Simplicity, Imperfection, and God's Love

I've always taken pleasure in the simple things in life. Games, books, movies, those are all good, but it's the simplest things that give the greatest pleasure to me, maybe because it's so unexpected. When we play a game, read a book, or watch a movie, we expect to be entertained. But when we're walking to class we don't really expect much enjoyment, and so it gives more pleasure when you see that extra crunchy looking leaf just a half-step out of your way and hear it and all the other fall leaves crunching underfoot. The simplest things are what make day to day life enjoyable. A hug from a friend, a good meaningful conversation, listening to a beautiful peace of music, dancing to a fast paced song, a fast paced sparring match, sitting by a rushing stream, watching the sun rise, or taking a warm shower, these all are very simple things that for some reason just make me happy. As I was saying, I was listening to Oliver play, and he was playing a fairly simple piece and that got me thinking about how God shows himself in the simplest pleasures in life. I agree with C.S. Lewis that God speaks to us most loudly through our pain, but I believe he shows himself most clearly through the little pleasures in life. It's his way of showing that no matter how complicated and how hard life may get there is joy and something greater behind it all.

The second thing that came to me as I sat listening happened as Oliver brought a little more complexity to the piece. I wasn't watching his hands, so I can't swear to this, but it sounded like he kept playing a fairly simple tune with one hand, and began a more complex rippling counterpoint with the other hand. As he played, I noticed that a few times he made a little mistake with the simpler tune but it was always covered up by the counterpoint. That got me thinking about how much our relationship with God is like that. He is the complex, beautiful counterpoint to our simple, sometimes stumbling little tune, and any mistakes that we might make are covered by the unwavering beauty of His grace and love that enriches our life song and takes it from a quite simple little piece into a beautiful complex piece of music that brings happiness to those who experience it. It also reminded me of a story:

Little Albert was learning the piano. He was about six years old, but he really enjoyed playing. He had just finished memorizing and playing through perfectly his first song, "Chopsticks", and his mother decided to take him to see a world famous pianist . Albert was excited, and couldn't wait for the day of the concert. He and his mother got to their seats, and his mother started talking to some other people nearby. Just before time for the curtain to rise and the concert to start, Albert's mother noticed that he wasn't sitting next to her. She began to look around for him, but before she could start to panic, everyone heard a piano. The lights quickly dimmed, the spotlights turned toward the stage, and the curtain came up to show...little Albert, sitting at the concert piano, his feet dangling from the bench, playing "Chopsticks". Everyone in the concert hall started muttering, but before anyone could do anything, the pianist came on stage. "You play very well, young man. I believe I know that piece, would you mind if I played with you?" Little Albert, completely unselfconsciously agreed, and the pianist sat down next to him. Albert started playing again, and after a second the pianist joined in, creating a beautiful harmony that supported, enhanced, but never drowned out the little boy's playing of "Chopsticks". When they were done playing, the pianist had Albert take a bow to a standing ovation before directing him back to his seat and continuing with the concert.

That story is to me one of the best parallels of God's relationship with us, or at least the one he wants to have with us. Like little Albert, we are sitting at a piano much too big for us, in front of a crowd of people who constantly question what we are doing up there, playing our simple, sometimes stumbling "Chopsticks". Then the master pianist comes, and says: "I think I know that song. Would you mind if I play it with you?" Even though it is His piano, and He could demand we yield our seat to Him, He does not, simply asking if we would like for Him to play along with us. If we refuse, He simply waits for us to finish, we will be done soon enough. If we agree, however, he will help us to create something beautiful beyond our wildest dreams, that will cause the crowd to stand and applaud despite themselves, because they realize they have witnessed something amazing.

Simplicity and complexity, grace and love, these are the themes that have been running through my head lately, but I think I can boil it down to one sentence, spoken by the master pianist. "I recognize that tune, stumbling and inexpert as it is, and I love both you and it; would you mind if I played it with you?"