Wednesday, June 17, 2009

The same chord

I've posted this excerpt a long time ago, but reading this book again, I was struck once more by the profound simplicity of the message.

So here, again, is an excerpt from the absolutely delightful Mister God, This is Anna.

"Fynn," her voice was a squeak of amazement, "Fynn, we're all playing the same chord."

"I'm not surprised," I said. "What are we talking about?"

"Fynn, its all them different names for churches."

"So what's that got to do with chords?" I asked.

"We're all playing the same chord to Mister God, but with different names."

It was this kind of thing that was so exciting about talking to Anna. She had this capacity for taking a statement of fact in one subject, teasing it until she discovered its pattern, then looking around for a similar pattern in another subject. Anna had a high regard for facts, yet the importance of a fact did not lie in its uniqueness but in its ability to do service in diverse subjects. Had Anna ever been given a convincing argument in favor of atheism, she'd have teased it about until she got a firm hold of the pattern, viewed it from all sides, and then shown you that the whole argument was a necessary ingredient in the existence of God. The chord of atheism might be a discord, but then discords were in Anna's estimation "thrilly," but definitely, "thrilly".

"Fynn, them names of them chords," she began.

"What about them?" I asked.

"The home note can't be Mister God because then we couldn't call them different names. They would all be the same name," she said.

"I guess you're right at that. What is the home note then?"

"It's me or you or Ali. Fynn, it's everybody. That's why it's all different names. That's why it's all different Churches. That's what it is."

It makes sense, doesn't it? We're all playing the same chord, but it seems we don't know it. You call your chord a C major, while I call the same notes A minor seventh. I call myself a Christian, what do you call yourself? I reckon Mister God must be pretty good at music, he knows all the names of the chords. Perhaps he doesn't mind what you call it, as long as you play it.

2 comments:

8&20 said...

Absolutely darling, Nik.

You know, I had gifted this book to my best friend in 11th grade, before I left for Germany. She told me that she had it by her bedside for many, many years after. And then when I visited her (saw her after 12 years), I was going through only this handful of books that she had up in her living room. This was one of them, and I was moved to bits (though I said not a word about it then :).

Anyway, it's a special book. And Anna is somehow rather special too :).

Unknown said...

However the history of how the various denominations got started, it is not as though they were each seeking a chord of praise for the Other, more like self-praise. The later members of the orchestra jumped on the bandwagon, and so it became "the tradition". And what about all those extra notes that have been added since then, those jazz-like improvs? Wouldn't silence be a whole lot more merciful?