For the Birds

July 19, 2018 ~ Paul Phillips ~ 1 Comment

Birdbrain!

It’s an insult, isn’t it?

It would be if I called you such a name. The implication would be that your brain is so small you can’t make good decisions, or think through problems, or make plans for the future.

I have a bunch of birdbrains at my house. No, really. Birdbrains. And, they don’t make good decisions or think through problems. I’m worried for their future.

My sister brought the feeder with her to work one morning.

“You can find instructions on the internet for making the nectar.”

Nectar. Really. That’s what they call it. I call it sugar water. In fact, that is all there is to it. Sugar. And, water.

But my friend, Jeff, who just passed away last spring, had loved the hummingbirds outside his patio doors. He even named one of them Grace. Why he named it that wasn’t really clear to me.

I thought we’d give it a try. We made up a batch of nectar. Four parts water, one part sugar—boiled to take out any impurities. Nothing else. Sugar water.

Hanging the feeder right outside our front window, we waited for the little hummers to find it. It took awhile. But then, one day as I sat reading in my chair, I heard the hum of wings outside, beating three or four thousand times a minute. It wasn’t quite the hum I had expected—more like a buzzing. You know, like a really loud bumblebee. Or, a wasp.

The little critter hovered over the nectar tip, never alighting on the perch, but it did dip its long beak into the hole for a few seconds and then flitted away, disappearing into the landscape.

It took awhile for many of the little birds to find the feeder, but I’ve been sitting in that chair for a lot of hours since that day. I’m learning about birds’ brains.

Did you know the manufacturer put four nectar tips on the feeder? Four. Ostensibly, it’s so you can observe four hummers at a time as they feed docilely, sharing the moment with each other and any onlookers.

They should have saved the money.

Hummingbirds hate—detest—eating beside each other. I haven’t read that anywhere, but my observations lead me to believe it to be a fact. At no time has there been a full complement of birds to take advantage of the available feeding tips. Never.

If two happen to alight, they perhaps will feed for a moment or two. Perhaps. That assumes they do not look up from their feeding. If one of the two ever lifts its eyes to look at the other, the feeding is over. Over.

Instantly, they fly at each other, not allowing a second’s more drinking of the sugar water. I’ve seen birds actually fall off the feeder, only to catch themselves in mid-air, flapping their wings to halt their tumble. Then, either they will fly away in retreat, or they will engage the aggressor in a mock-battle of sorts, with the disgraced loser zooming away and the victor returning to its feeding.

In the last few days, I have seen as many as seven of the little kamikazes zooming in arcs in the vicinity of the feeder, twittering madly. At times, one will alight, only to sit, its head tilting in all directions, body and mind on high alert to incoming attackers, yet never getting a single drink of the magic elixir.

They don’t eat. The birdbrains fight about eating.

They don't eat. The birdbrains fight about eating. Click To Tweet

I am frustrated. As their provider, I want them to share. I want them to be fed. I want them to live in peace.

There is plenty of nectar for every one of them. Plenty.

There is room at the feeder for them to eat. Side by side.

Why would they fight when they could eat?

Oh.

I understand why Jeff named the hummingbird Grace.

Finally, I understand.

And, the Teacher looked out over His place, the place He wanted to feed His people and wept as He said the words: How often I have tried to bring you together, as a mother hen who gathers her chicks under her wing. But, you refused. (Luke 13:34)

And yet.

Grace.

Perhaps, it’s time for a meal together.

No RSVP needed.

Just come.

Grace.

How wonderful and pleasant it is when brothers live together in harmony.

(Psalm 133:1 ~ NLT ~ Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.)

Harmony makes small things grow. Lack of it makes great things decay.

(Gaius Sallustius Crispus ~ Roman historian/politician ~ 86 BC-35 BC)

Harmony makes small things grow. Click To Tweet

All Together Now

June 13, 2016June 14, 2017 ~ Paul Phillips ~ 2 Comments

She carried the old guitar in, asking if I wanted to buy it.

It’s not an unusual question. It seems I answer that one every day.

They don’t carry in instruments like this one every day, though. The beautiful, vintage guitar grabbed my attention from the moment it came out of the case.

