Sarah Brightman, Eden

I suddenly cut into his monologue about modern opera. “You have to hear this artist. She is amazing.”

“Who is she?”

“Sarah Brightman. She’s the wife of Andrew Lloyd Webber. The guy who did Cats?”

“Never heard of her. Does she do opera?”

“Yeah – opera, pop, new age, broadway, you name it. She has the most beautiful voice you’ve ever heard. Listen.”

I popped the CD into the player and set to play track 10. “This is ‘Nella Fantasia,’” I said. “It’s one of the pieces from The Mission.”

“The movie with the priest?”

“Yeah.” We waited several seconds – just music so far. “You’re right. She has a great voice,” he said sarcastically.

“Just wait, man, there’s a long intro to this song.” Finally the voice came on, and I leaned back with my eyes closed as I listened. Nella Fantasia… In my fantasy…

I opened my eyes half-way through the piece. “Well? Whaddya think?”

“Not bad. Very pretty voice, I agree. Can I see the cover?” I passed the CD case over to him, and he flipped through the booklet. “She looks like a tired hooker,” was his comment. “Look at her – who would want to look like that? Especially in public?”

“OK, I grant you that. She doesn’t look particularly wholesome there. She’s a whole lot nicer looking in her pictures with Andrea Bocelli.”

“She sings with Andrea Bocelli? The Andrea Bocelli?”

“Yeah. Apparently she was the one who made him famous.”

“Cool. Show me another track.”

I tapped the buttons on the CD player till I reached track 4. “This is ‘Anytime, Anywhere.’” This one had a beat to it – strong bass and electronic drums and an other-worldly feel to it. “This one is probably my favorite.”

“When it first came on, I thought it was Bach.”

I nodded. “I would have said Mozart, but you’re probably right.”

“This one’s not as good – too much bass. It drowns her out.” I left it on anyway, savoring it. “Let me see the cover again,” he asked. After a moment: “It’s a shame, really.”

“What?”

“She has such a beautiful voice. She could really use it to glorify God, but… I mean, look at her.”

I couldn’t let this go. “You’re missing the whole point of music. Of course she glorifies God – she can’t help it. Her voice is like an angel’s, and that’s God’s work. No matter how hard she tries, she stands as a monument to the beauty of God’s creation.” Now I was starting to sound like a book.

“But look at her! She looks like a hooker!”

“So? Tchaikovsky was gay. Wagner was a womanizer and very anti-Christian. Look at Mozart, for crying out loud. For that matter, flutes and stringed instruments were created by descendents of Cain. All men are sinners. That doesn’t mean God can’t turn their music around for His glorification, does it?”

He looked back at the booklet skeptically. “I don’t know. She still looks like she’s on drugs or something. Let’s put Charlotte Church back on.”

“Fine – but only if you’ll play another game of chess with me.”

Related Links:
    Buy Eden at Amazon.com