John once asked me to do some “ruffles and flourishes” on a hymn. That means to add what amounts to child-like graffiti to a “normal” hymn. Artists love to whip up swirls and embellishments that buzz the senses. Sometimes, you might get goosebumps. Your attention gets enraptured, and it seems like you get a glimpse of the divine. But divine presence never disappears. We just seem to have some sort of amnesia that seems to forget the omnipresence of God. God has no off switch.

Consider the first line of our anthem. “O Thou, the central orb of righteous love, pure beam of the most high, eternal light of this our wintry world, thy radiance bright awakes new joy in faith, hope soars above.” Combined with Wood’s magnificent music, the tones soar into the rafters and rattle the bowels of the church. Did you catch that? Did you see how I “ruffled” those words? They animate mundane objects with outlandish images like cartoonish angels swinging in the rafters and the church building itself belly laughing.

When we kid around the “on switch” briefly illuminates the apparition of divine presence. But again, God never disappears. This hide-and-seek illusion is necessary for our wavering attention spans. How apropos. Illusion comes from iludere which means “play.” It’s like when babies get excited to play peekaboo. They “forget” when you cover your eyes, and it’s a big, tickling surprise when you remove your hands. We have this same innocent fluttering mechanism built into us. God makes an “appearance” in lofty things; but the joke is on those who don’t know that God never disappears! But without the illusion of “on-off,” the surprise would be spoiled. That’s no fun.  

Creation is littered with spattered stars, snarly vegetation, splotchy skies with wisps of cotton, and a planet populated by weird creatures, including humans! We live in a cartoon. There’s so much enchantment everywhere, but our minds “normalize” everything. We’re turned off, but God is in the off switch too. That’s why it’s possible to do things with one hand tied behind your back. But life is much more vivid when you stay “on.” Good art and music-making turn the switch on. Haven’t you ever been turned on? We get whisked away from a slack-jawed malaise with amazing art. Unfortunately, it often takes tragedy to snap someone out of a zombie state. I prefer a ruffle and a flourish, or to live with the miracle of every moment, each day! I like to keep my on switch illuminated as much as I can.

I loved Mr. Rogers Neighborhood as a child. In one episode, the cameras drew back, and he showed us behind the scenes. We saw the jazz group, the cameramen, and the miniature layout of the neighborhood. I always wondered why he didn’t have a bedroom. After that episode I learned it wasn’t his real house. We got a glimpse of the magic. Like Mr. Rogers’ neighborhood, when the cameras pull back on your life, and you see how it works, you’ll wonder why you ever got turned off in the first place. The divine never turns off but loves surprise. Ruffles and flourishes are imaginative ways to turn us on, and to snatch us up to the miracle of the moment. Behind the scenes the magic is always happening. We get in front of it by “normalizing” everything. After a ruffle, the cameras zoom back in, and our myopia once again lulls us into complacency. But that’s OK. That makes for a good and surprising game of peekaboo. Soli Deo Gloria!