September 7, 2018
“I’ve never even seen these notes before!” I was showing my sheet music to our drummer, pointing out the four hash marks below the bass staff. The string bass only goes one hash mark below the staff, a low E. I had to count spaces and lines, in my mind saying, “E-D-C-B-A-G-F.” Transposing them up an octave on the fly as the band is playing was a challenge I was only partly able to meet. By the end of rehearsal, my mind was as tired as my fingers, and neither was very nimble to begin with.
As anyone who has ever used a dog whistle knows, there are pitches higher than the human ear can hear. And there are others lower than our brains can discern. The monotonal sounds of electrified instrumentation in so much of pop music has lost the pitches and timbres of the different orchestral instruments which are part of what make music so beautiful. I love the throaty organic rumble of the string bass, the mellow cooing of the cello, the sweetness of the violins and flutes. The ringing brass, the reedy oboe and the woody bassoon all work together in a confluence of sound and rhythm that can stiffen courage or melt the heart.
If the human ear can detect such variety in the pitches we are able to hear, I wonder what the heavenly choir and orchestra will sound like when we hear the full register of the music of the universe, when saints and angels, stars and galaxies join the chorus of praise to the LORD, God Almighty. That is a concert I don’t want to miss! In the meantime, I’m getting warmed up, learning notes my instrument cannot play, preparing for the day when the limitations have vanished and the full crescendo of worship begins to swell. What a day that will be! Thank you, Lord, for the whispers we hear now that merely foreshadow what is yet to come. I’ve never seen those notes, either, but I’ll bet they are glorious!
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