In a grand concert hall, an orchestra gathered to perform a long-awaited masterpiece. Each musician carried a treasured study guide—a collection of notes, instructions, and insights passed down from earlier performances. The guide preserved the foundational melodies and themes crafted by the great Composer. The musicians had practiced diligently, devoting countless hours to perfect their parts for this extraordinary moment.
At the front of the stage stood the Conductor, affectionately called "the Guide" by the musicians. The Conductor, entrusted with the Composer’s vision, lifted His hands, and the hall fell silent. His gestures, fluid and purposeful, seemed to draw the music from the depths of the musicians’ hearts. With every movement, He shaped the performance, weaving harmonies that flowed like a living stream.
As the music began, some musicians kept their eyes fixed on their study guides, following the notes exactly as written. When the Conductor introduced a change—a quickened tempo, a subtle pause—they faltered. “This isn’t in my guide,” they murmured, their notes stiff and out of sync.
Others debated among themselves. “If we interpret the guide correctly, we’ll play perfectly,” they insisted. But as their attention lingered on the pages, they missed the Conductor’s cues, and their music grew disconnected.
The Helpers moved quietly among them, tuning strings, adjusting reeds, and whispering, “Watch the Guide. The study guide has brought you here, but now you must trust His hands.”
Some lifted their eyes, hesitant at first. As they followed the Conductor’s movements, their playing softened and transformed. The music grew vibrant, alive with nuance they had never imagined. The rigid notes became a melody that seemed to breathe.
Still, others clung tightly to their study guides. “The guide is flawless,” they argued. “If we follow it exactly, we cannot fail.” But their playing felt heavy, bound to the page, and out of step with the Conductor.
The Conductor, aware of every sound, continued to lead, His gestures patient and unshaken. Even the discordant notes seemed to find their place, woven into the greater harmony. Yet those who followed Him closely discovered something extraordinary. Their music transcended the written notes, resonating with a beauty that filled the hall and stirred the hearts of all who listened.
When the final note sounded, the hall fell silent, and the musicians looked to the Conductor. His hands, now still, rested at His sides. In their hearts, some wondered: Was the guide ever enough, or had it always been the Conductor who brought the music to life?
Closing Remark:
*"The story ends with a question: Was the guide ever enough, or had it always been the Conductor who brought the music to life? Take time to reflect on this.
I’ll share more thoughts and lessons from this parable soon, but for now, let the question linger. I’d love to hear what comes to your heart and mind as you ponder this story."*
December 25th, and each week after, 1 of 23 lessons will be posted. Each lesson will discuss a small part of the parable, and hopefully, you will see the book of John more vividly.
As a composer for orchestra, I love this parable!