Now that I have returned from my trip West (more on that later), I want to recognize another musician whose birthday we missed earlier this month:  George Frideric Handel.  Born in Germany, Handel spent most of his life in London.  He is perhaps most famous for his stirring religious oratorio, Messiah, a glorious paean to the salvific love of God.  Another of Handel's most well known works is his Water Music, for which my wife and I have a special spot in our hearts:  it was the processional music at our wedding.
     As I listened to Messiah's "Hallelujah Chorus" recently, I reflected, again, on its power, spiritual as well as political.  As the story goes, when then British king George II heard its opening strains, he stood up.  In an era when people sought to emulate, out of respect, what their king did, the rest of the audience stood up, too.
     Perhaps the king stood out of reverence, perhaps not.  Either way, a tradition was established.  To this day, even the most hardened unbelievers will, if they attend a performance of Messiah, stand up for the Hallelujah Chorus.
     This notwithstanding, however, when we review the lengthy span of biblical history which Messiah presents, we find new ways to consider the depth of God's purpose in creation. As Handel understood very well, though God may appear to be hidden and unknown, he in fact has been working in the world since its beginning.  He's not a deistic entity.  Transcendent in essence, yes, God is nonetheless thoroughly immanent, constantly speaking into our life experience.
     Only if, however, as Handel, quoting words from the fortieth chapter of Isaiah, notes, we level the mountains and smooth the valleys of our hearts to listen.
     We will not hear otherwise.