The conductor steps up to the platform, bows to the audience, turns to the orchestra and raises the baton. There is a hush. Hands and instruments are still. All eyes are on the podium. For that split second, no movement, no noise, an air of expectation. Then delicately, the baton dips. The violins begin to play. The cellos join in. The music swells and then fades. The virtuoso soloist takes the bow to the Stradivarius violin, and Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto in D major sweeps in, in all its beauty.
That delicate moment of stillness as a master conductor—when Leonard Bernstein raised his baton—was there a similar quiet when Ezra took the platform to read the newly-found law to the Jews? Was there was an expectant stillness in the synagogue when Jesus stood up to read from the scroll of Isaiah?
That hushed moment is a moment of promise. Something beautiful is about to begin.
The beauty of Ezra’s law is access to God. God the Beautiful is clean and holy. If a Jew wants to come close to God, then he or she has to be clean and holy. The law is the way. “The law of the Lord is perfect, refreshing the soul,” the psalmist sings. The law is deeply beloved for the access that it provides. The people weep. They want to see God.
The beauty of the coming of Jesus is access to God. The law has been fulfilled: Jesus himself is the Way. The Spirit of the Lord is upon him. The kingdom has come. The law has swept into all its glory in the person of Jesus of Nazareth. The love of God has come in human form.
Today’s Gospel is the hush before Jesus’ ministry starts. Something beautiful is about to begin.
Consider/Discuss
- Luke begins the story of Jesus today, a story of healing and redemption and God’s self-gift. In these hushed winter nights, read through the whole Gospel to get the sweep of the symphony. How does the beauty of the whole story touch you?
- Many nights, I listen to Itzhak Perlman play Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto in D major before I fall asleep. The beauty of it leads me into the hush of prayer. St. Augustine prays, “Late have I loved thee, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new. Late have I loved thee.” How do you allow beauty to lead you to God the Beautiful?
Living and Praying with the Word
Holy Spirit, Holy Conductor, hush our noise. As you lift your baton, help us to focus our eyes on you and get ready to play. You give each of us a different instrument, a different part, a unique role in the symphony of life. St. Paul asks us to play our part faithfully. As we head into Ordinary Time in these ordinary days, we don’t know what this New Year will hold. But we believe that your desire is to create something beautiful—liberty to captives, sight to the blind, freedom for the oppressed. Direct us in our part toward that beauty. For yours is the kingdom, the power, and the glory!