Pearls Before Swine

My brother-in-law, Nate, told me about a really interesting article that just ran in the Washington Post a few weeks ago. It's called "Pearls Before Breakfast" and you can read it for yourself here. It's kind of long, but I really think well worth the read.

The paper conducted a little experiment. What would happen, if one of the world's great violinists performs incognito in a metro station before a traveling rush-hour audience of 1,000-odd people? Would anyone stop and listen, recognizing their talent? How much money would they make? Would mass pandemonium ensue if a mob of people clogs up the rush hour traffic, enthralled with the beauty of the scene?

So, they arranged for Joshua Bell to perform, a former child prodigy who is literally one of the world's greatest violin players. The 39 year-old typically plays to sold-out music halls where the cheap tickets go for $100. Not only did Mr. Bell agree to the venture, but he brought with him his own Stradivari, an original from 1713 that is easily worth $3.5 million.

What do you think happened? In the 45 minutes that he played in L'Enfant Plaza, this man who typically makes $1,000/minute to standing-room-only crowds pulled in $32.17 and only 7 people stopped to listen to his brilliant musicianship for more than a minute. Thousands of people were in the presence of genius, given the opportunity to enjoy a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and less than 1% stepped away from their meeting schedules, cell phone calls, and iPods to enjoy it.

I was flabbergasted . . . for a few seconds.

Then I realized that I do it all the time, every day, several times a day, consistently. How often am I in the presence of magnificent sunsets, the melodious songs of birds, and the faces of babies and children who are uniquely created for a moment in time, never before experienced or to be experienced again? How often am I in the presence of the genius of our Creator, the brilliance of our beloved Father, and I simply walk past it, ignore it, or even complain about it? I'm no different than the thousands who walked right past the Maestro in the Metro.

My prayer from the past few days and weeks continues . . . I give the Holy Spirit permission, no, I'm asking Him to please interrupt me. Interrupt my day, my conversations, my schedule, my phone calls, my eating habits, my sleep . . . interrupt as much as He likes to make me aware of His presence, aware of the masterpieces that He's creating each and every day to be enjoyed be each and every one of us.

His music is playing. Take the time to soak it in.