I was pretty sure I did want to buy the pretty thing, but first, I had to hold it in my hands, making sure the initial visual impression would be borne out by the actual playing experience.

Dad had the right idea when he taught me, many years ago, the proof of the pudding is in the eating. Good looks are nice, but the item has to live up to its promises.

Tuning the old strings, I ran the pickup selector switch through all the positions.

In the number 1 position, the neck pickup was full and bass-y. That was exactly what I was expecting.

Then I switched to number 2, and the center pickup dropped out a lot of the bass, but was really strong in the mid-range sounds. Again, no surprises.

Number 3, producing a signal from the pickup nearest the bridge, was very different, with all treble tonalities and almost no sustain. You might even have called it twangy. Exactly the sound a bridge pickup should emit.

Everything worked! But I wasn’t ready to make an offer yet.

I flipped the selector switch to the last position, this one marked ALL.

The change was profound!

All the tonal qualities from each pickup were combined into one signal. The edgy tone of the bridge pickup, the mid-range punch of the center pickup, and the full-throated growl of the neck pickup, all joined their voices to fill the air with captivating sound.

I glanced over at the old woman, seated nearby on a stool, and she was grinning from ear to ear.

“I think the price just went up,” she teased.

Without reservation, the answer to the original question was yes!

Yes, I certainly wanted to buy the guitar, so we struck the deal.

It was hanging on the wall of the music store as I wrote this, awaiting the little bit of tender, loving care that would bring it back to top condition once again.

My mind goes back again to that moment. Oh, it was heaven to hear!

I looked at the name stamped on the headstock of the guitar and thought, how appropriate.

The company that built the fine old instrument was the Harmony Guitar Company.

The lesson I am learning–have been learning for many years–is contained in that brand name. Wrapped up in one word.

I love harmony.

Orchestras, choirs, barbershop quartets, rock groups, or church congregations—it doesn’t matter. All are transformed from a ragtag bunch of individual musicians into one cohesive musical instrument, simply by blending their voices and talents together.

And, whether we are listening, or performing, it is an exquisite joy to experience that blending—that cooperation—with others.

I do love to listen to soloists. But, for the most part, they don’t—ever—sing without harmony. Only if they sing a capella, without accompaniment, do they truly sing a solo.

I don’t think I would ever want to attend an entire concert of a capella solo music. I say that with some assurance. A fair amount.

Our ears naturally want to hear harmonies, if only in the quiet chords of a guitar, or the moving undertones of a string bass.

It is indeed our experience in all of life, and not just in the sphere of music.

We each have a distinctive voice.

Some of us are all grumbly, bassy resonance.

Others are the almost nondescript mid-range, providing the in-between parts in the grand scale of life.

The high voices cut through the mix, edgy and clear.

We need to hear every one of these voices. There is value in each one, and they will each have a time to shine alone.

But, when they join together in harmony, finding the right notes to complement the tonality of all the other voices?

Ah, heaven won’t be much better than that, will it?

Harmony between individuals is, indeed, a great and beautiful gift from our Creator. But, we don’t always want to find the right notes.

Too often, we desire to sing the lead part when we are better suited to a supporting part. We argue and demand our due, creating discord and clashing with our fellow musicians.

I have been the cause of such disunity. I’ve heard the dissonant tones, and watched people cover their ears and walk away in disgust.

Harmony demands the cooperation of everyone in the group. It requires the constant attention to pitch and balance by each participant.

Somehow as a human race (and recent events only serve to put an exclamation point on it) we’re not all that good at holding harmony.

There have been, indeed, periods of spectacular effort and results.

And yet, individual voices always demand, eventually, to be heard above the chorus. The result is always disastrous.

It always will be, when voices won’t follow the direction of the Master Conductor. Harmony is elusive, even non-existent, without Him.

Harmony is elusive, even non-existent, without the Master Conductor. Click To Tweet

How will it ever be any different, if we who claim to follow His lead fight and bicker to prove whose voice should be heard?

How will those who deny His very existence ever see any evidence of who He is? How could they recognize how essential His direction is in the life of those who would join the chorus?

I’m trying to listen for the other voices these days.

