In my University days, I had a very religious friend, the type that talks about God with such reverence, they always look bent over from bowing in awe.
I was fascinated by her and the wise simplicity in her relationship with God.
One day she invited me to her church, as they were having a music retreat where many singers and choirs were visiting to worship God through music. Knowing that I liked music, she felt it was a way to get me out of the Catholic Church to her church. It worked. I found myself sitting in the auditorium, judging myself for being there in the first place.
Then the music started. All types of melodies, clapping and dancing. Singer after singer, choir after choir, each song carried a powerful message, but some connected so deeply, I broke down in tears or burst out into cheerful dancing.
At the end of the show, as we walked back to our hostels, we chatted about each act and she said, “I noticed some of those songs went straight into you and I was marveled at what I saw”. I explained that I don’t know what happened, but some of those songs opened doors to memories I thought were forgotten and let them out. I felt free. She then said something quite profound. She said, “What you would have noticed is that it was not the best voices that necessarily connected, no, those that really connected did not sing to show us how melodious their voices were, they sang as a channel to connect God to us. They did not sing the song, they were the song. When people choose to allow God work through them, even with modest talents, they will sieze the hearts of Kings.” I smiled and thanked her for recognising my kingship. In our usual way we burst into laughter and started planning on getting good seats in class the next day.
I stumbled upon a quote that summarised the words of my friend succinctly –
“If words come out of the heart, they will enter the heart, but if they come from the tongue, they will not pass beyond the ears.” – Al-Suhrawardi (Essential Sufi)
What is pure gets to our core.
What is impure stops at the door.
– Osasu Oviawe