Dear Editor,
Artists like our insufficiently honoured Stanley Greaves tell us that juxtaposition of objects or ideas can often spark off all kinds of exciting new ideas. Such a juxtaposition took place for me recently as I listened enthralled by the performances of young musicians at the now-annual concert of the Tina Insanally Foundation. The children are drawn from various orphanages and trained by volunteer musicians who seek to bring out whatever latent musical talent each child has.
Just to see the joy and pride on the children’s faces as they took the stage was the best gift the audience could ever have received. We sat there—the well-heeled of Georgetown—totally captivated by the energy, the passion, the joy—and, yes, the talent—of these youngsters.
So what about the juxtaposition I began with? That display of untapped potential in our “underprivileged” children situated itself in my mind alongside a definition I’d read the same afternoon on the difference between religion and spirituality: religion, the writer, said, puts creed above deed, while spirituality puts deed above creed.
There we were, on a Sunday evening, watching forty or so orphans show off their talents with unselfconscious exuberance in a concert that was made possible by the generosity of donors and the dedicated efforts of volunteer teachers and organisers.
That same Sunday, folk had dutifully gone to their places of worship and performed their usual acts of worship. Creed or deed? Which of the two activities more effectively communicates the love of God to the needy, I asked myself.
I know what answer I gave to my own question, and I leave you to answer the question for yourself. Last night at the Theatre Guild we witnessed kids discovering that they have talent, discovering that disciplined effort will hone that talent, discovering that they can give joy to others.
We saw their radiant faces as they danced and flounced to “Happy Feet”, making even the elderly in the audience tap their feet and smile in response. Those children will never forget that evening, and I’m thinking that the miracle I witnessed there was of more value than the sum total of all the acts of worship in all our places of worship throughout the country.
Jesus told a story that ended with this line: “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’”
Now there’s a thought for Christmas! And beyond.
Yours faithfully,
Joyce Jonas
