– Len Ballantine
Adapted from the original article printed in THEME Apr-May-Jun 2005

Because movies are nearly as commonly referred to in conversation as weather, I delight in discovering illustrations drawn from the silver screen. I share this one because it is musical in nature, and because it powerfully illustrates a recurring theme that you will find in here in this website…

The Parable
The film Children of a Lesser God is set in a school for the deaf, where a beautiful young deaf student (Marlee Matlin) falls in love with her ‘hearing’ teacher (William Hurt). As a child, something has arrested her emotional growth and now as a young adult she appears to be a deeply brooding individual with hidden issues which erupt regularly into fits of rage. The story of their relationship is marked by many arguments and highly charged scenes, where William Hurt’s mastery of sign language and the accompanying emotions were brilliantly put to test.

On one such occasion, William Hurt’s character is trying to encourage his lover to attempt ‘real’ speech. After all, hadn’t he learned sign language? Marlee resists. In fact, she has always resisted, pretending not to have even attempted lip-reading, let alone speaking. William pushes. “Why not try? Use your God-given voice!”, he implores. “Why should I?”, she responds, “What is so good about your hearing world, anyway?”

The scene melts into icy silence, mirroring the world which is constant companion to the deaf. She retreats to the kitchen. He retreats to the stereo. He puts on some music, and Bach’s winsome Largo from the Double Concerto for Violins begins to seep into the room. He falls into a calm reverie. She emerges from hiding.

Prodding him further, Marlee insists that he ‘tell’ her what the music is like, why it moves him, and what she is missing. He prepares to answer, listening with fresh ears to the music which now fills the room. The first solo violin begins a soul-filled theme. Then the second soloist joins in answer. Slowly the two melodies mingle and become a rich counterpoint of highest art. Hurt closes his eyes, lost in the sacredness of the moment. We see his face respond to the music, and somehow we know he hears it and loves it both emotionally and intellectually. Such beauty. Such artistry. How can he share this complex hearing world with one who has never heard a sound of any kind?

Clearly, he must hear for her, and sift his own responses for a way of conveying the impact of the music. He reaches upward with his hand, one finger lifted to trace the arc of the melody. With the other hand he describes the supporting role of the counterpoint, then the divine interplay of the lines as they melt together. In a moment of sheer inspiration he points longingly to the heavens where he senses his heart has been taken. But then . . . a grimaced, bittersweet look overtakes his face, betraying the frustration of his failure. He shakes his head. He cannot do justice to the sublime. It is too difficult.

The Parable Unpacked:
The Bach Double Concerto for Violins in Children of a Lesser God is like the Word of God. We are William Hurt. We love the Word of God. We appreciate it and know how beautiful it is. We want desperately to convey something of its meaning and worth so that someone who has never heard it might come to love it, too. In fact, everything about God and faith and Scripture is foreign to them and we find the task of standing in the gap a compelling if daunting one.

Think for a moment how different the scene would have been if William Hurt hadn’t really loved the Bach Double Concerto for Violins. If he didn’t appreciate its artistic merit, if it had no meaning to him, if it had never reached into his soul and touched him with its divine inspiration . . . would he have been able to communicate anything of its goodness or worth to another? Would he even bother trying?

The Parable Repacked:
The Word of God is living and active. Do we know this for ourselves? If we do not, our craft as communicators through music and the dramatic arts will be a pitiful waste of time. If we do not love the Word of God, if we do not appreciate its living reality ourselves, God help us if we stand in the place of ambassador, of singer, of player! Our signs will be hollow and our meaning base.

“The Word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart” (Hebrews 4:12).

This illustrates the high calling of Salvationist musicians. We love our art. We understand its power. But we love God more and hold his Word as the essence of what we are ‘signing’ to the spiritually deaf in our world.

May God grant us creativity, and wisdom, and heart, for this amazing task.