I recently finished reading “The Soloist” by Steve Lopez and I must admit that I haven’t been that moved by a book in a long, long time. I’m sure you’ve seen the advertisements here and there for the movie by the same title. You can view the previews here as well as interviews with the author and the subject of the book, Nathaniel Anthony Ayers. Just listening to the haunting strains of Beethoven's 3rd makes a trip to the website well worth it.
I promise I won’t give anything away, but this book is about mental illness- certainly the tragedy of it, but also, in a strange way, the beauty of it. Not beauty in the sense that we typically think of beauty, but I think you’ll understand after you read the book. Nathaniel Anthony Ayers is a 52 year-old homeless African-American man living on the streets of Los Angeles, staying near a statue of his beloved Beethoven in Pershing Square. Why the Beethoven statue? Ayers is a Julliard trained double bass player who, because of mental illness, became homeless and has lived on the streets for some 30 years. He catches the attention of Steve Lopez, an LA Times columnist who notices Ayers setting near the Beethoven statue, playing a violin with just two strings – in Ayers words, “I’ve had a few setbacks.” Thus, the two-stringed violin.
The book is the beautiful, raw, honest story of their two-year journey. Lopez does all he can to help Mr. Ayers get off the street and lead as stable a life as possible despite suffering from schizophrenia. I won’t give any details, but trust me, you’ll be moved beyond words at the lengths Lopez goes to make a difference in this man’s life. Time, money, and at times his own sanity, are sacrificed on Lopez’s part, all with the hope that he can help Mr. Ayers find peace and stability. I have to admit that I’d have probably given up LONG before Lopez did. As I read the book I had to ask myself why my calling as a child of God – a Christian – did not compel me to give and sacrifice as much for someone in a similar condition. There was no mention of God in the book, but I heard the voice of the Lord speaking to me several times as I read, asking me what I had done, or better yet, what I planned to do beyond teaching in a Apostolic college, participating in the music team at church and doing the occasional care ministry activity in my church. So, I guess that’s a subject for a different blog, but I couldn’t help but mention it here since it spoke to me so strongly in that sense.
Conviction and hope…
What I found so fascinating about Mr. Ayers is that despite all the hurt and pain in his life, much of which was caused by a broken family and a lack of support by friends, mentors and instructors, he never, ever became bitter against his art, which you will see is the great love of his life. He never became embittered against those he went to school with at Julliard – cellist Yo-Yo Ma being one of them – because of their successes in life when contrasted against his own sickness and resulting failure. Instead, he applauded them, praised them and found more joy in their music than you could ever imagine. It’s so built into our nature to envy those who are successful – even people in the church who are our brothers and sisters. At the opening of Romans 12, Paul speaks about the different gifts given to each member of the body of Christ. When I mulled this all over I had to repent and pray for that simplicity of mind that would cause me to rejoice in the gifting of my friends and co-workers. After all, they are gifts – given to us by a God who chooses us as His vessels through which He will make known His greatness, His beauty, His majesty.
Thank you Mr. Ayers – in your simplicity, your weakness, you have reminded me of the Source of every beautiful gift.
I promise I won’t give anything away, but this book is about mental illness- certainly the tragedy of it, but also, in a strange way, the beauty of it. Not beauty in the sense that we typically think of beauty, but I think you’ll understand after you read the book. Nathaniel Anthony Ayers is a 52 year-old homeless African-American man living on the streets of Los Angeles, staying near a statue of his beloved Beethoven in Pershing Square. Why the Beethoven statue? Ayers is a Julliard trained double bass player who, because of mental illness, became homeless and has lived on the streets for some 30 years. He catches the attention of Steve Lopez, an LA Times columnist who notices Ayers setting near the Beethoven statue, playing a violin with just two strings – in Ayers words, “I’ve had a few setbacks.” Thus, the two-stringed violin.
The book is the beautiful, raw, honest story of their two-year journey. Lopez does all he can to help Mr. Ayers get off the street and lead as stable a life as possible despite suffering from schizophrenia. I won’t give any details, but trust me, you’ll be moved beyond words at the lengths Lopez goes to make a difference in this man’s life. Time, money, and at times his own sanity, are sacrificed on Lopez’s part, all with the hope that he can help Mr. Ayers find peace and stability. I have to admit that I’d have probably given up LONG before Lopez did. As I read the book I had to ask myself why my calling as a child of God – a Christian – did not compel me to give and sacrifice as much for someone in a similar condition. There was no mention of God in the book, but I heard the voice of the Lord speaking to me several times as I read, asking me what I had done, or better yet, what I planned to do beyond teaching in a Apostolic college, participating in the music team at church and doing the occasional care ministry activity in my church. So, I guess that’s a subject for a different blog, but I couldn’t help but mention it here since it spoke to me so strongly in that sense.
Conviction and hope…
What I found so fascinating about Mr. Ayers is that despite all the hurt and pain in his life, much of which was caused by a broken family and a lack of support by friends, mentors and instructors, he never, ever became bitter against his art, which you will see is the great love of his life. He never became embittered against those he went to school with at Julliard – cellist Yo-Yo Ma being one of them – because of their successes in life when contrasted against his own sickness and resulting failure. Instead, he applauded them, praised them and found more joy in their music than you could ever imagine. It’s so built into our nature to envy those who are successful – even people in the church who are our brothers and sisters. At the opening of Romans 12, Paul speaks about the different gifts given to each member of the body of Christ. When I mulled this all over I had to repent and pray for that simplicity of mind that would cause me to rejoice in the gifting of my friends and co-workers. After all, they are gifts – given to us by a God who chooses us as His vessels through which He will make known His greatness, His beauty, His majesty.
Thank you Mr. Ayers – in your simplicity, your weakness, you have reminded me of the Source of every beautiful gift.
That was beautiful, Ann. Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteYou're so very welcome-
ReplyDeleteAnn