Il Milagro del Divenire (The Miracle of Becoming)

 

The Parable of the Pianist

When I was a kid, I made the mistake of saying, “Mom, I think I want to try the piano…” and before I could change my mind, she had enrolled me in lessons. There was no going back from there. I took lessons for many years, stumbling along the way, but as each year passed I got a little better, until as a teenager I was playing a lot of the familiar classical pieces. 

My favorite memory of those years of musicianship was that of going into the chapel at night when no one else was in our church building. I would leave the lights off, and sitting alone in the quiet stillness, I would play the first movement of “Moonlight Sonata” by Beethoven. It was my favorite piece. The acoustics of the chapel were perfect, and I could close my eyes and play, and it took me to another place.  As I would finish the final notes of the movement and the resonance of the keys faded, I would open my eyes, and there was nothing but...silence. It was a beautiful experience, almost spiritual, as I sat there alone in the dark.

I think the reason I loved it so much was because, in that moment, it wasn’t about me. There was no audience to “perform for”.  It was just a connection between myself and the instrument...the sheer bliss of playing something beautiful...perfectly. I wasn’t thinking, “what a great musician I've become because I can play this piece”, but rather, “what a genius Ludwig Von Beethoven was for creating such a masterpiece”. It was as if I found joy in playing simply to honor him.

But it wasn’t always like that. It wasn’t always magical. Because as any musician or artist knows, there is one thing that stands between that sweet, beautiful experience of melodic bliss, and that of just banging random keys on the piano and making noise.  And that one thing my friends...is practice. Practice, practice, practice (can you hear your mother’s voice?). Like every kid who has ever played an instrument or a sport, I didn’t like to practice. 

And as I got older, the songs got more difficult, and the more practice they required. I remember one day I was particularly frustrated, trying to learn a difficult piece, not being able to hang out with my friends until I had practiced...and I kept getting stuck in the same spot over.and.over.again. Each time I tried again, I would make the same exact mistake, until I was so frustrated my fingers were sarcastically banging out the notes to over-emphasize them. Finally my frustration erupted in a fit of anger, and banging the keys on the piano, I screamed “I HATE this! It’s too hard! I want to quit!”  

I’ll never forget that day…after my outburst…sitting alone with my self pity. The French doors of our family room creaked as they opened, and my mother came in and put her hands on my shoulders and quietly said, “Son, don’t quit. You have come so far...you would always regret it if you quit now. Just take a moment, breathe, and try it again.”  And then she walked out.

I took her advice...I didn’t quit. And that decision made all the difference. I’ve enjoyed a life filled with music because of that decision. It has been one of my greatest joys, and though it wasn’t always easy, it has always been worth it.

In a way, each of us in our lives is a musician, practicing the Song of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. As children we start to learn it, maybe with just one hand, and it seems like such an easy song. And it is...we’re merely playing a simplified version of it, and we have what seems to be an infinite amount of patience.

But as we get older, the piece seems to get more difficult. There are more notes, more dynamics; key changes, crescendos and legatos, staccatos, formatas and...I’m losing the non-musicians, I can tell. (But the musicians are nodding their heads…"I feel you!") But the piece, though more complex, is also much more rich and beautiful than the simplified version we played as children.  But there are those pesky spots that trip us up every time.  Try as we might, we make the same mistake in exactly the same spot over and over again.  I don’t know about you, but there have been times in my life where I have banged on those keys and cried out in frustration, “I want to quit! This song is too hard! I should have it down by now!” 

And in those difficult times, when I am open to hearing it, I have felt the comforting hands of my Savior on my shoulders, and His quiet voice saying, “Son, don’t quit now...you have come so far. You would always regret it if you quit now. Just take a moment, breathe, (repent)...and try it again. Just...keep...practicing.”

And so we practice. Practice, practice, practice.  What a beautiful thought...we are “practicing” the Gospel, striving to play it perfectly.  And we’re all practicing the same song!  Some of us may get certain parts of the song perfectly with no mistakes...but other parts trip us up.  Other musicians may get our trouble spots easily and can help us improve our own challenging measures of the song. That is why we go to church each Sunday; just a bunch of musicians, helping each other...to practice.

It is not for me to judge another musician who struggles with a part of the song. After all (To paraphrase the hymn), “Who am I to judge another, when I play imperfectly”.

The good news is, our practice of this Song of the Gospel is not a competition. Helping another musician improve his own playing does not make me a lesser musician. Instead, it increases my joy in the process! We don't practice so that others will look at us and say, "Wow, listen to how perfectly Sister So and So plays! I wish I could be like her." No, we practice to become a better musician, so that others are drawn to the Composer by hearing us play.

And every once in a while...we get it just right; we play it perfectly that one time.

And it is magical.

There is so much miraculous joy in becoming. Imagine our happiness and fulfillment when one day we look back on our lives, and see the musicians that we have become, and the honor that we brought to our Master Composer by playing His Song.

So, in the words of Elder Jeffrey R. Holland…"Don’t you quit. You keep walking...you keep trying…” and may I add…  

"You keep practicing”.