Several years ago Mary and I received tickets from close friends to see the “Phantom of the Opera” in Kansas City. Our friends had received the tickets as a gift but were not able to attend. The musical was just beginning to travel across the country after a long and successful run on Broadway. We were very excited to see it and decided to make it a special “At the Theater” date night.
We were not aware that the doors were closed just before show time because of the dramatic opening scene. We arrived just in time to be hurried by the usher to our seats. But to our surprise they were already occupied. Checking both sets of tickets, the usher told us that there was a problem and took us down to the main ticket booth for an explanation.
The manager looked at our tickets and explained that they were bogus. Fearing arrest and expulsion, I related how we got the tickets and our friends (and source) would surely not do such a thing. We must have been convincingly embarrassed because the manager took pity on our situation. Looking at the remainder of options she said she had only two seats left in the theater and we could have them if we wanted. She called them “limited visibility” seats. I expected them to be up in the lighting booth or under the stage but to our surprise they were in the front, far left row. Only one corner of the stage was blocked. Superior upgrade!
Thinking that I would never be this close to the stage again, I decided to explore the orchestra pit during the intermission. It was located under the stage so, as unobtrusively as possible, I wondered down into the “pit”.
The musicians were on break as I entered this mysterious new world. What most intrigued me was the view from the “pit”. Sunken beneath the stage the only thing that orchestra members could see was the platform of the conductor. They couldn’t see the stage, the audience, or even the ceiling which was obscured by the lights.
My first thought was “how inconvenient”. But on further reflection it made sense. They didn’t need to see the stage or the audience. They only needed to see the conductor and only he needed to see the stage. Their role was to keep one eye on their music and the other on the conductor. He would cue them when to start and stop, how loud or soft, how fast or slow to play. They were not performing for the actors or the audience but only for the conductor. It was the conductor’s job to please the actors, audience, and owners, etc. The musician’s job was to please the conductor.
It struck me how similar discipleship is to that pit orchestra. We are called to follow Him, the conductor of the orchestra. We have our own score (music) and it is but one part of many that creates the music. Each part blending with others to give harmony, depth, and clarity to the drama taking place even though we cannot see and may never even know what is being played out.
Our focus is not on who or how many tickets are sold, how many showed up for the performance or the volume of their applause. It is pretty simple: play our part well for the approval of the Conductor.
My next question was personal: Who do I play for? The applause of the crowd? The praise of the actors? The members of the orchestra? Myself? Or is it for an audience of One (John 8:29)?
“So we have not stopped praying for you since we first heard about you. We ask God to give you complete knowledge of His will and to give you spiritual wisdom and understanding. Then the way you live will always honor and please the Lord,” (Col 1:9-10).
“For we speak as messengers approved by God to be entrusted with the Good News. Our purpose is to please God, not people. He alone examines the motives of our hearts” (1Thess. 2:4)
It’s a process of maturity, of learning to shift the focus from ourselves to the One who created and called us. We began our apprenticeship with Christ with a strong bent toward self-fulfillment and narcissism wanting our spiritual needs met and our brokenness healed. But having experienced His gracious provision, our relationship needs to refocus on Christ and His purposes. As part of His orchestra, our role is a gift and whether we play oboe or violin, first chair or last, melody or harmony, we are to play our part with enthusiastic excellence…for the Conductor.
Some days I think I get it. Some days definitely not. Most days are a mixture of motives that are not clear. So I welcome Paul’s prayer of Col 1:9-10 for spiritual wisdom and understanding. I need His work of liberation from my self-centeredness in order to “walk worthy of the Lord and please Him in all respects”… performing my part for an audience of One.
Question for reflection:
What concepts or perspectives can help us shift from using God to pleasing Him?
Wow, what an amazing parallel! I needed this… I’m working on pleasing the conductor and not getting the credit myself. Really encouraged by this post!
I really liked this one, and have shared it with several family and friends.