Please enjoy a chapter from Jumping for Joy in the Midst of Sorrow concerning light, darkness, the month of Kislev and Beethoven.
Light Birthed in Darkness
Beethoven was born December 17, 1770. His date of birth fell on the 7th day of Chanukah (Hanukkah) in the Hebrew month of Kislev. In John Chapter 10, we read about Yeshua showing up for this Festival of Lights. Although Hanukkah always begins on the 25th day of Kislev, that date can fall anywhere between late November and late December on the Gregorian calendar. Beethoven’s birth, name, and deafness all orchestrate a melody. And just like the celebration of Hanukkah, Beethoven shone his light in the darkness. Though he became deaf, his spirit man could hear music inside his soul. “The name Kislev derives from the Hebrew word kesel (כֶּסֶל). In Hebrew, the word for kidney is also kesel (כֶּסֶל).” [1]
Hearing the most profound truth is attributed to the kidneys. The kidney sliced in half looks like ears. “You are near in their mouth but far from their kidneys” (Jeremiah 12:2 ISR). Bible translators have replaced the word kidney with rein or heart and often as inward parts, but kidneys was the original wording. Beethoven’s autopsy report showed he had renal disease among a whole list of health issues. A man who lost his hearing gave us music orchestrated in heavenly silence that could only be heard in Beethoven’s mind.
Ludwig van Beethoven is a name familiar to most people over the globe. He wrote nine symphonies that took music to another galaxy. But it is his personal life and calling that is most noteworthy. This man suffered horribly, and, yet, his heart-wrenching soul was able to strike keys and soar violin bows into a place of melodies leaving one mesmerized. I often say our pain is for another man’s gain. Frequently the world sees the gift and not the person. We know Beethoven because of his masterpieces. I can listen to Fur Elise or Beethoven 9th Symphony – Movement IV – “Ode to Joy” daily, but what about the man who composed them?
Beethoven’s name from birth seems profoundly chosen. Van meaning from and Beethoven meaning gardens or fields. Ludwig, Beethoven’s first name, has many metaphors connected to his journey. The first element means famed and loud, from Proto-Indo-European to hear. The second element is wīg, meaning battle or strife. A man who battled hearing loss with great strife would become loud and famous for his musical brilliance. Yes, his name has all those facets embedded in it. [2]
Kislev is the 9th month of the Hebrew calendar. It represents the time of pregnancy in the womb. Kislev expresses that all life is precious. Beethoven’s mother lost two sons before giving birth to Beethoven, one of them being her first husband’s; however, she lost even more children. Besides her sons Beethoven, Caspar, and Johann, she had three more children (one boy and two girls). All of them died soon in life, respectively at the age of four days, one year, and two years. She is poetically described by Edmund Morris.
Her final confinement left her depressed and frail, doomed to expire herself, at forty, of consumption. Slender, earnest-eyed, moralistic, genteel, she floats like a faded watercolor sketch in the van Beethoven family scrapbook, amid more robust images of men of high color and stocky build.
–Edmund Morris
Beethoven’s father, Johann, was a drunk and a mediocre court singer. He sang in the chapel of the Archbishop of Cologne in Bonn. However, Beethoven looked up to his grandfather, whom he was named after — Kapellmeister (Master) Ludwig van Beethoven, Bonn’s most affluent and celebrated musician. His home was filled with silver and wealth, while Beethoven’s father’s house was filled with banknotes and poverty. Beethoven’s father taught him music. According to Biography:
Sometime between the births of his two younger brothers, Beethoven’s father began teaching him music with extraordinary rigor and brutality that affected him for the rest of his life. Neighbors provided accounts of the small boy weeping while he played the clavier, standing atop a footstool to reach the keys, his father beating him for each hesitation or mistake. [3]
–Biography
The one area that brought Beethoven much pain would also bring him fame and joy. Many times, our gifting can cause us pain and joy. Beethoven was deprived of sleep for extra hours of practice. On a near-daily basis, he was flogged and locked in the cellar by his father, but one cannot hide light in the darkness because a lamp will only shine brighter. “He [Beethoven] studied the violin and clavier with his father as well as taking additional lessons from organists around town. Whether in spite of or because of his father’s draconian methods, Beethoven was a prodigiously talented musician from his earliest days.” Biography. [4] Sadly, later in life, Beethoven received custody of his nephew and was often cruel like his father had been to him. We often do what we know until we know better. Beethoven longed for his nephew to be a musician, but the young man was not gifted in this area.
By the age of 13, some historians say, Beethoven became Assistant Court Musician and was placed on salary to support his family because his father’s alcoholism had reached the point that he could no longer provide for the family. In 1787, the court sent Beethoven to Vienna, where he longed to study with Mozart. “Tradition has it that, upon hearing Beethoven, Mozart said, “Keep your eyes on him; someday he will give the world something to talk about.” [5] Some historians, however, are skeptical that Mozart and Beethoven met at all. While it cannot be determined whether Beethoven met Mozart, it is feasible that Beethoven heard Mozart play. When the Father sends people who want to learn or be mentored by us, we should mimic this story. Although Beethoven had a cruel upbringing, many later compositions much were for the sole purpose of exalting the Father of Lights and more so after losing his hearing.
