Suppose a musician in an orchestra freely strikes a sour note. The conductor is competent, the music is correctly scored and easy to play, but the musician still exercises his freedom by introducing a discord which immediately passes out into space. The director can do one of two things: he can either order the selection to be replayed, or he can ignore the discord. Fundamentally, it makes no difference which he does, for that false note is traveling out into space at the rate of more than a thousand feet per second; and as long as time endures, there will be discord in the universe.
Is there any way to restore harmony to the world? It can be done only by something coming in from eternity and stopping the note in its wild flight. But will it still be a false note? The harmony can be destroyed on one condition only. If that note is made the first note in a new melody, then it will become harmonious. -- Archbishop Fulton Sheen
The Cross is in sight. We can see its shadow over the edge of the hill. We can begin to hear the din of the crowds, crying for blood. We can feel the hopelessness of a humanity sunken down deep in its own mess. We can hear a future of gunshots and bombs and orphans crying and applause as leader after leader in an endless procession of misery orders the killing of innocents. We drown in it; will it ever end? It's the sound of screaming and someone pounding on a piano, notes flying all over the place, discord and pain.
It is not time for the Resurrection yet. We who know the end of the story, who've already flipped to the back of the book, must be patient. To get to the Resurrection, we know we must first go through the blood and fire. To hear that first, quiet, gentle note, slipping by unnoticed, that first note which begins the new song: Hope.
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