Last week, at a small music venue, I heard two men playing acoustic guitar. Dave, by far the elder, was center-stage almost the whole evening. Ted, by far the younger and the more talented, stood in the background, accompanying unobtrusively, taking Dave’s lead, and smiling. I started to wonder why Ted was even on stage. Maybe he was shy and just learning to play in front of an audience? Then, after about five songs, Dave stepped back from his mic and nodded to Ted. Ted stepped forward and played. I’ve never seen or heard anything like it. He played with his whole body, as if the guitar were part of him, eyes closed, throwing caution to the wind. The audience was stunned, riveted. Then, after too-few minutes, he stepped back again and resumed his quiet, smiling accompaniment. That happened a few more times during the evening, but mostly Dave played and sang while Ted watched and followed and smiled. Toward the end of the evening, while Dave was tuning his guitar, Ted stepped up to the mic and asked us to give Dave a big round of applause. Afterward, I had a chance to chat with Ted about his music. It seems he does concerts all over the world. When I asked why he hadn’t played more that evening, he just smiled and said, “Dave is a dear friend. I love playing with him.”
Here I am, days later, sipping my morning coffee and still pondering Ted. He wasn’t trying to shine. He was just happy that Dave and the music were shining. In fact, he didn’t seem to be thinking about himself much at all. Maybe that is why he did shine—the way love always shines.
“True gospel-humility means I stop connecting every experience, every conversation, with myself. In fact, I stop thinking about myself. The freedom of self-forgetfulness. The blessed rest that only self-forgetfulness brings.” Timothy Keller
“Love . . . is not anxious to impress nor does it cherish inflated ideas of its own importance.” I Cor. 13:4