It's in the Belfry
Ministerial meandering
In the belfry
You know what it’s like - you have this tune going round and round and round in your head, and it won’t let you be. Even at night. Last night I had a song going on endlessly in my head until about 0130, when I got up to go to the bathroom; on returning to bed, it had finally gone. Truly bats in the belfry.
This seems to be a symptom of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, which I can’t possibly have because I’m the most easy-going of characters - so long as everything is going exactly as planned. But I’m not going to dwell on this.
Music, I will admit, is an obsession - and is likely to remain so for the rest of my life. But there is something slightly odd here; many people who absolutely love music, have some playing in their house almost non-stop throughout the day. Our house, by contrast, is a haven of quiet - except when Gracie needs to bring my attention to something outside.
I have been wondering why this should be so. I can only come up with the suggestion that extraneous music detracts from the music that is going on in my head almost constantly; and if it’s not in my head, then I am making space for it to be so. Chords and cadences arrive unbidden into my mind; I only lack the skill to write them down instantly, or play them on the piano - immediately, whilst recording them. I clearly need a composition tutor.
There is a more concrete example of this too. People are very good at recommending books, and my Economist magazine is no exception to that. Many of them are well reviewed and would be good reads, but I have reached a point in my life where I know I just don’t have time to read all that I would like to. That means that I have to be selective. And I’m not very good at that because I like to choose books that I think may improve me, intellectually, as I know I have far to go in that field when I read some of the great authors and philosophers and psychologists. Then Sheila tells me to read something light, and not fill my head with heavy stuff all the time - and she’s right, of course.
However, it’s really about balance. Try standing on one leg for a minute, and see how tiring it gets after a while - without holding on to anything, that is!
We need both sides of the equation, and I suspect that many of us are not too good at achieving that balance. And it goes through every aspect of our lives; whether it be work and play, rock and classical music, silence and noise, roughness and tenderness, polite restraint and blunt expression.
Each colours our day in a different hue, and the same is true of our relationship with God, as we understand Him.
A day spent entirely in prayer will exhaust you as much as a day spent in pleasure. You might think that one is clearly worse than the other - but I suggest that is just the hangover of your Victorian conscience talking. We need to try and balance ourselves; too much Paul, and not enough James and John (or Peter), and we become dull people.
The other point I need to make is that if we listen to music all day, every day, when will we ever hear the ‘still, small voice of calm?’ I think you’ll find that Jesus frequently went off by himself to pray. Not a bad idea.
Philip+