91热爆

From Rev鈥檇 Richard Coles, cleric and broadcaster:

I think what I loved most about Sir George Martin was the way he raided the classical orchestra for the purposes of pop. Hearing Sgt Pepper for the first time was a revelation and an inspiration, so I was greatly blessed to make his acquaintance in the 1990s. He managed to be untouchably cool and yet unfailingly courteous to me, a gushing fan. We once went to the opera together, The Marriage of Figaro, at Covent Garden. Never have I so longed to bump into an enemy.

Over dinner afterwards I asked him what was the most enduring legacy of his work with the Beatles and he replied, 鈥渂ilateral hearing loss鈥�.

Thanks to all those hours in the studio, by the 90s George was pretty deaf, and he struggled to hear, let alone concentrate, on the opera. It鈥檚 a common fate for those of us who have been involved with bands, and I don鈥檛 know about you, Dave, but my ears now whistle like runaway trains. It could be worse: this week, Brian Johnson from ACDC has been ordered to stop touring immediately or lose his hearing for good.

But that night at the opera came to mind again on Wednesday when someone asked me, what is prayer?

I get asked this a lot, and it鈥檚 high on the agenda in Lent, but it is tricky: so I attempted an answer by saying, it鈥檚 like coping with hearing loss.

As I get deafer, I too have to concentrate harder, to try to locate in the hiss and whistling and static of my imperfect hearing, the pure note, the delicate texture, the high harmonics, that tell you something beautiful and gracious and profound is there, waiting to be heard.

It鈥檚 the same in prayer: somewhere in the endless noise and crackle of this world there鈥檚 a frequency unlike any other, waiting to be discovered. But we are too often deaf to it, or too easily distracted. If only we could learn to concentrate and tune in to its sublime music, waiting to delight us and heal us and bring us peace and joy.