Some years ago we had the privilege of visiting one of the great museums of the world. As I wandered among the exhibits now and then I found my emotions doing unusual dips and rises. There was a particular section of the endless exhibits which brought on a deep feeling of melancholy which felt like it was taking me into a chasm of despair. It was strange to be walking among some of the great works of the centuries and being overcome with a feeling that I was also witnessing a testimony to man’s sometime futile, sometimes semi-successful attempts to preside over this world with meaningful and proper dominion.
I remember one particularly extensive exhibit which contained row after row of musical instruments. Some of them had brass engraved signs which identified them as masterpieces brought into existence by the hands of rare and talented masters. The instruments silently rested in their glass protective cases as though they were monuments to the artisans who had created them.
As I meandered among the rows of these polished and shining instruments I saw several other brass engraved signs reminding all visitors to maintain in a state of reverence and to keep all conversations to a minimum and at subdued levels. I was suddenly struck with the thundering silence which surrounded me. I felt like I was being engulfed in rumbling soundlessness. Then I was struck with the greatness of the irony. There I was in the midst of an almost total display of the historical efforts of collective mankind to produce instruments of melodious sounds and all that was to be felt was that emptiness which can accompany silence. So many violins, trumpets, guitars and pianos and a corresponding total absence of music!
Many times since that day the sight of a violin lying protected in its case or a piano with its key cover shut in protection of the ivories and blacks have had a tendency to trip a remembrance of those days of wandering among the protected instrumental masterpieces. At times, I have then been taken into a symbolic journey in my mind. I see clearly that while it may be true that an unstrung, untuned, unplayed violin may well be considered a work of art and should be preserved and protected, in the end it will never fulfill its purpose of existence while sequestered in its glass shrine. The creator’s genius can never be fully appreciated until another gifted master applies bow to string and enchanting melodies erupt. A piano is merely a piece of furniture unless the keys are exposed, skillfully pressed and hammers contact strings in cleverly arranged compositions. Then understanding comes of the truly wonderful instrument that well trained hands framed, shaped, assembled, strung and tuned.
As we wander through life we often find ourselves as instruments lying silently with untapped gifts and talents waiting for us to unwrap them and share them with family, friends and strangers. Sadly, personal gifts lying unused and encased within can also cause dips into despair. We look in the mirror and see an image reflected or through a window and see a brother who has allowed through decisions his potential to rust and blow away. A feeling of remorse comes as we see a sister whose talents remain a gift received, but in stillness lies unwrapped. It would be wonderful if sadness would sharpen desires and stimulate efforts to do the work necessary to unenshrine our latent gifts and in our small way enliven the environment in which we are blessed to exist. The lessons of time have demonstrated that it is a rare bird who is able to appreciate the brilliance of its plumage while sitting on a stump in the darkness of the forest. Many times we need the touch of the Master’s hand to bring out the wonderful treasures which lie buried in our souls. Many times talents are left short of their potential because of the lack of applause from the audiences who have been recipients of the recently revealed rhapsodies. It takes but little pondering to understand that there are few of us who will fully develop our inherited gifts while sitting in a dusty corner unaided by heavenly influences or fellow strugglers. Well-crafted instruments will never reach the fulfillment of the purpose of their creation without caring hands which polish and tune, or skilled hands which strum and finger.
Each of us has been well framed by an Eternal Exalted Artisan. Therefore, our inherited potential is unlimited or at least far less limited than our earth-experience developed inhibitions seem to shout to our souls. Like all other things created, we need to dip deep within until we discover that ‘one gift’ which has been promised to all, then endure until the gift has been opened, polished, strung and tuned.
As ‘our note’ is added harmoniously to the symphony of our sphere, there will be joy in the halls where our Heavenly Father resides, happiness in the homes where we are privileged to meet and greet and perhaps pure-pleasure will become more prominent among the people.
We should all pray that heaven sent reminders will come and help us understand that we are children of Deity who have been given a gift and we have a responsibility to never allow our gift to be encased in silence, never having added our trump to the heralding of the heavens.
