We greeted each other in the narthex at church today. As it so often does, our conversation turned to the Faith.
Margaret told me she had never thought of faith as a kind of journey - until she met me. Her life as a cradle Catholic was steady. Unquestioned. Loved. Still, it simply was. More like a state of being rather than a journey.
But she said it's different now. She senses that her faith has always been a journey, even though that journey has been taking place on a level just below her consciousness.
And then we touched on music - another metaphor for this life of grace. Margaret's song - her life - has been a lovely piece of music, soft and beautiful, mostly pianissimo, with steady 4/4 time.
My journey started out as a simple song. Like Twinkle, Twinkle. As for substance, mostly just the bare minimum theology which the Protestant Reformation retained from its Catholic roots.
But then, a dissonance interrupted everything, and all I wanted was some resolution. I wanted desperately to stop those notes that didn't seem to go together. I wanted my simple Twinkle, Twinkle once again. Instead, the music was loud and demanded my attention and cried out for chords that worked together.
And then it came. The understanding and knowledge. Those beautiful gifts of the Holy Spirit. Right judgment. Awe. Reverence.
A complicated arrangement replaced the cacophony, and - for the first time - I experienced advanced dynamics that pulled at the soul and carried her higher. The music of faith transitioned into a movement of exquisite sweetness, made all the sweeter because it followed the dark dissonance.
The Resolution. The Climax. The moment when grace sings the melody and all instruments highlight her voice.
Faith is a journey. Grace is a song.
Whether we realize it or not.
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