I don’t always have to hear my own voice louder than the others in the choir. It has taken me many years to begin to grasp this lesson.

I haven’t mastered it yet.

Still, I’m loving the beautiful harmonies I’m starting to hear. It’s sounding better to my ear all the time.

I’m wondering if life is just practice for the day when we’re all a part of heaven’s choir.

I’ve missed too many rehearsals already.

How about you?

How wonderful and pleasant it is
    when brothers live together in harmony!
For harmony is as precious as the anointing oil
    that was poured over Aaron’s head,
    that ran down his beard
    and onto the border of his robe.
Harmony is as refreshing as the dew from Mount Hermon
    that falls on the mountains of Zion.
And there the Lord has pronounced his blessing,
    even life everlasting.
(Psalm 131 ~ NLT)

In the end we shall have had enough of cynicism, skepticism, and humbug, and we shall want to live more musically.
(Vincent van Gogh~Dutch artist~1853-1890)

And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.
(Colossians 3:14~ESV)

Resonance

March 16, 2016March 16, 2016 ~ Paul Phillips ~ Leave a comment

We’re on the same wavelength, aren’t we?

The man in front of me is a friend—a long-time friend. I always enjoy seeing his face as the front door of the music store opens. We share a love of music and the tools from which the music comes. I’ve watched his children grow, as he has mine.

Today, we talked about politics—a dangerous minefield in which to venture, if ever there was one. But, somehow his ire rose at the same time mine did; his anger was assuaged by the very same solutions I found to be comforting.

As if we were two strings vibrating on a musical instrument, we hit the same frequencies necessary to bring out the next tone in the chords of amity.

We were on the same wavelength.

It often happens. You’ve seen it. A conversation begins, and you’re drawn to a complete stranger immediately. It’s hard to explain—perhaps their vocal inflection—maybe the manner in which they consider each word before speaking—whatever it is, you’ve made a connection.

In the music world, we call it a sympathetic vibration.

It’s not always good.

Today, a young man brought in his banjo, exasperated because it wouldn’t stop ringing. Banjos do that normally too, you know—ring. It is what makes them sound like a banjo.

The problem is this one had a ring that wasn’t supposed to be there. Usually, when a musician tells me there’s a ring in his fretted instrument, I suspect a high fret which the strings bump against, causing an unwanted rattle of sorts, albeit a musical one. It wouldn’t be that simple this time.

I listened to his complaint and then took the beautiful instrument out of the case, striking the strings he spoke of. Sure enough, they had a strange overtone.

As I explored the strings a bit, I noticed a problem I could identify immediately. There actually was a string which buzzed on a fret all the time because of a string guide which sat too high. I could fix that easily, but I was more concerned with the other issue.

I explained to the young man (quite expertly, mind you) what the problem was.

There’s a sympathetic vibration in the instrument. Something else is vibrating when that string is plucked. It’s what all resonant materials want to do—vibrate with tones that are at the same wavelength.

This expert searched fruitlessly for nearly a quarter hour to find the source of the vibration. I finally gave up, suggesting a couple of general cures which might work. Might.

He had a question before he went.

Could you fix that one buzzing string for me? You know, the string guide thing?

A simple repair. It was done in three minutes.

I plucked the other strings one last time. I don’t know why I did it. I suppose hope springs eternal.

There was no more vibration. None. The strange ringing sound was completely gone. Really.

I stopped to think for a moment. Suddenly, it came to me!

The string which had been vibrating on the fret was at exactly the same frequency as the two other strings which were ringing. Exactly the same frequency. I had removed its capacity to buzz with my repair, so the rest of the problem disappeared.

I hope you’re not tired of my musical interpretations yet. You see, all the world resonates with music. Our Creator made it so.

Sympathetic vibrations are all around us. The four-wheel-drive monster truck that roars down the street in front of your house and rattles the windows, as well as vibrating the wall, demonstrates it. High-pitched sounds that break glass work on the same principle.

I want to tell you that my dogs, who howl loudly at the sound of an approaching ambulance or fire engine, exhibit the principle, but I think that might be something of a stretch.

Things which are alike, tend to exhibit the same characteristics as those similar objects around them.

