Right before dinner last evening, we were walking along the Mississippi River, and an elderly man came up to the group and started talking to them. I had been behind the group taking a couple of pictures. When I arrived, he was telling the group to pick any one of twelve singers (B.B. King, Otis Redding, Fats Domino to name a few) and he would sing a song of theirs and sound exactly like them. I forget his name, but he called himself the "Human Jukebox." To be honest it was a little awkward, getting a stranger walk up to you and start this kind of conversation with us. Finally though I acquiesced, and picked B.B. King and told him the song was his pick. He sang "The Thrill Is Gone." I am no expert on B.B. King, but I will say that the Human Jukebox was not exactly like plunking in a CD and hearing B.B. play on Lucille. But there were some resonances. He certainly knew the phrasing and the soul of the music. There WAS something of B.B. King about him... it was a joy and a treat to be able to stand there and listen to this man sing.
Our youth even mentioned him when we asked them where they had seen God that day. For many to watch him spontaneously sing and give an offering of something which brought him great joy was a sign of God in this world. Someone placed some money in the box he carried with him, but I was touched by his insistence on sharing his gift and his joy. "Go on," he insisted, "pick one! I'll sing any song you want!" I don't know why I didn't walk away from him with some half-hearted excuse, but I didn't and we were all blessed to see this offering.
I can't help but wonder if when we speak we carry the resonances of our master in our voices, in our hands, and in our very lives. Are we the divine jukeboxes we are called to be? Do we in response to the gift given to us, respond spontaneously and joyfully with others? Can others hear God at work in us?
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