The Unsophisticated and the Simple Moments

Nasidman Island is just a few kilometers off the shores of the small town of Ajuy in the province of Iloilo. In the mid-90s, the small island had no redeeming feature except for the creamy sand beaches, gently lapping sea, and serene landscape. There was no electricity on that island. There was no potable water also. Drinking and even bathing water had to be brought from the town on the mainland. It was on this island that the churches in Iloilo and Bacolod decided to have their youth camp – of all places. The sweltering summer season was at its height when we went there. I promptly fell sick a day after we got to the island. Some pestilential virus left me weak and cranky. There was no electricity nor water. The heat was just too much. I was also battling with a virus. I couldn’t wait until the camp was over. I hated that place. I was miserable.

Except one time, at dusk we worshipped.

The sun was just setting; the red glow from the horizon was like dying coal. There were no microphones, no electric musical instruments, just the pure voices of the young people. We were singing a capella. I was communing with God. Rather, I was complaining to God. “Why am I here?” I asked God. This was not some angst-driven existential question I was asking, mind you. I was simply bemoaning the fact that I could have been comfortably sitting in the office of the church, trying to do His will while magnanimously enduring the quiet hum of the air conditioner, instead of being hot, sick, and miserable.

Then all of a sudden, from somewhere from darkness came the tentative and gentle music from a recorder. The notes were simple and unsophisticated, but it was absolutely beautiful. It was a love song, it was a lament. It was both a celebration and mourning. It was pure notes of laughter; it was crystalline drops of tears. It was a dirge; it was a love song. While that recorder rose above the voices of the kids, something began to take place. Something began to happen to this unlikely place. It became beautiful. The heat, the sharp stones, and the uncomfortable bed didn’t sound or feel as bad anymore. I was lifted up from the wretched place and truly worshipped the Lord. I vowed then to learn to play the recorder if only to recapture that moment when the Lord made Himself manifest. I, who had no musical talent whatsoever, vowed I would learn to play the recorder. And so, as soon as I could afford it, I got one, taught myself to play the recorder to go back to that place when God was near.

Did the recorder really sound that beautiful? Or, would it have sounded the way it did if there were amplified music, and sound systems were working? I guess no one would have noticed it, nor appreciated it. And yet, it is precisely because and not from the utter lack of sophistication that it is beautiful.

We have always craved for the spectacular. The vividness of its beauty, the genius of thought, and the flowing, graceful movements are something we look for. These allow us to be transported somewhere transcendent. These brilliant splashes of color transform our mundane world into something both magical and enchanting. And so we treasure these special times. But life is not a series of intense delights. More often, we live ordinary lives. Life is simple – mundane – unspectacular. We have our routines. We have our rhythms. We think that the muted colors of the ordinary do not cause us to celebrate. But to hear the subtle rhythms of simplicity is as magical as starbursts of luminosity. The ordinary can bring joy. Laughter, work, commuting, doing your groceries, these commonplace things – simple, regular activities – these too can be avenues for the mystical, for the uplifting. These can be occasions for a deeper understanding of self, or our soul, of He who is above ordinary.

Let us learn to be fluent in the subdued language and whisperings of our ordinary life, of the path of simplicity – for at the very heart of it, at its core, when all is stripped and all is laid bare, we find the most brilliant of all: Him.