| For a few weeks, I
dedicated one inch of space at the bottom of this
page to promote the Eighth Annual Concert For Life
performed here at Saint Paul’s by Matt Wessel and a
cohort of his musical family and friends. This
sacrifice on my part served as embarrassingly meager
payment for the gift that Matt’s music is to me. In the beginning, Matt’s music flowed from the depths of a heart broken by the untimely illness and passing of his dad. As time passed and Matt’s music continued to evolve, melodies and lyrics told tales of hope renewed, life embraced and life lived to the full. As soon as it became available, I purchased Matt’s first CD which found a permanent home in my car. As I listened and marveled at the depth of this very young man’s messages, I learned the words of every song. At Matt’s second concert, I sang most of the songs quietly to myself as he performed. My mother enjoyed Matt’s second concert with me that day. While she smiled at the young man whose fingers danced along the keyboard with amazing grace, a chill overwhelmed me as I acknowledged the depth of faith and the undaunted hope that inspired Matt’s compositions. In this world’s view, Matt’s father’s death from cancer was a horrific tragedy that changed his family’s life forever. In this world’s view, Matt, his mom and brothers and sisters had every right to be angry, to mourn and to be angry again. In God’s view, Matt’s dad passed from this life into eternal life at just the right moment in time. Indeed, Matt’s dad is alive in God’s view, enjoying the best of his life as he cares for his family from afar and prepares for their reunion one day. Somehow, through Matt’s music and the great faith and hope that inspire him, Matt moved from this world’s view to God’s view in very short order. The timing of this transition could not have been better for me. > Not long after that second concert, my sisters and I discovered that our mom would make her own journey through cancer to eternal life. Though our mom seemed perfectly content with God’s view of things, the path that lead to her passing was a bit more difficult for her children. As I drove to visit my mom each day, it was Matt’s music that strengthened my faith and renewed my hope along the way. I arrived each day with a smile for my mother because the fruits of Matt’s broken heart uplifted my own. Though it pained me to watch my mom’s decline, I found myself able to rejoice with her every day of this journey. The day after my mom passed away, the good deacon ran into Matt here at Saint Paul’s. Mike explained to Matt that I was reluctant to impose, but that I would be forever grateful if he would sing at my mom’s wake or funeral. In spite of his heavy work schedule, Matt came by to sing God’s Chosen One at my mom’s wake service. Matt added May the Lord at the end of the service when he realized that the Irish Blessing was among my mom’s favorite prayers. So it is that I attend the Concert For Life each year –to enjoy Matt’s music, to relive my mom’s journey home and to give thanks for the faith and hope that carried each of us along the way. This year, I arrived with my ticket in hand, particularly hungry for a strengthened faith and renewed hope in the things to come. I arrived with > a seemingly unquenchable thirst for the peace that fills us when our faith is strong and our hope is properly placed. The tough times I encountered this past Lent were not completely behind me, and some lingering concerns threatened my typically joyful interior. Greeting and situating my family and friends distracted me from this unrest for a bit. Nonetheless, when the concert began I felt like a child waiting for a gift that she knew she should not hope for because it was impossible to find. Unlike that often disappointed child, I received far more than I thought possible when Matt played and the vocalists sang, “Lord, put your hands on my heart.” This image overwhelmed me and inspired me. It warmed me and filled me up. My hunger and thirst disappeared as I imagined God’s hands holding onto my aching heart. The strengthened faith and renewed hope, the unmistakable peace and familiar joy insisted that this was not my imagination at all. For what remained of the concert, I wondered where that image came from. How did Matt come to imagine God’s hands holding any of our hearts? I found the answer as I read today’s gospel (John 14:1-12) in preparation for this writing. The gospel opens as Jesus offers encouragement to his disciples: “Do not let your hearts be troubled…” Our dear Lord goes on to explain why his followers have nothing to fear for where Jesus is going, we will all follow one day. It seems to me that Matt has taken Jesus at his word through thick and thin. Matt is bold enough and faithful enough and hopeful enough to sing, “Lord, put your hands on my heart,” because he knows this is precisely what God does when our hearts are in danger of breaking in two. The truth is that I am a little annoyed with myself for losing sight of this image for a while. I am also as pleased as can be that God’s embrace is not dependent upon my vision, but upon my need. |
| mattwesselmusic.com |
| letters (read what people are saying about my music) SOMETHING TO THINK ABOUT by mary penich | april, 2008 |