they be in the school play or join the youth symphony? Will they pursue dance or choir or forensics?

We mature as we face the or decisions in our lives. These decisions force us to define our purpose and refine our goals. We confront tough questions. What is most valuable? What matters in life?

Every or question has an element of tension, maybe even conflict. It is in that tension where we grow. Do I have the courage to live in the or?

When God Says No – Part 2

In my last post I wrote about a time when Jesus said no to His own hunger. “Big deal,” we think. Our troubles go much deeper than an empty stomach. Broken relationships. Evil. Pain. What does God say about these?

There is a sense in which God denied His own desires long before Jesus came to earth. His first great act of self-sacrifice was when He gave us free will. God could have created humans who would do all the right things. We could have been His puppets, and the world would have been perfect. But a puppet cannot love. It cannot have a relationship.

God willingly subjected Himself to the pain of rejection so that a relationship with us would be possible. He gave us the right to say no to Him.

I still don’t have an answer to unanswered prayer. I know one thing. The pain in my life drives me closer to God. I know a second thing. God chose to experience pain Himself to be close to me. That is enough. 

When God Says No – Part 1

I think unanswered prayer troubles all of us. After listening to a sermon this morning, I realized the beauty of the fact that God first said no to Himself.

Jesus fasted for forty days and forty nights. Then Satan tempted Him, saying, “If You are the Son of God, command that these stones become bread.” Jesus said, “No.” Why? 

Ravi Zacharias explained:

 “The marvelous thing about Him was He did not want to draw people by feeding some earthly appetite of theirs. Every leader sooner or later finds out that self-centered appetites are insatiable.  You can never satisfy the one who wants more and more and more bread and the things of this world.”

Jesus knew if He displayed His miraculous ability to create food, people would follow Him for the food and not for the Word of God. So He chose not to make bread, even for Himself.

He made a different choice in John 6:1-13. Jesus had compassion on the people who were hungry and fed five thousand men with five loaves and two fish. Sure enough, they immediately wanted to make Him king.

The next day they searched for Him. They wanted more food.

“Jesus answered them and said, ‘Most assuredly, I say to you, you seek Me, not because you saw the signs, but because you ate of the loaves and were filled. Do not labor for the food which perishes, but for the food which endures to everlasting life, which the Son of Man will give you, because God the Father has set His seal on Him’” (John 6:26-27 NKJV).

If God always gives me what I want, He becomes a cosmic vending machine. Insert prayer; get candy, chips, or trail mix. Sometimes a hunger that causes me to seek God is better than a full stomach that enables me to go my own way.

Jesus refused to turn stones into bread to satisfy His own hunger because He knew it would get in the way of God the Father’s greater purpose. Can I complain when He says no to me?

How My Metronome Got Its Name

My poor metronome went many years without a name. But one day my teacher wrote JIM on my music. “Join In Motion.” You cannot start a solo successfully until you feel the music going already. Listen to the music of the spheres. Join in motion. You will succeed.

I realized this is also the answer to my students’ metronome problems. They turn on the metronome, jump in with their solo and wonder why they can’t stay with that nasty ticking device.

Listen to it. Think the beat. When you have internalized the tempo, you may join in motion.

This is also true in life. We cannot change our actions until we change the way we think. When my thoughts correspond to reality, my life becomes beautiful music.

“And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God.” Romans 12:2

Eat Your Metronome

A wise teacher once told me, “Eat your metronome.” This almost sounds like cannibalism because I like my metronome a lot. I’ve named him Jim, but I call him Mr. Metronome most of the time out of respect.

For the sake of my non-musician friends, a metronome is a device that goes tick-tick-tick. It never speeds up. It never slows down. It’s the law, and it forces me to keep a steady beat.

But there’s one problem with my metronome. It’s outside of me. When I turn it off, my fingers do whatever they want, and sometimes that’s not pretty.

I need the beat in my gut. It needs to possess me. Only then can my fingers and my audience enjoy the music between the beats.

In this way, my metronome reminds me of God. As long as He is outside of me, He is like the law, keeping me from doing what I want to do. But when He possesses me, when I have God in my gut, I have freedom to move between the beats, and the melodies of life are enchanting.

Burning Bridges, Boiling Oxen

What do bridges and oxen have to do with each other? They seem almost as incongruous as the two Bible stories I have been contemplating.

And another also said, “Lord, I will follow You, but let me first go and bid them farewell who are at my house.” But Jesus said to him, “No one, having put his hand to the plow, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.” (Luke 9:61-61 NKJV)

My Bible cross references this to a story in the Old Testament about Elijah and Elisha. Elisha was plowing in the field. Elijah threw his mantle on Elisha.

