Why do we like music?  There are many reasons, of course, but one is likely that it takes us into places we would (could) not otherwise go, places of ethereality, transcendence, and imagination which we do not experience in the daily humdrum of our lives.  Music makes us weep, it makes us swoon, it makes us leap for joy.  It opens windows, windows into worlds we did not see.  Music reminds us of the limitlessness of the universe.
     For many, music makes us think of God.  In his biography of Steve Jobs, the founder of Apple Computer, author Walter Isaacson recounts an encounter between Jobs and the great cellist Yo Yo Ma.  Ma had come to Jobs's home to play, having been unable, due to other commitments, to play at Jobs's wedding a few years earlier.  He played a piece by Johann Sebastian Bach.  According to Isaacson, Jobs listened with tears in his eyes, and told Ma, "You playing is the best argument I've ever heard for the existence of God, because I really don't believe a human alone could do this."
     Jobs's response was perceptive.  We rightly laud artistic talent and creativity, yet we do them, and ourselves, a disservice if we suppose they exist solely through material accident or coalescence.  Can dust and plasma really birth personality and imagination?