The English Horn and the 12th Hour Workers

Friday night was the long awaited much touted Grand Opening of the new Dallas Opera House. Unfortunately for my son, but fortunately for me - he has yet to find a young woman to appreciate his front row season tickets to the Opera.

The fanfare, seeing the beautiful and fashionable arriving and finding our front row seats just to the left of the Maestro was beyond exciting. We applauded as the former First Lady Laura Bush was introduced, as well as the mayor of Dallas who was just a few seats away. It was one of those moments in my life where I felt like, "I have arrived." All the while secretly acknowledging, I am really way out of and far above my normal lifestyle.

It was incredible to sit so close to the orchestra and watch them all preparing, tuning and waiting for the entrance of the Maestro. He made the familiar tap, and with arms raised the music played, the curtain rose and the show began.

My eyes scanned the orchestra pit, watching the adagios and the allegros played out by the various instruments. After the close of Act II I noticed the English Horn player had been absent the whole second act. My son and I discussed this and he casually mentioned even in absentia, he probably still gets paid the same amount as all the other players. "What! He didn't blow a single note in all of Act II. How is that fair? I just watched the cellist play her guts out and even let out an audible (to the front row fans) "Whew". It reminded me of the parable of the 12th hour workers.

Those who negotiated for the rate at the start of the day were upset that the workmen who showed up the last hour got the same amount. The Master questioned if they were angry because He was generous.

The last act began and out walked the English Horn player. He took his seat and again, the orchestra (and audience) waited for the entrance of the Maestro.

Tap Tap

The singular solo notes of the English Horn startled me and also made me smile. Here I had been thinking he was way over paid - and now the beautiful sound carried the "rest of the show."

We are His orchestra.

Sometimes we have solo performances, sometimes we all make sound at the same time, and sometimes when we "practice" it seems like just a lot of noise. I could relate to the cellist after a particularly long stanza, just letting out a sigh of relief it was over, well played.

I am waiting to hear the tap from the Maestro. I am in place ready to begin the "performance" at the Wounded Warrior Getaway. Some of you may be issuing forth exclamations at recent endurance performances the Master has called you to participate in. Some of you may be waiting in the wings, ready for the next "Act." Others may be tired of holding up the seemingly insignificant triangle for the single note that is very noticed.

The Scripture is very specific that we are ONE body with Christ as the head. Not one is more important than the other, the outward not better than the "innards"! It takes an orchestra to create a symphony. It takes all of us working together playing our assigned parts to "bring the house down." Those may be strongholds of depression, despair, feelings of forsakenness and doubt. And especially the one that makes the heavenly chorus break forth in rejoicing - a life redeemed. The Maestro has given us a willing audience; the Word says, "The Harvest is ripe. Pray to the Lord of the Harvest."

I hear His steps
Get ready to play
Smiling of course