Last Friday night, my husband David and I enjoyed date night out at Keystone Korner, a jazz restaurant bar on Lancaster Street by Harbor East. With COVID infection numbers continuing to drop (and our ever-present-safety-measure-K95 masks still on us), it did feel wonderful to “exhale”, metaphorically and literally, enjoying being out and socializing beyond the walls of our home. The jazz artist featured that evening was Grammy-award winning guitarist John Scofield (who, among other collaborators, toured and recorded with the legendary Miles Davis in the 1980’s).
Unlike my better half, I am relatively new to the world of jazz. Jazz, frankly, used to baffle me; and when David first introduced me to this genre of music, I would listen in earnest, trying wholeheartedly to understand and grasp its appeal. Over the years listening to jazz regularly, while in the kitchen together or driving in the car, I’ve come to love its depth and breadth, wealth and intricacies. Last Friday, discovering and recognizing the threads of Glen Campbell’s “Wichita Lineman” and Neil Young’s “Old Man” (and yes, I realize I’m dating myself!) weaved into the musical fabric by John Schofield’s expert guitar-fingers, alongside piano and bass notes and drumbeats, made my heart and soul smile: “Yes, that sounds so familiar … ooohhh, I think I recognize that tune … yes, yes, I know that … and that one, too … and that one, too!”
I’ve been reflecting on my recent live jazz experience as I think about you … and me … and the mystery that is “God”; because it occurs to me that, perhaps, coming to appreciate, experience and enjoy jazz is a bit like coming to appreciate, experience and enjoy God, who weaves Her way into our lives, in ways that aren’t always obvious and instantly recognizable and/but can be recognized over time, with regular “listening” and “seeing” and “practice”, if we have eyes to see and ears to hear; if we have an earnest, seeking heart.
In my own life, I’ve found that seeing how God – how something bigger and wiser, more compassionate and more loving, deeper and broader, more expansive and inclusive, than you and me – was “at play” and “in the mix”, “present” and “at work”, is often somewhat easier in hindsight over time, at a distance looking backwards. And to be aware of God’s Presence in the Present Moment, especially when that moment, or those moments, are difficult or uncomfortable, hard or challenging, frightening or scary, out of our control and full of pain or suffering, is not so easy.
And yet, God Is There. Here. Present. In You. And In Me. Woven into the fabric of our earthly lives, even as we stretch and yearn to hear Her, to feel Him. Like the bass notes and drumbeats undergirding a jazz piece, God’s rhythmic pulse persists, unbroken. Like the hint of a familiar melody being played on guitar strings, God’s voice calls and sings, ever inviting, ever assuring, ever loving.
A mystery (… like jazz once was, and sometimes still is, to me …), yes. A gift, yes. A grace, yes.
Come and listen. Come and see. Come … Breathe … and BE.
Love,
Cristina