Fingerprints of the Divine

A communion table with a beautiful and intricate carving depicting the Last Supper graces the center of out church’s main gathering room. A cross is displayed behind it, and one side of the room is taken up by a baptismal and beautiful stained glass that portrays the nativity. But one reason first-time visitors often say they’re struck with a sense of awe here is that a huge pipe organ dominates the other side.

The organ is a thing of beauty not only because of how it looks but also because of the music produced by it. I love the rumble I feel in my chest when the lowest foot pedals are played. A damper pedal makes it possible for the organist to control how loud or soft the sound will be, and when she opens that baby up and releases the sound for all it’s worth, it blows me away. The organ even has a little button she can press with her foot for a series of bells that ring out like angelic chimes.

Like all instruments crafted with care and precision—and well-cared for—this organ can make beautiful sounds. But like all instruments, when in the hands of a master, it can produce sound that goes beyond beauty. It can be holy.

In my opinion, we have organists, and then we have organists. I may be biased, because the organist I speak of is my church organist, but there is something unique about this woman. I know this to be true not only because of her advanced degrees and training, but because sometimes when she plays, I can’t help but cry.

We have all probably experienced being overcome by something so beautiful and moving we are brought to tears. For me, it’s often music. I’ve noticed this happens when an extraordinary instrument, a musician who has honed the gift God has given them, and music so intricate or moving that it can only have been divinely inspired are combined.

Some Sundays I watch our organist play, and I know without a doubt that she is doing God’s work—not because we are in church, but because she has honored and cherished the talent she’s been given. She has tended it and pursued it, dedicating herself to her craft. In his book Outliers, Malcolm Gladwell tells us becoming an expert in anything can take more than ten thousand hours of practice.

Our organist also plays music that may have been written centuries ago but still inspires. Music written by imperfect men. Men who were haunted by their own demons, were deaf, had selfish desires. Men and women who, like all of us, had fallen short of mercy and redemption but were granted unconditional love and mercy anyway because God wastes nothing and knows our fullest potential. Over and over, God speaks to the world through the gifts he’s given us.

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When the organist’s gift is combined with the gift of the composer and then expressed on an instrument invented for the sole purpose of creating beauty, the tears flow and I know the Holy Spirit is speaking to me.

In our human nature, we want to try to understand our Creator, and I believe art is one expression of the result of our pursuit to know God better. The sole purpose of art is to bring beauty and awareness into the world, to expand our understanding of our relationship with each other, the world, and God. When we pursue our Creator, our hearts and eyes are opened to the beauty he has crafted in our lives.

I’ve noticed that the more I look for divine beauty in the world, the more it will make itself known. I encourage you to do the same. And when music, dance, books, or art in another of its many mediums moves you to tears, pay attention. Look for the fingerprints of the divine. When we experience the combination of God’s design and men and women’s desire to create beauty, something holy happens.

Stephanie Clinton is a writer and blogger but more importantly, a wife and mother to two little boys. In her free time (if there is any) she can be found wiping snotty noses and volunteering in her community and school. Learn more about Stephanie along with her passion to encourage women and lighten their load at www.hugskissesandsnot.com.