Humans are not immune. We see it in every direction. As in the realm of music, it’s not always a beneficial thing.

Politicians vibrate with anger and name-calling, and their disciples soon resonate with the message of negativity and hatred.

Pastors embrace a radical belief and soon their adherents echo the tenets without consideration of the merits or demerits of the belief.

The bully on the playground selects a new victim and, within hours, the unfortunate soul is under attack from all sides.

All is not ugliness in the realm of resonance, however.

A properly tuned and maintained instrument, played well, resonates with sympathetic vibrations. The overtones complement the original melodies and chords, causing the listener to marvel at the beauty emanating from a single instrument wielded by a lone talent.

Master luthiers carve and shape, adding bracing here, sanding the surface there—all to increase the acceptance of good overtones and mute the presence of undesirable ones.

The whole instrument resonates beautifully with sympathetic vibrations.

I wonder if we have lost the true meaning of being sympathetic. We think sympathy is sadness, and the words that express our concern for that sadness. We believe that sympathy is an emotion to be dealt out at moments of great need and sorrow.

Did you know that sympathy is simply the state of being like-minded? It’s sharing what those around us experience—not as an onlooker, but as a participant.

The Apostle Paul begged for his readers to be sympathetic—like-minded. He wanted them to resonate with each other. (Philippians 2:1-2)

It is what folks in fellowship with each other do, almost automatically.

Our Creator, the Master Luthier of all luthiers, has made the whole of His creation to move in resonance with Him.

It is only as we change the tunings and introduce faults into the instrument that the overtones become louder than the fundamental notes. When the overtones are all that is heard, it is nothing more than mere vibration, a ringing in the ears of all listening.

Perhaps I need make no more application to the principle here.

It is likely these words have fallen on sympathetic ears, isn’t it?

What a beautiful thing it is, when His people live in harmony with each other.

Resonance.

I think when I was pretty young I got really into the tone of my instrument and I remember just playing one note for an hour to just kind of feel the resonance of the violin.
(Andrew Bird ~ American musician)

Finally, brethren, rejoice, be made complete, be comforted, be like-minded, live in peace; and the God of love and peace will be with you.
(2 Corinthians 13:11 ~ NASB)

Bells Ring

December 14, 2015 ~ Paul Phillips ~ 1 Comment

Nearly Christmas. All is well.

That’s what I’m supposed to write, isn’t it?

Am I the only one who isn’t happy?

It’s hard to write when one is gloomy. My mood matches the weather lately. Cloud-bound and gray.

The world around me is angry. Races are pitted against each other. The wealthy and the poor are caught up in a war of the classes. Friends battle with friends and brothers are angry with their brothers.

What’s not to be sad about?

I wonder. Would it be okay for me to just share a poem tonight? The writer of these words had reason to be sad. He had reason to be angry.

His wife had died from burns she received when her clothing caught fire. In putting out the fire, he himself had been burned badly.

The next Christmas, he wrote this: “How inexpressibly sad are all holidays.”

The year after, at Christmas, he penned these words, “‘A Merry Christmas,’ say the children, but that is no more for me.”

War raged in the countryside and his son was seriously injured in battle. At Christmas that year, he was silent.

Silent.

Ah! But the next Christmas–the next Christmas, these timeless verses came. And, with them–hope.

And, peace.

Christmas Bells

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Till, ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime,
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And in despair I bowed my head;
“There is no peace on earth,” I said;
“For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!”

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep;
“God is not dead; nor doth He sleep!
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men!”

He wrote the words exactly one hundred fifty-one years ago this Christmas. Death and war, pain and hatred, were the language of the day.

The intellect of the poet said exactly what mine echoes today.

What’s the use? Nothing changes.

But the heart–no, the very soul–of the believer knows. It knows that the Child who was born on that first Christmas day brought with Him a message of Hope and Peace. And Joy.

Joy that shall be to all people. All people.

I think I’ll listen to the bells.

All is well.

“And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.”
(Luke 2: 10,11,13,14 ~ KJV)

Christmas Bells by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

He's Taken Leave

Random wanderings with Paul Phillips

Harmony

For the Birds

All Together Now

Resonance

Bells Ring