You pay good money for a front row seat and wait expectantly for the concert to begin. Finally, the maestro takes his place on the small stage just a few feet from where you sit, and begins to play. But “play” is too trivial a word for what he does. He makes music. No, he is evoking heaven; he is weaving paradise from the strings of his guitar. Fingers can’t do what his fingers are doing. You know, because you’ve tried. No mere box of wood could possibly mold the celestial sounds you hear. You forget time and place and yourself in the sublime artistry that engulfs you. Only when the song ends do you return to earth, to the small recital hall, to yourself.
During the artist’s interview after the third song, you hear some of the story behind the magic. Clearly, the guitarist is gifted. He was born with something not given to everyone. A gift he has shaped and polished through practice–hours every day–for weeks, months, years, decades. When his personal life was falling apart, still he played. When his career appeared to be over, he played on. He would not let it alone. It would not let him alone.
He has poured his entire life into his art. Music was the vehicle of his joy. It was the lifeline through the dark times, through the night of his soul. His passion for his music has focused his life, polished his gift and given him, and his admirers, immense satisfaction.
I’ve talked about a male guitarist. I could have talked about a woman, about a cello player or a watercolor artist or a surgeon or a cabinet maker or teacher. What I’m really talking about is sweet, good passion. The kind of passion that shapes the lives and art, science, scholarship and service that command our admiration.
Passion for God
Jesus talked about it in a pair of parables (Matthew 13). A dealer in gems found a superlative pearl, more lustrous and perfectly shaped than any he had ever seen. He sold all his other pearls and gems. He sold his house. His horse. Everything.
And bought the pearl.
And was very satisfied.
Another man was plowing a rented field. His plow unearthed a small cask filled with treasure. He carefully reburied it. Hurried home and began selling everything. His friends thought he was crazy. His family was distraught. Finally, he scraped together enough money to buy the rock-strewn field and the rights to everything in it. He then went and dug up the treasure. And he was very satisfied.
Passion moves us away from “regular” life. Passion narrows our lives–and deepens and enriches them. Passion can lead us to do crazy things like: Practice for hours every day or sell our house. Or take care of dying lepers on the streets of Calcutta. Or teach eighth graders for twenty years. Or remain faithful in a difficult marriage. Or find joy in Jesus when everything in our visible environment demands tears or outrage.
Passions that Satisfy
One of the central realities of godly passion, is that when we allow it to take over our lives, it brings profound satisfaction. We find that when we have spent everything . . . we are content.
The seed of passion is a gift–the gift of music or craftsmanship or compassion or faith. We are called to cultivate the seed God has planted in us. We cultivate passion through focus and practice. Dedicated time with God will fuel our devotion to him and shape us until that the seed of passion he has created in us becomes our magnificent obsession.
Don’t settle for bland or scattered living. Seek to discover the gift God has planted in you. Then focus, practice, pray, dream, work, study to turn your passion into a living image of the glory of God.
At the time this article was written, John McLarty was pastor of a Seventh-day Adventist church in the Northwest.
