An Evening at Helzberg

I went to the Kansas City Symphony last week, and walked away thinking "I should do this more often!" The program was all Saint-Saens, cradled in the belly of Helzberg Hall whose wooden insides reverberate like a musical instrument. Noah Geller did an outstanding job performing on the violin; at times his solo was as sharp as a knife cutting through a sea of symphony, and at other times it was alluringly allusive. And that was the beauty of it. At times Geller would strike a high harmonic that was enshrouded within the auspices of the orchestra, and then the orchestra would suddenly fall away, leaving that note resonating, clean and clear; simply earth shattering. The Saint-Saens Organ Concerto was also remarkable in its own way. At times I was struck with a returning motif that left me frantically sorting through snippets enfolded within my music memory. Where had I heard that before? I started grinning like a simpleton as soon as I realized it was part of the soundtrack to Babe. Who says that movies about talking pigs are not educational?

Hallmark Landmarks

    

     When visiting landmark locations one is willing to undergo levels of discomfort in an effort to see whatever makes that place famous. When exploring Paris with a friend, I remember walking for miles to make sure the Louvre, Eiffel and Arc de Triumph were adequately checked off my list. By the end of the day it felt like I was walking on glass due to cheap shoes, and unbeknownst to me at the time, a broken bone in my foot. When traveling in China, I went to see The Great Wall in the middle of Winter. Getting there in an unheated vehicle was toe-numbing cold. But was it worth it? Absolutely. Traveling within Turkey was the same way. Three buddies and I rode for 13 hours in a bus through the night to get to Ephesus. We explored the ruined city for a day, and then rode all through the next night to get back to Istanbul where we were staying with a friend. Exhausting; not the most cush trip of my life, but definitely worth it.
     I finished reading through the Bible today. With blushing cheeks I will admit it took me way longer than the ambitious three month reading plan I ventured out upon, but something weighing on my mind is an exchange between John and an angel in the book of Revelation. The angel says to John "Come, I will show you the bride, the wife of the lamb!" (Rev. 21:9, NET). You can almost hear the excitement in his voice. And then they did that. It's recorded that they scoped out the new Jerusalem together and it was awesome. Brilliant like a precious jewel; a city with walls of jasper and gold, and with a foundation of sapphire. Sounds like something that leaves the highlights of France, China and Turkey in the dust. And then it goes on to describe the saints within the city. Those with the name of the lamb written on their foreheads. So there is the real bride! As powerful of a sight to behold the new Jerusalem in all its shiny-amazingness, the real landmark sight was the bride itself; Christ and his bride. I find this wonderful. Earlier today I was dwelling on the disheveled state of church, and my own imperfect state, but it won't always be this way. Someday, the bride of the lamb is going to be a fearsome thing to behold; so much so that the tour guides will be advertising her as one of the main attractions. It's not just about what is going to be in heaven, but whom. Transformed; redeemed and perfect.