I established my blog last year, expecting posting an entry every month. The true result is I entered a single post for the entire year. Let’s see what develops this year.
BACKGROUND: Six weeks before Christmas “Mrs. Santa” warned me to within an inch of my Christmas life not to purchase any DVD concerts until after Christmas. I was doing so well resisting temptation when on a shopping trip I was in a retail outlet surrounded by Christmas movies and Christmas concerts. A curiosity awakened and a wonder quickly grew, “Got that one, and that one; yes and that one too.” I ticked them off one after another feeling quite relieved that I was beyond temptation.
However, every garden has an apple – a forbidden fruit. There it was in its enticing, ever beckoning wrapper. It could not have been a resistible single disk; it had to be an irresistible double disk – two Christmas concerts. Double the temptation! My soul began speaking to my head how much I really needed it if I intended to have a really Merry Christmas. And then another voice spoke: “Yea, did Mrs. Santa really say you shall not buy this specific DVD?”
It was evening of that same day and the answer to the question came clearly and unmistakably concerning what Mrs. Santa really said—and meant. “What part of DO NOT purchase any DVDs do you not understand?” I couldn’t say what my first father said: “That woman you gave me…..”This was that woman He gave me and I crossed Santa’s line from “good” to“naughty.” Being chastised, dutifully obedient and properly penitent, I returned the DVD, hoping that forgiveness would prevail and eventually I would get to see that double DVD concert of the music I love played by the composer and director I so admire.
Christmas morning evolved with painful slowness. This gift, that gift, and still another. Even DVD movies and concerts– the ‘stuff’ was piling up. It appeared that, contrary to my faith and hope, Mrs. Santa was having nothing to do with
insight into the human frailty of temptation and forgiveness. My gloomy prediction was: I would be fortunate to be off the naughty list by Christmas 2020. Then came the words: “Oh yes, I almost forgot – here is one final gift for you.”
MORE BACKGROUND: I have determined that the possibility exists there just might be something in the human
experience worse than exercise: i.e. this Christmas belly-bloat, half dead muscles, and joint and sinew working like rusty, barn-door hinges. I forced my way to my vehicle and directed it toward the most lonely room in the church building: in the lower regions of the entire building, a fitness/workout room. To moderate the pain and melt away some of the boredom of exercise, I positioned my portable DVD player on the control panel of the treadmill. I was
perfectly situated to walk through my DVD Christmas Concert: Home for the Holidays – Andre Rieu.
My “feet shod with running shoes” were slapping out a rhythm appropriate to the droning, consistent speed of the revolving track. Physically I did not leave that track for fifty minutes;however my soul seemed to have broken free of the dimensions of the fitness room. It seemed to have outrun my quickly moving feet and out of the confines of the room. It left the treadmill far behind.
The Rieu concert setting was Winter in the outdoor courtyard of his fifteenth century castle in his hometown of Maastricht, The Netherlands. The magical images and sounds swept my soul away and comfortably positioned it in that romantic scene.
THE POINT OF THE BLOG: For an hour and a half, one beautiful Christmas song followed another. Ninety nine percent of the music was familiar, traditional Carols. But “familiar and traditional” become magically new and wonderful when passing through the gift of music-genius that is this man. For sixty three Christmases I have heard these songs of the season. Suddenly I became conscious of the feeling it was as if I was hearing them for the first time. Even if I had the ability to express the wonder, the mystery, the magic, the glory, the absolute genius and emotion of the music as it washed over my consciousness it would require far more time than I have left to write it all down – even if I had three lifetimes.
By now my sweater was soaked not only with perspiration but a mixture of perspiration and streams of tears making their way through a gnarled skin and a gray beard grown to conceal the deepening, lengthening and care-worn wrinkles produced over those sixty-three years. I strenuously attempted to adjust the focus of my consciousness in an effort to understand this deep emotional response. One voice crying in the wilderness screamed one word: “EXCELLENCE”.
Thinking through the meaning and use of that word gave the insight that it was not only the excellence of the presentation and the excellence of the musicians that stirred the soul. It was the attention given to detail; from the winter courtyard of the estate to the Cathedral Rieu attended as a child (the two settings of the concert), there was not a single detail that reflected even a shadow of anything less than excellence. Every light, every candle, every table and chair, every tree, and every window appointment shouted“excellence!” Each musical instrument, long flowing gown and tuxedo, every hair cut and style – all were displayed in a state of excellence! All elements of facial expression, basics of body language, the discipline and mastery of the instruments: the higher and lower string players, the percussion section, the brass section, the wind players, the keyboards, and the angelic harp were robed in excellence! Finally there was the music and the awe and magic of the voices (solos, trios, choirs both children and adults, tenors and baritones presented in performance excellence.
