Sometimes I wonder if God is a musician. No, that is not sacrilegious; it’s just one of those things that I find myself contemplating when the reality that the universe moves to a rhythm all its own, and the hand that guides the timing of everything is flawless in its execution becomes undeniably apparent.
Everything is about timing. Everything is about rhythm. From that clump of muscles beating in your chest like a metronome to the changing of the seasons to the migration of cranes, hummingbirds, geese, and all manner of fauna, we are witness to the greatest symphony the world has ever known, composed and conducted flawlessly by God’s unseen hand.
Although God has been conducting this particular symphony since before time began, in recent decades, everyone from the tuba player, to the violin player, to the goofy guy with the cymbals that sits there for most of the show only to clang them together once or twice, have gotten it into their heads that not only would they do a better job conducting, they would also create a superior composition.
They started out changing a note here or there, then tried to mess with the rhythm now and then. Since the audience never cringed, or hissed, or walked out in protest, and because their ears are so dulled that they can’t discern nuance anymore, they kept on keeping on, tinkering and fiddling with what was flawless, to begin with. It’s nothing less than hubris to believe man can improve upon perfection, but that isn’t stopping this generation because they think they know better, and the adults in the room never sat them down and gave them a talking to to the contrary.
When I was younger, before the kids came along, I used to travel a lot and visited more than my share of churches. Although most things about the congregations were so similar that they didn’t register, what I remember vividly, even after all these years, were the people that either sang out of tune or clapped out of rhythm. While their artistic expression came from a good place and is therefore forgivable, those who are actively trying to reinterpret everything from scripture to gender, to what passes for normal today, aren’t well-intentioned or harmless.
There is a concerted effort afoot to not only rewrite the symphony and replace the conductor but force everyone else to sing along with what amounts to toddlers randomly beating on pots with wooden spoons. Not only that, but we are also supposed to pretend it’s better than the original composition.
The inflection point is soon approaching, and we will realize what we have done to ourselves, with our own two hands, and the natural reaction to skirt responsibility for the damage we’ve done will be to lay the blame at the feet of another. Even though we’ve thrown out the sheet music, created our own symphony, and have allowed feelings to be our conductor, when it all goes to naught, and the only constant is mindless noise, we will attempt to blame God for the choices we made that led us here.
Before you join the ranks of the many whose love will grow cold, remember it’s not God’s fault that humanity decided to write its own symphony rather than abide by the one He composed. Conversely, neither is it God’s fault that He is not keeping promises He never made, but that others insisted He did.
With love in Christ,
Michael Boldea Jr.