The year is 1802. The orchestra and the singers are rehearsing an opera. The young conductor is gesturing wildly and every singer, orchestra player focuses his attention on him. They seem to be having difficulty interpreting what he wants; his gestures are no longer comprehensible to them. The violinists exchange glances, and so do the other musicians. What does the conductor want? Is this simply another expression of his idiosyncrasies or is there something wrong?
The music deteriorates into a cacophony of sounds. The notes fly wildly around the room and then settle into silence. Gradually, the musicians begin to realize. The conductor is deaf and he is trying to conceal his deafness.
The musicians stare at their instruments. They shift awkwardly in their chairs. They evade his eyes. The conductor looks at them and for the first time, he knows that they know. He races out of the opera hall. He runs and runs and runs. He reaches home, throws himself on the sofa and sobs. Ludwig van Beethoven-- virtuoso pianist, composer, and conductor-- finally come to realize that he is no longer able to hide his deafness from the world.
Distressing? No! Agonizing? Yes! Listen to these lines written to a friend:
... your Beethoven is ... at odds with nature and the Creator, abusing the latter for leaving his creatures vulnerable to the slightest accident... My greatest faculty, my hearing, is greatly deteriorated.
And to another friend:
How can I, a musician, say to people "I am deaf!" I shall, if I can, defy this fate, even though there will be times when I shall be the unhappiest of God's creatures! ...I live only in music...
But he could not defy his fate. The hearing loss was progressive until in the last ten years of his life he was totally deaf.
But what happened? Unable to play any instrument, the man withdrew more and more into the work of composing. And then something happened. He began speaking a different musical language! His music deepened. And grew even greater. His melodies and orchestration were of such unprecedented power and beauty that they astonished even the most hardened listeners. Only his music achieved the unique combination of primal force and spiritual elevation that remains legendary to this day. Whether his music was for solo piano or violin sonatas or string quartets or opera, the same qualities prevailed. Always profound, always inspiring, his music defined the limits of human expressiveness in sound.
His greatest works were written in the last 25 years of his life after his deafness had set in--works such as his charming and exuberant Symphony No. 2, Fur Elise, Piano Sonata No. 8 "Pathetique", the Ninth Symphony (Choral), his Fifth Symphony which takes fate by the throat and his Sixth (Pastoral) which transports one to a serene countryside.
The man in his world of silence could now hear.
There is also another story of a man named Samson. He was Arnold Schwarzenegger c. 1070 BC. But gifted with physical strength he turned away from the things of God and followed the path of instant gratification. Until one day God allowed him to lose his sight. And in the midst of his blindness, he began to see. [Judges 13-16]
Beethoven. Samson. What marked these two?
Perhaps only this. That they stopped being “at odds with the Creator” and allowed their difficult circumstances to become new lenses through which they could see themselves and others and what God was asking of them.
But that's a choice. Remember? “Two men behind bars—one saw the mud, the other the stars?” And stars are never visible except in the dark.
To any man, hearing loss is a severe trial. But to a musician, it is devastating. Sometimes God takes away our “hearing”—meaning, the most precious thing to us.
Perhaps it boils down to an understanding of the difference between life and living. One man said it like this. Your living is determined not so much by what life brings as by the attitude you bring to life; not so much by what happens to you as by the way you look at what God is allowing to happen.
Much later in life, this is what Beethoven wrote:
Nothing higher exists than to approach God more than others and from that to extend His glory among humanity.
Ultimately hearing and seeing are functions of the heart.