The track of the treadmill continued to engage my feet in this hamster-like activity on a journey to nowhere. My tear ducts continued to pump out fluid. My soul continued to absorb the “excellence of excellence.” This deep consciousness finally produced what, I suppose, was the inevitable question: How is such excellence to be explained or understood?
This brought my musings to the “’D’word” – discipline. This seemed to be a no brainer. Obviously my senses were taking in the delicious musical delights of multiplied years of rigid and uncompromised discipline. The beauty of the arts is created by the fruits of discipline. That is what I love about Andre Rieu and his Johann Straus Orchestra; that stirs my soul so deeply and sweeps it along to dizzying heights. I am also fascinated with figure skating. My emotional response is my celebration of the discipline expressed in the excellence of the art regardless of the form.
But on this post-Christmas day and working hard to keep up with the treadmill’s disciplined movement the internal probe was penetrating deeper still. If discipline explains the excellence of the performance then what explains the discipline? Honestly, this unintended thought almost brought me to a halt despite the consistent spinning of the track, a situation, of course, that can produce severe bruises on one’s chin.
What was it in these musicians that held them to the discipline essential to such excellence? Was this learned behaviour, a mere matter of academics; was it a product of the environment from which they came or worked, or a result of fear and threat? Regardless of the source or motivation, the fact remains that excellence is produced through discipline.
Perhaps in the beginning of our pursuits all of these elements and many more may be part of our experience of discipline, but know this for sure there must come a point in the journey of the discipline when the motivating factor is one thing – love of the art. That difference is always evident. We have all experienced performances that were rigid, cold, sterile, mechanical, robotic, monotonous and lifeless; performances that were mausoleum-like. One could never deny the discipline – perhaps discipline unequalled; however the admired discipline fails to engage and captivate the soul. There is no“WOW” factor and without this the performance is lost.
On my treadmill, with my senses drinking in the glory of this Christmas concert, I made at least three discoveries: the
wonder of excellence, the beauty of discipline, and the role of the love of the art.
Discovery however, was not yet complete on that day of reflection. The totality of discovering the underlying reason and the support of all I was witnessing was passion. Whatever else I was not just witnessing but experiencing in that incredible musical presentation was the passion of performance. Without the passion the discipline would not have been evident. Consequently, without passion the excellence would have been compromised. But how is such passion to be explained or understood? Perhaps it’s not to be understood or explained; however the foregoing revelation came as my feet kept the relentless cadence of the unchanging beat of the track.
Passion cannot finally be separated or divorced from the gift itself. I was not just watching 35 or 40 musicians; I was experiencing 35 or 40 different core defining “gifts of music” unique in each individual performer. I understood that passion is not outside those gifts or brought to those gifts. Disciplined passion - or perhaps passioned discipline -is that undeniable energy produced and included in the gift itself. The passion of the gift is what fuelled the discipline
essential to the excellence of the performance I experienced.
That day on my treadmill I discovered absolute excellence of performance produced by the uncompromising discipline essential to such excellence. I discovered the deep passion that fuels such discipline. And I discovered the gift that produces such passion. The entire recipe was all in view, which brought the thought of how wonderful, profound, refreshing and admirable were the qualities that recipe produced. The sights and sounds kept washing over me.
Then............another revealing thought....
I thought of the church and I understood the lack of excellence within the body of Christ. And then I understood why any old thing will do, why most services don’t begin on time, why volunteers are few and far between, and the general sloppiness of structure, communication and presentation. And then I understood why most church facilities are cleaned to a substandard than most public buildings. I understood the lack of study and commitment to thoughtful preparation reflected in the pulpit ministry, and why so many things that are unacceptable and intolerable in any other arena of our lives are absolutely acceptable within the church community. I understood the reasoning behind second-hand and castoff items always finding their way to the church. They are no longer excellent enough to be in the home but they are “riches beyond description” for the church. Excellence be damned!!
My trip on the treadmill finished with a look into my own soul. I discovered in part the truth I was witnessing in the musical performance. I pondered again the core defining gift of my life and being: I AM a teacher. I felt the passion inherent in the gift. It was clear to me that the greatest and easiest discipline in my life relates to the exercise of teaching. I also realised that the closest I approach excellence in anything at all is in the preparation and presentation of what I teach: The revelation of Jesus Christ to a lost and hurting world contained in the Sacred Scriptures.
Gift, passion, discipline, excellence, and relevance; all of the ingredients of significance in life were in place in my head. Reality returns, the treadmill comes to a halt, the cadence of steps cease, the concert is over and this is my blog. The intent is to stir you, dear reader, (as I have been stired) to know your gifts, to embrace the passion of those gifts, and to accept nothing less than the excellence and significance - the fruit of passioned discipline; the discipline of “Kingdom Thinking.”
