I just have got to go back to that harmony thing, you know, “your friend
sings the harmony to the song of your heart.” There is too much at stake and
too much to be learned. We can’t afford to under stress it.
Up for a little reading? Here’s the story of Creation as found in the
Silmarillion, one of Tolkien’s pearl works.
The truth illustrated in this text is sublime. Ilúvatar, a rough
equivalent of God, unfolds his plan to his divine court. Finished revealing, he
instructs the angels to sing and as they do, the Lord begins blending the
voices of the heavenly choir into one perfect melody. But Melkor – an image of
Satan – decided that he wanted to create his own melody and began to sing in
discord.
You know, every friend and every possible friend will have things that
you like and other things that just rub you wrong. The problem is when we allow
ourselves to think that what displeases us is necessarily bad.
Melkor created confusion, sowed doubt as he relentlessly sang out of
tune. But Ilúvatar, as Tolkien so masterfully describes, was not disheartened.
Rather he created a new song, even more beautiful than the first, which
enveloped the notes of the rebellion. As hard as Melkor tried, he only
succeeded in cooperating with the orchestra of the Creator.
Get the drift? A song: normal friendship. Harmony and correct chords:
the things you have in common or like in another. The discord and counter
melody: that which is different or less likable in others. And the new song that
swallows both like and unlike is that deeper friendship, which puts everything
into a new perspective. And the beauty of the analogy is that through this one
great symphony, things were created. In a relationship with someone, where
friendship coordinates our differences, not only do we learn to put up with each other, but greater
things are born through our working together.
Ever seen Seabiscuit? A great movie. My favorite scene is when the horse and rider are
reunited after both were injured. They finally ride together again and it’s the last race. In that same
race on another mount is the jockey who had replaced the protagonist while he
was injured. Naturally the latter had pretty hard feelings towards the former;
although they had been good friends, he felt as if that friendship was betrayed
when the other had ridden his horse, Seabiscuit. The pistol fires and off they
run, but it doesn’t look good for our two favored underdogs: both horse and
rider fall back slowly, until they are a good distance behind the others.
Seabiscuit had a peculiar trait: he needed to see the competition in the
face in order to motivate himself, and the others were just too far ahead.
Suddenly, up ahead, one of the riders ahead slows down. It was Georgie,
the old friend and recent “rival”. He pulled up alongside his friend, horse
next to horse, and let Seabiscuit look his mount in the eye. Noticing the
change in the horse, Georgie had no time to say more than: “Have a nice ride,
Johnny”. And off rode his friend to victory. That scene always makes me cry.
That’s friendship.
I know my friend. I know his horse. I know what he needs. I hear his song. And
I give him what he needs, I sing that harmony, and great victories are born.
By David Yep
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