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Never have I played for a more grateful audience. Somehow it didn't matter that by the end, my intonation was shot and I had no bow control. I would have lost any competition I was playing in, but it didn't matter. The men would come up the stairs in full gear, remove their helmets, look at me, and smile...By this time it was 11:30, and I didn't think I could play anymore. I asked Sergeant Major if it would be appropriate if I played the National Anthem. He shouted above the chaos of the milling soldiers to call them to attention, and I played the National Anthem as the 300 men of the 69th Division saluted an invisible flag...As I rode the taxi back to Juilliard...I was numb. Not only was this evening the proudest I've ever felt to be an American, it was my most meaningful as a musician and a person as well...I've never understood so fully what it means to communicate music to other people...Words only go so far...Amen to that.
"It was at the end of the day. I entered the outer office of his law firm. Everyone had left. All was dark, except for a light coming from the inner office. He called to me. Invited me to come back to his office.There is therapy in melody...healing in 4/4 time. God's good gift of music. Hear again the conclusion of the text, and when you hear the name Saul, substitute your own name in its place and let this lesson be engraved on the tablets of your heart: "Whenever the [evil] spirit came upon Saul, David would take his harp and play. Then relief would come to Saul; he would feel better, and the evil spirit would leave him." Remember that...and live.
"'Didn't expect to see you here, preacher,' he said in a voice that sounded tired. 'Come on in, I was just about to fix myself a drink. Can I interest you in one?'
"'Sure,' I said, 'if it's caffeine free, diet.'
"He poured out the drinks, offered me a seat, reared himself back in his chair, feet on the disordered desk before him.
"'What sort of day have you had?' I asked.
"'A typical day,' he said, again sounding tired. 'Misery.'
"'Oh, I'm sorry. What was miserable about it?' I asked.
"'My day began with my assisting a couple evict their aging father from his house so they could take everything he has while he's in the nursing home. All legal. Not particularly moral, but legal. Then, by lunchtime I was helping a client evade his workers' insurance payments. It's legal! This afternoon, I have been enabling a woman to ruin her husband's life forever with the sweetest divorce you ever saw. That's my day.'
"What could I say?
"'Which,' he continued, 'helps explain why I'm in your church on a Sunday morning.'
"'I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed,' I said, 'thinking what on earth I have to say in a sermon which might be helpful to you on a Sunday.'
"'It's not the sermon that I come for, preacher,' he said, fixing his gaze upon me. 'It's the music. I go a whole week sometimes with nothing beautiful, little good, until Sunday. Sometimes, when that choir sings, it is for me the difference between life and death.'"(2)
1. Bruce C. Birch, "The First And Second Books of Samuel: Introduction, Commentary, and Reflections," New Interpreter's Bible, electronic edition (Nashville: Abingdon, 2000)
2. Will Willimon, "The Gothic Spirit," http://www.chapel.duke.edu/sermons/090896.htm

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