My Books

Friday, June 17, 2016

The Young Effect


Entertainments play on our senses differently. Each separate type comes to us wrapped lovingly by hands that have spent hours and hours trying to convey a thought, a sensation, a story. And each different type of entertainment brings us that in its own fashion.

Movies can take you places you have never been, and leave your imagination whirling with sights and sounds you would probably never have come up with on your own.

Words in a book, well, those paint images that your mind brings to life on its own. Every person pictures Frodo Baggins a little different in their minds when they read the Lord of the Rings. Words have a very lasting impression, partially because they paint the scenes…but we bring them to life. Our own imaginations craft the sceneries and the faces of the heroes and heroines. The skill of the author leads us where he wants us to go, and each of us takes away a bit of our own impression; our imaginations create worlds when we read.

But what of music?

Music makes you feel.

There is a place inside you where pictures and words only sometimes reach; but music has the key, and can slip in whenever you allow it in your life. Music has a direct path to our emotions, and to the thing called ‘beauty’ inside each of us. People might define it differently, or have no definition at all, but we all recognize beauty when we see it or feel it. And music bids us feel that beauty, and sparks sensations of joy, sorrow, excitement, exultation…

I have always known that. It is a rare moment that I don’t have some song playing, around the house, in the car, wherever I happen to be. But this week I was introduced to a new set of music and reminded more forcibly of the power of song. A man named Adam Young has begun a project; he is creating soundtracks to events that mean something to him, because it is something he has always wanted to do. Go to his website here: Adam Young Scores. Choose an album, hit play, listen for a moment, and then come back and keep reading as it dances in the background. Whether you care for the style or not, I think you will be moved. As I listened to these songs this week, I was reminded of what music does to us. It inspires emotions and tells a story in a way that movies and books can only sometimes accomplish. We feel what the creator of this piece of art felt when writing it. Adam Young’s scores are certainly not the only pieces of music to do this, but they stand out as a beautifully clear example that makes my point.


Apollo 11 is charged with excitement, hope, and triumph, as well as times of sweet longing and solitary peace.


The RMS Titanic, you hear the ebullient elegance of the beginning of the voyage, and then? Play the second half of the album, and I dare you keep a smile on your face. No, you find yourself so saddened. Even when I merely hear the music without paying attention to what event it speaks of, the sorrow creeps into my chest as the music plays.


The Spirit of St. Louis, you can sense the charged excitement of the takeoff, and then the miles and miles that drift under Lindbergh’s plane, with only slight variations across the Atlantic. You feel the beauty and monotony at the same time.

This blog post is really just a note to say thank you to God, I suppose. Music is such a constant part of my life I had forgotten how much I take it for granted. Finding a new set reminded me of one reason why music is truly a gift from our Creator. No other art form (at least that I have found) has such a swift and complete entrance to our emotions, or such control over them. It takes us places so quickly, and yet we find we go so willingly, following the beauty as it leads us through a proverbial nosegay of wonder-filled emotions.
                                
Don’t be afraid of the effect music has on you. Pick an old favorite, or try a new album today, and really listen. Let it invade you. And as you find your heart touched and blossoming under the skill of the artist, remember to offer thanks to the Great Artist Who put music in this world for us to discover and create and use.

To God be the glory, great things He has done![1]




[1] From “To God Be The Glory,” words by Fanny Crosby

Thursday, April 21, 2016

Sleeping Dragons

"When the dragon awoke, trouble flared again.
He rippled down the rock, writhing with anger 
when he saw the footprints of the prowler who had stolen
too close to his dreaming head. 
So may a man not marked by fate
easily escape exile and woe
by the grace of God." 

-from Seamus Heaney's translation of Beowulf


The shrieking brakes of the car behind you bring your heart into your throat, as you grip your wheel and wait for the impact on your bumper. But it doesn’t come. The driver behind you looked up, saw your car stopped at the light, and managed to slam on his brakes in time. Your breath comes out in a tight sigh and your prayers of thanks fly to heaven as the light turns green and you drive on. Ten minutes later you’ve almost forgotten the incident, and forgotten that moment of fervent thanks breathed out to a sovereign God. When we see or feel a danger averted our thanks are genuine and profuse. But what of the rest of our lives, as we breathe and move in a world filled with dangers?



How many times have we tread past the “sleeping dragon” and only the grace of God has kept us?

I was breezing through portions of Beowulf this afternoon and those lines stopped me. The runaway slave that slipped into the dragon’s lair (little guessing, it seems, that a live dragon lurked still within) and carried the cup back to gain his master’s favor… that man hardly guessed how close he had come a fiery demise. But as the ancient author points out, how often do we walk glibly by dangers of our own?

Living every day as we do, it’s so easy to forget that it is a miracle we wake up at all. I’m not trying to scare anyone here, or make you paranoid about getting out of bed, but am only pointing out the reminder I got from an Old English poem today.

Don’t forget to thank God for protecting you, even through the dangers you never knew lurked nearby. And be glad your danger isn’t a sleeping dragon.

(An Andrew Mayer illustration of Beowulf facing down the dragon.)