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Topic: Beginning and End( 04/16/09)
By Rachel Burkum
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Suddenly, the orchestra comes alive as a beam of light shatters the darkness. The notes thunder through the air, making those who listen tremble. The pounding of the timpani reverberates from east to west, announcing the arrival of a spinning sphere - the handiwork of God.
Stars, moons, planets and galaxies...they gather to hear the music play. The grass of the field waves to the beat, and the trees bow to their Maker. Birds and fish, cattle and insects - all hear the song as the gentle breeze blows. It is the whisper of the Lord.
The stringed instruments begin to raise the tension of the song as new beings are introduced. They are the most precious creations, made in the likeness of God Himself. A flute solo sings a sweet tune. It is the love and bond between Creator and creation.
A page is turned, and the symphony quiets. All seems well. But darkness rises behind the scene, ready to strike at the precisely-timed moment. The cymbals clash, the drums roar and the earth shakes to its core. Something is wrong. There is chaos across the stage. Notes fly in every direction, hurled with force through the woodwinds and harps.
And then...it is still. A sad oboe tells of the separation - the nightfall without a hope of sunrise. Slowly, chords rise again, the instruments bringing back order to the notes. It is a steady tune, but bland and empty. Something is missing. Restoration is incomplete.
Oh, but then the sounds, the beautiful sounds! A joyous French horn rings out clear. It is the announcement of the One who can bring harmony - the One sent by his Father to produce order once again.
The instruments rejoice. They blend together in sweet and festive song, the voices from Heaven joining the melody of ultimate love.
But the darkness lurks again. The minor notes hide behind the volume, infiltrating the scene. When least expected, they spring forth through the screeching violins. A chilled wind blows across the stage. The drums beat an angry tempo, driving fear and pain into the souls of the audience. The only remnant of the Son so loved is the shadow of an empty cross.
Grief-stricken, the melody suffers, forced and pulled into the open against the will of the strings. Tears mingle with the foreboding sounds. Hope seems out of reach and the world is dark once again.
But for those who wait, the gong strikes three. The darkness shrieks with a clamor of sour notes, chased offstage by the horns and bells. He has risen! He is alive! No shadow can remain. Prophecy fulfilled, the instruments play on. It is time. Time to live with a new law in place. Time to look to the golden horizon for soon...soon will be the glorious end.
The clock ticks relentlessly as the stage grows tired. The notes march on, weariness hanging on each measure - each turn of the page. The bells grow dim, the piano flat and hollow. But they must play...they must be heard...they must resist the unleashed darkness that swallows the weak, one by one.
And then...a glimmer, far in the distance. A hush falls over the orchestra as anticipation rises. Is it time? Yes! There He is! The trumpets break forth with vigor set free. All of the brass and strings breathe new life as the crescendo builds and builds until the heavens and earth shake. Singing blends with the instruments and tears of joy rain down.
From the void of darkness to the eternal light, the final measures play. Yet when the end of the song is reached, the Conductor turns one more page. Another composition beyond all imagination awaits.
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