And he left the oxen and ran after Elijah, and said, “Please let me kiss my father and my mother, and then I will follow you.” And he said to him, “Go back again, for what have I done to you?” (I Kings 19:20 NKJV)

Why did Jesus tell the man he could not go back to say good-bye? Elijah let Elisha go back. The difference is in the heart. Jesus knew the man was clinging to his past. Elisha was letting go. Notice what Elisha did next,

So Elisha turned back from him, and took a yoke of oxen and slaughtered them and boiled their flesh, using the oxen’s equipment, and gave it to the people, and they ate. Then he arose and followed Elijah, and became his servant. (1 Kings 19-21 NKJV)

How often would a farmer use his plowing equipment to start a fire and boil his oxen? Elisha cut ties to his past. He burned the bridges. No going back.

Too often I hang on to my past. I let feelings of past failure control my present. No more. Today I am boiling my oxen. I will not let my past hold me back from the amazing future God has planned for me.

The Value of Art and the Value of Me

We all have holes in our education. The visual arts are one of mine. I am trying to fill this hole, but the art world baffles me. I read a blog post this morning about paintings that sold for over a million dollars. A brief glance at the pictures causes most of us to ask the question, “Why?”

At other times, an unknown artist paints something amazing but barely sells it for enough to pay the light bill. Why?

The free market may be good for setting the price of toothpaste. It is often deeply flawed when valuing art. Why do I trust it to value me?

Like Jim in The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, I listen to what others think I’m worth. Jim decided he was worth $800 because a slave trader wanted to buy him for that amount. What about a crippled slave? A cripple would sell for less, but is his ultimate value as a person less than Jim’s? Who determines our value?

If there is no God, do I have ultimate value? But if there is a God who created me, He sets my value. On days when the world is telling me I’m worthless, I will rest in what God says of me.

          For You formed my inward parts;


          You covered me in my mother’s womb.

          I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;


          Marvelous are Your works,


          And that my soul knows very well. Psalm 139:13-14 NKJV

“I’s Rich Now.”

“Yes; en I's rich now, come to look at it. I owns mysef, en I's wuth eight hund'd dollars,” said Jim in The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.

Jim had been a slave. Now he was free. He knew the worth of that freedom. It made him rich. Do I value my freedom that much?

I Have Called You Friends

I lost a dear friend to cancer last week. Dale Young and I were stand partners in orchestra. I admired his ability to lead. He had confidence to play out when I was scared to make a sound. I played better because he was at my side.

But that’s not the reason I’m going to miss him. I miss him because he was my friend. We had our own set of private jokes about pencils, parentheses and notes we wished we could play. His smile and friendliness blessed me. His sense of humor made rehearsing until 10:00 pm bearable.

I valued Dale for who he was, not for what he accomplished in life or how he played violin. I wonder if that’s the true message of death.

As a Christian, I am confident I will go to heaven when I die, not because of anything I’ve done, but because Christ paid the price for me on the cross. But I don’t look forward to death. There are too many things I want to do first. Many of these are things I want to do for God.

Death is God’s way of telling me He doesn’t value me for the things I can do for Him on earth. He values me for who I am. And someday He wants to enjoy me in heaven. Just my presence. Not my acts of service. As Jesus said in John 15:15, “No longer do I call you servants…but I have called you friends.”

Creation and "Cosmos"

My Sunday afternoon multitasking involved listening to an episode of Neil deGrasse Tyson’s series, “Cosmos: A Spacetime Odyssey” while I copied bowings into my orchestra music.

I expected to disagree with Tyson on his view of young-earth creationists. There is scientific evidence on both sides of the argument. Things aren’t as simple and obvious as many people claim.

But I was amazed how much I agreed with  a scene late in the episode. I would have shouted, “Amen!" if that were appropriate while watching "Cosmos." The scene is an animation of the astronomer William Herschel walking on the beach with his son, John, and discussing William’s friend, John Michell.

“He held that some stars are invisible,” said William. “They really exist, but we shall never see them. Dark stars, Michell called them.”

“With all due repsect, father, surely your friend was mistaken. If no one can see them, then how can we possible know they exist?”

“Did you see the man who left those footprints, John?”

“Why, no, father, I did not.”

“But do you know that he exists?”

Dark stars, now called black holes, leave footprints in the cosmos. Their gravitational pull is so great that light cannot escape. They are invisible. We detect them by watching the evidence of their gravitational pull on other things in the universe.

Sometimes the most powerful things in the universe are invisible. God is my Black Hole. I cannot see Him, but I have seen His footprints in the cosmos, in history and in my life. His pull is so great that once I got close to Him, my life was absorbed by Him. And I shall never regret it.