Lenten Adventure

Dear Brushstrokes Subscribers,

On Wednesday, March 6th, the season of Lent begins. For churchy people, that’s a season to prepare for Easter. For others, it’s an opportunity to try something new. Either way, it’s an opportunity to grow spiritually, and I wanted to invite all the people who read Brushstrokes to come on a Lenten Adventure.

You are invited to observe Lent by coming on a walk. Actually, it’s more like a climb, but, either way, it’s a 47-day adventure (40 days + Sundays) from Ash Wednesday (3/6) to Easter (4/21). We will “walk” together as if climbing a mountain and use the climb as an allegory to journey deeper into our spiritual lives.

Each day, those who sign up will receive a short meditation which will explore some aspect of the spiritual climb. Participants can leave it at that, or they can explore the meditation further in a short written response. The adventure is theirs. How they climb is up to them.

This is something outside of Brushstrokes, so if you are interested, you will need to send me an email telling me you want to participate. I will then put you on the (private) list and you will receive an introductory email, then 47 daily ones beginning on Ash Wednesday

My email is: chipbristol@gmail.com. (I will close the invitation, or zip up my pack, so to speak, on Tuesday 3/5. It’s too cumbersome to try to catch people up once we’ve begun.)

Regardless of whether you choose to come along or not, I hope the season of Lent will be a meaningful one for you. 

- Chip

PS Feel free to send this invitation to those you think might be interested. I am happy to put them on the list if they email me.

Playing your music: Part II

He was born with hands made for the piano, with fingers long and lean and a reach superior to most pianists. The problem was, however, they were also black. In the time of segregation, the chance of a black pianist making it was almost out of the question.

He tried to play any piano he saw, but it wasn’t until his talents were recognized by whites that such opportunities became plentiful. He became one of the great pianists of his day, and, even in the deep south, audiences came to hear him play. With his starched white shirt, black tie, and flapping tails, he sat and played his role with as much artistry as he did the piano. Beneath his wide smile was a smoldering rage. He was performing, playing all the music the audience wanted to hear, but it wasn’t the music he was meant to play. Classical music was his love, particularly Chopin. “No one plays Chopin the way I do,” he confessed to his driver, and when he finally played it in a spontaneous moment, it was unlike anything people had heard.

As I sat and watched the film, I couldn’t understand why he didn’t play his music, why he let the audience dictate what he played? It was such a sad story, and it wrenched my heart to watch someone not be who they were created to be, but I have come to see what a familiar story it is. The other versions may not include pianos or race, but they all speak of people playing to an audience and not using their God-given talents to bring into the world what they alone could bring. 

Eventually, I came to see moments in my own life where I have done the same and wonder if you have as well? Have you plaid to the audience? Have you denied the music within you? The good news is that our stories aren’t over. Maybe we will find the courage to play the music that is uniquely ours to play, the kind no one can play like we could.

Extra Credit: Go see The Green Book at a theater near you.

Playing your music: Part I

He was just a roadie, the kind Jackson Browne made famous in a song. He and the others were the first to come and the last to leave. The ones to roll the cases, lift the amps, haul the trusses, and push the countless pieces of equipment up the ramps onto the stage. He needed a job and was glad to be working for this up and coming band with the peculiar name Lynyrd Skynyrd. His name was Billy Powell.

One afternoon when everything was set up and he thought the arena was empty, Billy sat down at the piano. He had trained as a classical pianist, but there was no money in that, so he became a roadie. His hands still remembered how to make music, it turned out, and as he sat there much of his training returned.

Soon, the large space was filled with glorious music. It so happened one of the band members stopped by to pick something up and heard the music. He went up to see who was playing and couldn’t believe it was one of the roadies. That moment changed Billy Powell’s life. It also changed band’s.

The story always makes me wonder who else possesses undiscovered talents? Who’s busy doing work they’re not called to do? Who, if given the chance, could fill the world with glorious music?

Every time I listen to Lynyrd Skynyrd, I listen for the piano and give thanks Billy took the chance and sat down and played. It was where he truly belonged. It was the music that was his to play.

May we all do the same. 

Extra Credit: Listen to the beginning of Free Bird, or listen to this (not great coverage of Billy but you can certainly hear him) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EsIqEq9OFxE