Volume 29, No.45                                      
November 21, 2004

Heavenly Instruments

   Think of it as perfection, with strings attached — in more ways than one.

   In what amounts to every collector’s dream, violins bearing the Stradivarius label surface from time to time in cluttered shops or dusty attics, generating great excitement. And no wonder. Italian master Antonio Stradivari  revolutionized the instrument’s design in the early 1700s and crafted what many call the most heavenly-sounding violins ever made.  His originals fetch staggering prices.

  It all began when Stradivari was a student of violin maker Nicolo Amati, one of the greatest craftsmen of his time.  But even at age 22, Stradivari was producing better instruments than his master and began signing them with the Latin version of his name, Stradivarius.

   It’s estimated that of the 1,100 instruments he made, 450 violins have survived, along with numerous violas, cellos, guitars and even a few harps.  The expert’s tools, patterns and moulds still exist, too, but his admirers say even today’s gifted artisans can’t use them to duplicate what only the skill and knowledge of Stradivari could do.

   Though no one’s sure why his instruments were so superior, it’s well known that later violin makers followed his standard and gave him credit by labeling their instruments Stradivarius.  This was never meant to deceive anyone.  It was simply a way of saying the violin was modeled on Stradivari’s design.

   But over time, the true intention of those labels was forgotten.  So today, thousands of unintentionally “fake” Stradivarius violins are still in circulation.  Even the experts have been fooled.  In 1999, a museum in Oxford, England, had to admit it might have a phony on its hands.  Its violin called The Messiah, described for years by the museum as “a flawless Stradivarius jewel” was later proven to have been made from a spruce chopped down after Stradivari died in 1737.

   In much the same way, there’s great disillusionment when it’s discovered we’re not the instruments of the Master we were once thought to be.  Sometimes that discovery is made slowly by those who watch us and find so many ways in which we don’t measure up to his glorious standards.  Or the revelation comes with shocking suddenness when we do something shamefully unChristian that jolts us off the pedestal they once put us on.

   But since we each know ourself best, that profound epiphany of our personal imperfection almost always springs first from our own torn and tormented heart. It’s born of sin, doubt or some dark secret that suffocates peace and hope. We know we’re not who we should be.  We know we’re not who we want to be.  We know we’re not even who people think us to be.

   Ironically, the Master has left behind the plans and tools needed to shape his instruments.  “Hold on to the pattern of right teaching,” we’re told, and “live in the faith and love you have in Christ Jesus.” (2 Tim. 1:13.)  He gives us the level of his Word that “straightens us out and teaches us to do what’s right... fully equipped for every good thing God wants us to do.” (2 Tim. 3:16,17.)  That Word is also a powerful blade that sculpts our attitudes and behaviour.   And though He often works against our grain to remove the things that don’t belong, the Spirit’s awesome power does gradually smooth away the roughness so we can be covered by the lacquer of his love.

   But still we sin.  All of us.  “Oh, what a miserable person I am!” cries Paul.  “Who’ll free me from this life dominated by sin?”  Dominated. Yet when Paul pours out his guts and guilt in Romans 7, we assume his sin wasn’t nearly as bad as ours. But it was, because sin isn’t a matter of frequency or degree.  It’s a condition, and it comes in only one size and severity. Like his sin, Paul’s salvation is the same as ours. “Thank God!  The answer’s in Jesus our Lord.”   

   No, we’re not perfect.  But neither we or the world should expect us to be.  Just because we’re flawed doesn’t make us “fake”.  Designed by the Master, we can still make beautiful music.

By Rick Gamble, published in Cross Current, the weekly newsletter of the Followers of Christ church family in Brantford, Ontario, Canada.  Reprint at will in not-for-profit publications.  To receive these free weekly articles via email, send a note to sgamble@bfree.on.ca