Yesterday I was out in our little backyard trying to learn how to make short videos on my camera (to use on my blog). I was shooting tomato plants, flowers, odd patches of uninteresting gravel and unrelated leaves - and all the while mumbling little comments that meant nothing, unless trying to learn something new is meaningful in itself.
Anyway I wound up the session with the realization that I would never be a Clint Eastwood or a Mike Nichols and headed inside to put it on the computer and see if I could edit it into something coherent, if not significant. I wrestled it onto my laptop and sat back to enjoy my masterpiece.
As the video unfolded I liked a few things, hated a few others and wondered at the skill of those who did a good job of such matters. Gradually, however, I became aware of something the camera picked up that I had not been aware of at all. A happy little bird was singing clearly, invisibly an beautifully throughout the entire film. It was a lovely moment.
I had never even heard a note. Therein lies a message.
Grace is the theologian's name for it.