Beethoven started becoming deaf at around the age of 26. The intense buzzing in his ears caused irritability, and for many years, the people around him had no idea he was suffering. As a writer, I cannot imagine losing my eyesight. I never know what story will come forth from my fingers until I start writing. Beethoven’s ears were straining to hear a vibration. While giving piano instructions to a Hungarian countess, Beethoven fell in love with her, but he could not marry her because of his social status. He later dedicated his Moonlight” Sonata No. 14 to her. He wrote, “No friend have I. I must live by myself alone, but I know well that God is nearer to me than others in my art, so I will walk fearlessly with Him.” [6]
Not only was Beethoven’s social status against him, but his appearance was also rather unique. Beethoven’s ruddy complexion bore the scars of childhood smallpox. His unruly dark hair and bushy eyebrows stood out, making his sorrowful eyes only more dramatized. His deafness was socially awkward for him. He was a short man and unprofessional in his behavior. I am reminded of a passage that may have comforted Beethoven. It is a passage written concerning the Messiah. “He had no stately form or majesty that we should look upon Him, Nor appearance that we should be attracted to Him.” (Isaiah 53:2). German composer, Ferdinand Ries, a pupil, friend, and secretary to Beethoven, described Beethoven in words one would never have guessed while listening to his musical masterpieces.
His clumsy movements lacked all grace. He rarely picked up anything without dropping or breaking it. Everything was knocked over, soiled, or destroyed. How he ever managed to shake himself at all remains difficult to understand, even considering the frequent cuts on his cheeks. – He never learned to dance in time with the music. [7]
–Ferdinand Ries
A man so highly gifted in one area yet lacking in so many others. Listening to Moon Light Sonata #14 does not evoke an image of a dyslexic, clumsy, awkward man with no rhythm. Many times when a person is gifted in one area, and that area is sensitively magnified, he may be quite challenged in other areas. Several close friends left a multitude of adjectives to describe this creative genius. Beethoven’s personality was also challenging.
As a young man, Beethoven was frank to the point of rudeness. Headstrong and proud, he was never willing to conform in his behavior. As he grew older and deafness overtook him, the negative aspects of Beethoven’s personality came to the fore. He was increasingly given to bouts of despair, the difficulties of communication made him more reserved, and he became more suspicious and distrustful of others. [8]
–Barry Cooper, ed The Beethoven Companion (London, 1991), 102 – 105
Hearing and seeing are vital in the spiritual sense. All of Beethoven’s talents, creativity, frankness,
headstrong, and opinionated spirit would be humbled through deafness. His deafness caused suffering. Beethoven now lacked the ability to hear and respond with great authority or pomp. Many of these difficulties led Beethoven to seek a heavenly Father but multiple writings paint this man to be utterly unpredictable. Domestic luxuries were unimportant to him, and the careful composer was a creature of disorderliness. Baron de Tremont writes of a visit to Beethoven in 1809.
Picture to yourself the dirtiest, most disorderly place imaginable – blotches of moisture covered the ceiling, an oldish grand piano, on which dust disputed the place with various pieces of engraved and manuscript music; under the piano (I do not exaggerate) an unemptied pot de nuit; (portable toilet) the chairs, mostly cane-seated, were covered with plates bearing the remains of last night’s supper and with wearing apparel, etc.
–Barry Cooper, ed The Beethoven Companion (London, 1991), 102 – 105
Count von Keglevics, the nephew of one of Beethoven’s students, wrote:
He had a whim, one of many, since he lived across from her [his student], of coming to give her lessons clad in a dressing gown, slippers, and a peaked nightcap.
Many times, those gifted with extreme wealth in one area are labeled strange in another. Beethoven could not spell very well or do simple math, but he could indeed compose. Because Beethoven dropped out of traditional school at 10, he never learned the fundamentals. Multiple historians believe he had learning disabilities and possibly dyslexia. From reading the few comments left by acquaintances and knowledge of his upbringing, it is easy to see the genius was still suffering from trauma, suspicions, and a fear of a world where people often did not understand him. Beethoven was most comfortable alone in his apartment wearing pajamas and writing music in his head from the memory of what each musical note held. Bathing was overrated and cleaning up would take away from the very thing that had been beaten into him from childhood.
In his earlier days, Beethoven would leave Bonn and travel abroad, teaching students and being taught by the likes of Hayden and other greats. It has been said that this free-spirited man, Beethoven, rewrote the rule book for Classical music. Robert Greenberg, Ph.D., music historian and faculty member at the University of Pennsylvania’s Wharton School of Business, share multiple layers of knowledge concerning Beethoven in a blog by Harvard Business titled In a Crisis, What Would Beethoven Do? Rewrite the Rulebook.
