Look to God and Live… Joyfully!

I recently heard a story that I’d never heard before. On December 6, 1842 Robert Schumann was set to debut his much-anticipated Piano Quintet in E-flat major. The work was dedicated to his much beloved wife, acclaimed musician Clara Schumann, and she was to play the complex piece at its introduction. Unfortunately, Clara fell ill and wasn’t able to perform that evening and the debut would have to wait. As luck would have it, however, another great musician – Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy – was in the room that evening and offered to play in Clara’s stead. Sightreading what he later termed a “fiendish piano part,” Mendelssohn put aside his ego in order to help another musician succeed. He afterwards gave some tips to Schumann that supposedly improved the work, all without seeking credit. (Disclaimer: I am a big Schumann fan and probably the leader of the Mendelssohn fan club, so any fangirling you pick up here is probably legit.)

There are some extra behind-the-scenes elements with this story that make it even more fascinating to me.

Robert Schumann struggled with mental illness for most of his short life. His symptoms suggest bipolar disorder, potentially combined with other serious neurologic-affecting factors. His erratic mood swings were widely known and well-documented and they placed a severe burden on his family, work, and relationships. Meanwhile, Felix Mendelssohn was a seemingly endless font of energy. He was a super-genius who regularly successfully undertook a variety of major projects simultaneously, all while continuing to compose his great works of music. His personality was frequently intense, and he could be temperamental when crossed, but generally he was known to be on an emotional even-keel. He was gifted in languages and lauded for his work in classical literature, yet it was music that he primarily focused on, having been performing since the age of nine and writing serious compositions from the age of twelve. Goethe hailed him as a prodigy, comparing him favorably to Mozart. Surely a man like Felix Mendelssohn would have little patience for the mentally unwell and less popular Robert Schumann.

Mendelssohn, however, had never only focused on his own success. He valued the work of fellow composers, and had helped restore the musical popularity of Bach, Handel, and Schubert, among others. While demanding perfection in himself, he was also one who could work with and support a wide variety of personalities. As I thought about it, I realized that it was little wonder that he would help rescue this important moment in Schumann’s career. The value of this work in the canon of Schumann’s music and Romantic classical music cannot be underestimated, and Mendelssohn helped its success.

As I’ve thought about this story I have questioned how often I’ve been willing to jump in and help those around me. Do I allow insecurities, doubts, ego, pride, or obliviousness keep me from helping those in need, no matter how big or small the issue may be? How impatient do I become when working with people who seem to struggle with things that come easily to myself?

More often than not I think I fall into the category of LSEHI (Let Someone Else Handle It). My excuses often are linked to feelings of insecurity and inadequacy, but there are times that I quite frankly just don’t want to help a particular person. The reasons are usually complex, but whatever the excuse, this behavior is not Christlike and I know it.

A few years ago there was a suicide at a local university. A student jumped to their death into a campus building’s atrium in the middle of the school day. I felt so horrible for the young student who felt so much despair that they took their own life. I also felt for the students who were affected by this tragic event. It was impressive, however, to see the actions of the students in the following days and weeks. Instead of looking inward and complaining about the hardship they experienced by witnessing or being inconvenienced by the event, they instead looked outward to talk about how to help others who might be feeling similarly desperate and hopeless. There was an overt movement on campus to be aware of those around them, to be the supporting arm, and to be the listening ear. I was having blood drawn a few days after the incident and mentioned it to my phlebotomist. Her comment was, “What a selfish thing to do. I have no patience for people who seek attention and hurt others by killing themselves.” I couldn’t help but compare her reaction to the reaction of the students. As I further mulled her comment, I was moved to search inward and examine my own reaction to the pain in people around me. It made me stop and think about what I could personally do to help those who are struggling. I still don’t have much of an answer, but I do believe that being aware of the needs of those around us and reaching out nonjudgmentally can make a world of difference. I’ve hopefully done a better job of being aware of others’ needs in the aftermath.

I have seen far too often how people suffering from clinical or episodic depression are told to just “get over it.” I’ve watched the judgments of whole communities on people who struggle with mental or emotional health issues. I’ve heard people who are grieving be told that it’s time to “move on.” I’ve heard the cries of people struggling just to be seen, loved, and accepted. I’ve seen people, of all ages, act out in ways that aren’t in the social norm, only to be shunted aside and mocked. How easy it is to condemn and yet how simple it really is to provide the gentle heart to someone who is in need of being loved and listened to. This is something that my late husband was always very good at and has served as an example to me for the past 25+ years.

I have come to love the music of Leslie Bricusse and his songs touch my heart in a unique way. One such song, from the movie Goodbye Mr. Chips has become a bit of a theme song for me (so much so that I’ve put it on my official funeral music list). Here are the lyrics to “Fill the World With Love.”

In the morning of my life I shall look to the sunrise
At the moment of my life when the world is new
And the blessing I shall ask is that God will grant me
To be brave and strong and true
And to fill the world with love my whole life through

And to fill the world with love
And to fill the world with love
And to full the world with love
My whole life through

In the noontime of my life I shall look to the sunshine
At a moment of my life when the sky is blue
And the blessing I shall ask will remain unchanging
To be brave and strong and true
And to fill the world with love my whole life through

And to fill the world with love
And to fill the world with love
And to full the world with love
My whole life through

In the evening of my life I shall look to the sunset
At the moment of my life when the night is due
And the question I shall ask only God can answer
Was I brave and strong and true?
Did I fill the world with love my whole life through?

Did I fill the world with love?
Did I fill the world with love?
Did I fill the world with love
My whole life through?

Leslie Bricusse

The impact Mendelssohn had on Robert Schumann for his act of kindness on that December night isn’t recorded. I like to believe that it was appreciated and that it touched Schumann’s heart, if only for a little while, but I don’t know. I do know that it was an act designed to bless another person’s life. Appreciated or not, it was a decision that blessed the world by helping bring forth a beautiful work of music. In my own life I see all the ways people have blessed me through the years and I believe that those actions have helped me both in the immediacy of the action and in the years that follow. Through acts big and small, I pray that I, too, may somehow fill the world with love my whole life through.