BACKGROUND: Six weeks before Christmas “Mrs. Santa” warned me to within an inch of my Christmas life not to purchase any DVD concerts until after Christmas. I was doing so well resisting temptation when on a shopping trip I was in a retail outlet surrounded by Christmas movies and Christmas concerts. A curiosity awakened and a wonder quickly grew, “Got that one, and that one; yes and that one too.” I ticked them off one after another feeling quite relieved that I was beyond temptation.
However, every garden has an apple – a forbidden fruit. There it was in its enticing, ever beckoning wrapper. It could not have been a resistible single disk; it had to be an irresistible double disk – two Christmas concerts. Double the temptation! My soul began speaking to my head how much I really needed it if I intended to have a really Merry Christmas. And then another voice spoke: “Yea, did Mrs. Santa really say you shall not buy this specific DVD?”
It was evening of that same day and the answer to the question came clearly and unmistakably concerning what Mrs. Santa really said—and meant. “What part of DO NOT purchase any DVDs do you not understand?” I couldn’t say what my first father said: “That woman you gave me…..”This was that woman He gave me and I crossed Santa’s line from “good” to“naughty.” Being chastised, dutifully obedient and properly penitent, I returned the DVD, hoping that forgiveness would prevail and eventually I would get to see that double DVD concert of the music I love played by the composer and director I so admire.
Christmas morning evolved with painful slowness. This gift, that gift, and still another. Even DVD movies and concerts– the ‘stuff’ was piling up. It appeared that, contrary to my faith and hope, Mrs. Santa was having nothing to do with
insight into the human frailty of temptation and forgiveness. My gloomy prediction was: I would be fortunate to be off the naughty list by Christmas 2020. Then came the words: “Oh yes, I almost forgot – here is one final gift for you.”
MORE BACKGROUND: I have determined that the possibility exists there just might be something in the human
experience worse than exercise: i.e. this Christmas belly-bloat, half dead muscles, and joint and sinew working like rusty, barn-door hinges. I forced my way to my vehicle and directed it toward the most lonely room in the church building: in the lower regions of the entire building, a fitness/workout room. To moderate the pain and melt away some of the boredom of exercise, I positioned my portable DVD player on the control panel of the treadmill. I was
perfectly situated to walk through my DVD Christmas Concert: Home for the Holidays – Andre Rieu.
My “feet shod with running shoes” were slapping out a rhythm appropriate to the droning, consistent speed of the revolving track. Physically I did not leave that track for fifty minutes;however my soul seemed to have broken free of the dimensions of the fitness room. It seemed to have outrun my quickly moving feet and out of the confines of the room. It left the treadmill far behind.
The Rieu concert setting was Winter in the outdoor courtyard of his fifteenth century castle in his hometown of Maastricht, The Netherlands. The magical images and sounds swept my soul away and comfortably positioned it in that romantic scene.
THE POINT OF THE BLOG: For an hour and a half, one beautiful Christmas song followed another. Ninety nine percent of the music was familiar, traditional Carols. But “familiar and traditional” become magically new and wonderful when passing through the gift of music-genius that is this man. For sixty three Christmases I have heard these songs of the season. Suddenly I became conscious of the feeling it was as if I was hearing them for the first time. Even if I had the ability to express the wonder, the mystery, the magic, the glory, the absolute genius and emotion of the music as it washed over my consciousness it would require far more time than I have left to write it all down – even if I had three lifetimes.
By now my sweater was soaked not only with perspiration but a mixture of perspiration and streams of tears making their way through a gnarled skin and a gray beard grown to conceal the deepening, lengthening and care-worn wrinkles produced over those sixty-three years. I strenuously attempted to adjust the focus of my consciousness in an effort to understand this deep emotional response. One voice crying in the wilderness screamed one word: “EXCELLENCE”.
Thinking through the meaning and use of that word gave the insight that it was not only the excellence of the presentation and the excellence of the musicians that stirred the soul. It was the attention given to detail; from the winter courtyard of the estate to the Cathedral Rieu attended as a child (the two settings of the concert), there was not a single detail that reflected even a shadow of anything less than excellence. Every light, every candle, every table and chair, every tree, and every window appointment shouted“excellence!” Each musical instrument, long flowing gown and tuxedo, every hair cut and style – all were displayed in a state of excellence! All elements of facial expression, basics of body language, the discipline and mastery of the instruments: the higher and lower string players, the percussion section, the brass section, the wind players, the keyboards, and the angelic harp were robed in excellence! Finally there was the music and the awe and magic of the voices (solos, trios, choirs both children and adults, tenors and baritones presented in performance excellence.
