What Pope Francis taught me about playing the violin

MANILA, Philippines - I will no longer write about waiting and lining up with crowds of people excited to see Pope Francis; or going through four security checks before being permitted to enter the Mall of Asia (MOA) Arena; or about the days and hours of preparation in light of the papal visit. All these many of us have experienced as volunteers, participants or onlookers throughout the five-day papal visit.

Instead, let me begin with our biggest dilemma as part of the orchestra playing at the Encounter with Families: whether we should actually play or not.

We were seated directly in front of the low barricade, right where the pope would pass on his way to the stage. When Pope Francis arrived, he would be a mere arm’s stretch away. The problem was, we were to play the opening hymn, Ikaw ay Pedro (a translation of Tu Es Petrus), music to which the pope would walk as he entered the arena. Even minutes before Pope Francis entered the arena – even during our 8 bars rest at the beginning of the piece – my fellow violinists and I were still standing, trying to get a glimpse of the pope as he came our way.

Eventually – at bar 7, with a stern glance from our conductor – we sat back down in our place to play. After all, we were there to perform for the pope. Despite the rare opportunity to greet him face to face, we knew we were there to greet him with our music. That was the first lesson Pope Francis taught me about playing the violin: to play with purpose; to value each performance, each note; to realize the importance of my role as a musician and to fulfill it to the best of my ability.

In his Encounter with the Youth at the University of Santo Tomas (UST), Pope Francis said repeatedly: “To think. To feel. To do. And all in harmony… To be wise, use three languages: think well, feel well and do well,” referring to what one needed to live a good life. These three steps, I can also apply playing music: to think – to read the notes, to study the piece well; but then to go beyond that, to feel the music; and to do – to perform well, all in harmony.

But music is not only sound and melody and harmony – it is also silence, and Pope Francis proved to be a man of humble silence, which many times is more profound. In Tacloban he said, “All I can do is keep silence and walk with you all with my silent heart.”

Pope Francis’ messages often centered around love. At the MOA arena, he told the families, “When you lose this capacity to dream, then you lose the capacity to love, and this energy to love is lost.” At UST he said, “What is most important subject you have to learn in life? To learn how to love,” and “Real love allows you to spend yourselves, to leave your pockets empty.”

Playing music with love allows a musician to bestow their audience with love, with dreams. To spend ourselves – give ourselves fully through music or art – is the aspiration of any artist.

The big screens at MOA showed a live feed of the pope as his motorcade made its way to and from the Arena the day that we were there. The energy in the Arena was electric as people cheered even if the popemobile had only just left the nunciature.

Being with the people inside the arena, passing through the crowds outside, seeing the streets lined five-, ten-deep with devotees, made me realize the magnitude of the event that I was a part of – of the faith that I was a part of.

The packed venue, the flashing cameras and cell phones, the energy – it is no wonder that media has dubbed Pope Francis a rock star.

As a musician, I have performed in concerts with rock stars – some even in the very same MOA arena – and while they are charismatic like Pope Francis, being in his presence allowed me to understand why he rejects being called a rock star. When he speaks, he is not putting on a show – I witnessed him light up when he would stray from script and speak from the heart. To call the pope a rock star would be to trivialize who he is and what he stands for. He is, simply, Petrus – the Church’s rock.

I did not get my selfie with the pope. I did not even see him up close though he passed by me, just about two meters away. But, in his presence, I was inspired to play – to live – with sincerity, with grace, and with love.

Each of us had our own fleeting encounter with Pope Francis; some of us had the opportunity to serve him in what little way we could. We are but a small part of the papal visit, one note in an orchestrated piece, but each note must be played in tune for the music to soar.

Ultimately, the greatest teachers may only guide, encourage and, at best, challenge. Each lesson would be rendered useless if the students do not go on to practice our etudes and scales, and actually apply what we have learned.

Now that Pope Francis is back in the Vatican, the masterclass is over. Will we continue to play in tune?

The author is STARweek staff writer and plays second violin with the Manila Symphony Orchestra.