As his fingers fly effortlessly across the ivories, I imagine poor Mozart in agony, rolling around in his grave. A glow of pride emanates from my student’s face, satisfied with the lengthy and diligent efforts he has invested in his music during the past week. How do I tell this student? It’s probably a good thing Mozart is already dead. He won’t actually be able to hear the unintentional mutilation of his music.
At the final cadence, my student lifts his hands from the keys in a grand gesture. Our eyes meet. I smile and immediately tell him something significant he did well. He nods confidently, certain he has the piece nailed. The competitions are in just a few weeks. He knows he is perfectly ready.
“Have you done any metronome work?” I ask in my super-duper nice and friendly voice.
“Metronome work? My tempo is steady. I can feel it. It’s right on! I don’t need to use a metronome!”
“Well, let’s see what the metronome has to say. Metronomes don’t lie. We set the metronome as our perfect standard for an unwavering tempo. It won’t get caught up with you in feeling the thrill of different sections of your Sonata. It’ll just keep ticking away, holding you accountable to its perfect standard.”
I reach for my old-fashioned ticker and set the metronome to a slightly slower tempo, allowing my student to acclimate to the new pulsation. As he hits the scalar passages, with runs ascending and descending the keyboard, his hubris morphs into humility. He shakes his head in disbelief.
“It felt so right! I had no doubt in my mind the tempo was steady. How can it be wrong when it feels right?”
That’s a great question.
How can it be wrong when it feels right?
After all, a thought is just a thought. Deeds done in secret which don’t actually ‘hurt’ someone aren’t really bad, are they? It’s just a book, and it’s just a movie. I’m using this for medicinal purposes; it’s helping me, not hurting me. That’s just the way they did it in Bible times; it doesn’t apply in today’s world. It feels right, so it can’t possibly be wrong.
I picture myself living life in a tiny rowboat adrift at sea. No land is in sight, and the stratus ceiling hinders my navigation. Some days, the constant waves simply rock my boat back and forth. Other days, a Goliath-sized wave threatens to capsize my vessel, but I keep afloat. Without navigation tools, I am simply at the mercy of the wind and waves. Without an anchor, I am but a floating nomad. How does this translate to my real life?
Invited to watch a movie with a friend, I easily get caught up in the pitiful life of the main character. Why did she ever marry such a jerk? When Prince Charming enters the scene, I find my heart desiring for her to leave her husband and commit adultery. It feels right.
Bumper stickers and yard signs scream at me, exposing the naked truth of who my neighbors will be voting for in the upcoming elections. The line is drawn in the sand. A little man in red with a pitchfork sits on my shoulder and whispers, “They are your enemies!” He cackles wickedly. I agree with him. They are my enemies. My anger is justifiable, isn’t it?
I seek out volunteers at church, desperate to staff the never-ending children’s programs in a church blessed with an abundance of kiddos. Receiving dozens of ‘No’s’, I admit defeat. They have rejected me. I am unworthy. The people telling me “No” are not actually my friends. I don’t belong here. Maybe I should find a different church.
My boat continues to rock back and forth, tossed to-and-fro with every wave. Frustrated and seasick, I grab my Bible and bind it with heavy cable. Hurling it into the sea, I watch as God’s Word sinks to the bottom of the ocean. The cable swiftly unwinds from the stern. A final yank and jerk of the boat tells me my Bible has settled on the ocean floor.
The winds and the waves immediately cease. The rocking desists. All is calm, as on Mirror Lake. I am no longer a nomad; God’s Word preventing me from wandering. I am no longer subject to the wind and the waves; God’s Word is my anchor, holding me fast.
After the movie, I open up discussion with my friend. Is that how we should advise a friend in the midst of a rocky time in their marriage? Should we encourage them in the “My husband’s being a jerk” conversation, or should we lead them to the Rock which is higher? Oh, how easily we are swayed by one tiny wave!
The political road sign population continues to multiply, creating the need for road-sign contraception. The man in red on my shoulder continues poking me with his pitchfork. I flick him off and crush him like an ant. Hastily, the tip of my shoe smooths out the sandy line between my neighbors and me. I step to the other side, choosing to love those who presume my judgment.
I pick up the phone to make another call to find volunteers. In time, I will reap a harvest, if I do not give up. (Galatians 6:9-10)
The metronome keeps ticking. Soon the scalar passages maintain the same tempo. As the winds blow sixteenth notes, contrasted with triplets, set apart from eighth notes, settling into quarter-note cadences; Mozart’s tempo is not altered.
“I’ve spent enough time with the metronome, that now what’s right actually feels right!”
And so it is with God’s Word.
“Feelings are not facts” Dr. Lee Warren, 2nd Commandment of Self-Brain Surgery, https://wleewarrenmd.com/podcast/
Photo by Rachel Loughman on Unsplash
Reminds me of a Barbara Mandrell song years ago. "If Loving You is Wrong, I Don't Want to Be Right". It can't possibly be wrong 'cause it feels so right! A pretty song, catchy melody. Mandrell has a beautiful voice. But yet another song encouraging the culture to "fall for the lie". To give in to feelings and abandon your committments. So many times people fall for it (myself included sady). Give in to feelings. And then pay the price-eventually. Gods Word says "lean not on your own understanding, but in all ways acknowledge him and He will make your path straight." Amen to that!