The track of the treadmill continued to engage my feet in this hamster-like activity on a journey to nowhere. My tear ducts continued to pump out fluid. My soul continued to absorb the “excellence of excellence.” This deep consciousness finally produced what, I suppose, was the inevitable question: How is such excellence to be explained or understood?
This brought my musings to the “’D’word” – discipline. This seemed to be a no brainer. Obviously my senses were taking in the delicious musical delights of multiplied years of rigid and uncompromised discipline. The beauty of the arts is created by the fruits of discipline. That is what I love about Andre Rieu and his Johann Straus Orchestra; that stirs my soul so deeply and sweeps it along to dizzying heights. I am also fascinated with figure skating. My emotional response is my celebration of the discipline expressed in the excellence of the art regardless of the form.
But on this post-Christmas day and working hard to keep up with the treadmill’s disciplined movement the internal probe was penetrating deeper still. If discipline explains the excellence of the performance then what explains the discipline? Honestly, this unintended thought almost brought me to a halt despite the consistent spinning of the track, a situation, of course, that can produce severe bruises on one’s chin.
What was it in these musicians that held them to the discipline essential to such excellence? Was this learned behaviour, a mere matter of academics; was it a product of the environment from which they came or worked, or a result of fear and threat? Regardless of the source or motivation, the fact remains that excellence is produced through discipline.
Perhaps in the beginning of our pursuits all of these elements and many more may be part of our experience of discipline, but know this for sure there must come a point in the journey of the discipline when the motivating factor is one thing – love of the art. That difference is always evident. We have all experienced performances that were rigid, cold, sterile, mechanical, robotic, monotonous and lifeless; performances that were mausoleum-like. One could never deny the discipline – perhaps discipline unequalled; however the admired discipline fails to engage and captivate the soul. There is no“WOW” factor and without this the performance is lost.
On my treadmill, with my senses drinking in the glory of this Christmas concert, I made at least three discoveries: the
wonder of excellence, the beauty of discipline, and the role of the love of the art.
Discovery however, was not yet complete on that day of reflection. The totality of discovering the underlying reason and the support of all I was witnessing was passion. Whatever else I was not just witnessing but experiencing in that incredible musical presentation was the passion of performance. Without the passion the discipline would not have been evident. Consequently, without passion the excellence would have been compromised. But how is such passion to be explained or understood? Perhaps it’s not to be understood or explained; however the foregoing revelation came as my feet kept the relentless cadence of the unchanging beat of the track.
Passion cannot finally be separated or divorced from the gift itself. I was not just watching 35 or 40 musicians; I was experiencing 35 or 40 different core defining “gifts of music” unique in each individual performer. I understood that passion is not outside those gifts or brought to those gifts. Disciplined passion - or perhaps passioned discipline -is that undeniable energy produced and included in the gift itself. The passion of the gift is what fuelled the discipline
essential to the excellence of the performance I experienced.
That day on my treadmill I discovered absolute excellence of performance produced by the uncompromising discipline essential to such excellence. I discovered the deep passion that fuels such discipline. And I discovered the gift that produces such passion. The entire recipe was all in view, which brought the thought of how wonderful, profound, refreshing and admirable were the qualities that recipe produced. The sights and sounds kept washing over me.
Then............another revealing thought....
I thought of the church and I understood the lack of excellence within the body of Christ. And then I understood why any old thing will do, why most services don’t begin on time, why volunteers are few and far between, and the general sloppiness of structure, communication and presentation. And then I understood why most church facilities are cleaned to a substandard than most public buildings. I understood the lack of study and commitment to thoughtful preparation reflected in the pulpit ministry, and why so many things that are unacceptable and intolerable in any other arena of our lives are absolutely acceptable within the church community. I understood the reasoning behind second-hand and castoff items always finding their way to the church. They are no longer excellent enough to be in the home but they are “riches beyond description” for the church. Excellence be damned!!
My trip on the treadmill finished with a look into my own soul. I discovered in part the truth I was witnessing in the musical performance. I pondered again the core defining gift of my life and being: I AM a teacher. I felt the passion inherent in the gift. It was clear to me that the greatest and easiest discipline in my life relates to the exercise of teaching. I also realised that the closest I approach excellence in anything at all is in the preparation and presentation of what I teach: The revelation of Jesus Christ to a lost and hurting world contained in the Sacred Scriptures.
Gift, passion, discipline, excellence, and relevance; all of the ingredients of significance in life were in place in my head. Reality returns, the treadmill comes to a halt, the cadence of steps cease, the concert is over and this is my blog. The intent is to stir you, dear reader, (as I have been stired) to know your gifts, to embrace the passion of those gifts, and to accept nothing less than the excellence and significance - the fruit of passioned discipline; the discipline of “Kingdom Thinking.”
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