Symphony No. 1, Movement II

This work is about human emotion and its interference with our relationship with God. It is about being presented with truth and ignoring it to better suit ourselves. It is about the freedom to believe in an absolute truth. Our emotions control our judgment to the extent that we do not see clearly and begin to believe that there may be more than one answer. But in the end we are all held accountable, and the truth will be upheld.

This is the story of a man and his journey toward faith. While there is light of day he is confident and self-assured, indestructible. Surrounded by friends and belongings, he has no need, only want. Those things he wants he simply acquires and moves on. But within the darkened shadows of his soul he finds no peace. There is an uncertainty of purpose; a longing for something for which he has no name or description. Only an emptiness that echoes a single voice… His own.

"I am alone," it whispers. "I am alone."

He finds his comfort surrounded by many people and things, but when his eyes begin to close at night, he feels the void within and is frightened. A light begins to filter through a dense canopy of trees that surround him while he lay upon the damp, cold forest floor and leaves, as he drifts to sleep. The musty smell of earth creeps into his nostrils and the man cannot move.

"I am afraid," he whispers. "I am afraid."

The rapid movement behind his eyelids stirs him awake in a cold sweat, to stare at the darkened ceiling.

He is again comforted by his surroundings as the day ensues, forgetting his dream and feeling self-assured.

"I am not alone," he assures himself. "I am not alone."

In his study, having worked all day meeting deadlines and expectations, he pauses for a moment. His mind begins to wonder until he stumbles on a few memories of his family at church service on a cold and rainy Sunday morning. Strangely, in his memories, he is not there. He had been there before, but this time he had said he wasn’t feeling well and stayed home. When his parents and family came home, he was gone. Out with his friends. Eventually, he simply refused to go at all because it was "stupid" and "a waste of time." He didn’t mention that it was also to avoid the ridicule of some of his friends and that most of their activities were much more fun without the constraints of religion and regulation… And guilt for that matter.

He paused on a vision of an empty seat on the church pew next to his mother. Suddenly the light diminished and strange noises began screeching and dancing around his head. He had drifted to sleep on the desk and found himself again lying on the forest floor. His hands began to tremble, though his body could not move, and he felt a cold upon his limbs like death flowing over his body. Voices were speaking through the darkness in such a frightening tone that he could not make them out, and he began to speak himself.

"Someone help me… I am afraid!"

But the voices continued and the dark became darker and the cold became like ice on his fingertips. A wind picked up and howled and whisked through the leaves.

"God help me! I am afraid!"

Suddenly, the voices and sound began to subside. The wind began to calm and a sensation of warmth and energy began to fill his body out to his feet and hands. He spoke, almost in wonder, as he realized,

"I am alive."

As those words had awoken his soul, he began to pray and ask forgiveness for his sins, enabling him to come to his knees and fold his hands together.

"I am alone, Lord. I am afraid. Help me to understand what it is that you want from me. Why do I feel so lost?"

And he spoke and prayed with passion and intensity as he had never before, with sincerity previously unknown to him.

The man felt disoriented as he began to wake, but no longer frightened. The light peered through the window and blinded his eyes until they became accustomed to the morning. He rubbed them and looked around the room, not remembering how he had made it to his bed or why he was still clothed.

"Light"

Almost while his eyes still have sleep at their corners, the man is confronted by the world. It laughs at him and scorns his thoughts and words. He is tempted by many things, and the anger within him wells up and consumes his soul.

"My, God! Why have you forsaken me?"

It seems as though crowds of angry men and women are making him mute and his testimony is lost in their noise. There is no truth, they say. Truth is defined, then, by one’s personal desires.

But while claiming to embrace all things they have excluded the one truth, by the very statement of their philosophy.

"I am NOT alone," the man cries. "My God is with me!"

Words and accusations explode around him like canons and bombs, and he is deafened by their percussive blows as the battle ensues. Anger is stabbing at his flesh and the confusion makes his ears bleed.

And then, as though the world were suddenly consumed with silence, everything stands still. A picture frozen in time. An epiphany. A moment of clarity and purpose.

"I have forsaken my God. I am alone. What have I done?"

And out of the silence the Lord speaks to him.

"I have given you my truth. I am the way the truth and the life. No one comes to the father, except by me."

"But I have trusted you. Why then am I still alone?"

"You have believed in my Father, but you have not believed in me. For if you are to be saved from this battle, I will be your salvation."

"What must I do to deserve this?"

"You must accept and trust in me as my Father’s word is written. I will be your shield."

"How long must I suffer in battle?"

"I will be your strength."

The man again kneels and finds himself in the presence of God. This time he knows the truth and accepts it. A peace falls over him like nothing he has ever experienced. The battle still rages outside his door, but he is not afraid to go out into it. He is not afraid to speak the truth to others. He is no longer alone.

"Lord, am I still dreaming?"

"No, my child. You have just begun to awake."

2 Flutes (1,2)
1 English Horn (Soloist)

All remaining Woodwind and Brass players -or- equivalent amount of personnel

4 Timpani

1 Cymbal
Bass Drum
Chimes
Guiro
Cuica
Woodblock

Violins I, II, III, IV
Violas I, II
Cellos
Basses

The first and third movements are being considered for re-orchestration.  They will not be released until such time as they are finished.  A fourth movement was originally composed as well, but was discarded as it departed somewhat from the intentions of the accompanying text.

Approx. 10 minutes and 36 seconds in length

Number of Pages:

Original Print Size:

Difficulty: Advanced/Professional

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