“Beethoven bent, folded, spindled, and mutilated the Classical style, believing completely that its rules, rituals, and traditions were only useful up to the point that they served the expressive context. Beyond that, he reserved the right to do exactly what he pleased.”
Greenberg continued describing details of this man’s life through anger and sickness and the moment when Beethoven went completely deaf:
Unlike most alienated and isolated people, Beethoven translated his experience into action, not by writing sour letters to the editor or by yelling at the neighbor’s kids, but by composing music that universalized both his problems and solutions. His problems are well known; his solutions, always, grew out of an instinct and ability to rewrite the rulebook when environmental and personal issues threatened to crush him. 9
–Robert Greenberg
In his later years, reaching total deafness, Beethoven depended on writing pads or notebooks to communicate. He stayed isolated in his apartment much of the time. Many of these conversations written on notepads have survived. Some of them are only one-sided, but they give the reader much to ponder. On one occasion, it seems Beethoven was discussing the Resurrection with his friend Karl Peters. We don’t know what question Beethoven asked, but Peters’ reply sums up the contemporary crisis of faith and the hope of overcoming it: “You will arise with me from the dead—because you must. Religion remains constant, and only Man is changeable.” [9] Taking advice from one physician, during his darkest days of depression, Beethoven took to nature.
My miserable hearing does not trouble me here. In the country, it seems as if every tree said to me: ‘Holy! Holy!’ Who can give complete expression to the ecstasy of the woods! O, the sweet stillness of the woods! July 1814
–Ludwig van Beethoven
Also in 1814, in a rehearsal for the Archduke Trio, it was said that Beethoven pounded on the keys until the strings jangled, and in piano, he played so softly that whole groups of notes were absent. His deafness had crippled his ability to discern this. How many of us have a beautiful melody inside, but at times, when we try to orchestrate the words, they come out harsh?
When it came to the premiere of his massive Ninth Symphony, Beethoven insisted on conducting. The orchestra hired another conductor, Michael Umlauf, to stand alongside the composer. Umlauf told the performers to follow him and ignore Beethoven’s directions. The symphony received rapturous applause, which Beethoven could not hear. Legend has it that the young contralto Carolina Unger approached the maestro and turned him around to face the audience, to see the ovation.
–The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Life of Ludwig van Beethoven, Volume
III (of 3), by Alexander Wheelock Thayer.
We, too, are often conducting our own symphony. Many times, the Father is present orchestrating each movement. Other times we are doing things to be seen by men. “So, when you give to the poor, do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, so that they may be honored by men. Truly I say to you, they have their reward in full” (Matthew 6:2, NASB). Sometimes we just need help with the gift.
One day, we too pray that Yeshua will turn us toward the Father, and we will hear, “Well done my good and faithful servant.” In the meantime, let us become so swept up in Him that we do not even hear the accolades of men. Our gift is for the Father. We work with our hands to glorify Him. Can we be so caught up in His Glory that even our weaknesses become our strengths? Paul said, “Therefore I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in distresses, in persecutions, in difficulties, in behalf of Christ; for when I am weak, then I am strong” (II Corinthians 12:10, NASB).
We are often surrounded by dirty chamber pots, needing a change of garments or warmth, pounding on keys to make a melody for Adonai that we often cannot even hear, and yet, the Father is mindful of us. May we run the race with horse blinders on, running to get the prize, even with our imperfections and times of deafness. Not a prize given to men by men, but a prize that transcends time. In Beethoven’s later years, he produced some of his most admired work, and he was utterly deaf at that time. When we have spiritual ears, we can still hear the melody of heaven. Our outward bodies are perishing daily, but our spirit man grows stronger. I laughed at the last words recorded by Beethoven, “Pity, pity—too late!” as the dying composer was told of a gift of twelve bottles of wine from his publisher.
Beethoven’s father wanted his son to become Mozart. As a piano virtuoso, Beethoven grew to surpass Mozart in measures unheard of. Every flower has its day in the sun when its colors burst forth, and people walk by and say, “Look at the beauty of those orchids, roses, and daffodils and smell their sweet aroma.” But once the colors fade and the petals drop, the stems bend, shrinking towards the earth, that season is over. May we all work while it is still light and let us shine even in the darkest cellar. What can we learn from this man who was physically deaf, yet brilliantly hearing melodies full of wonder? Is there joy hidden in sorrow? Is there sound hidden in silence. Are there melodies in our hearts that long to sing even if no one hears our voice but heaven? What type of strength can we learn from these dealt cards that could not be discarded at a round table? Can you see the music and melody of suffering and sorrow sitting right next to those piano keys of joy?
Some sources have listed his last words as, “I shall hear in heaven.” And so shall we, friends. During the month of Kislev, the month of dreams, the month of light in the darkness may we dream, and may we get to the very root of the riddle. May we hear and obey. May we take our precious gifts from Abba and use them as Beethoven did. Even with the loss of his natural hearing, he could still hear the music. Even with our disfigurement, our frailties, our lack of communication skills, our dyslexia, our past beatings, and cruelties, may we shine.
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