As an Orthodox Christian, how does one best love God and neighbor?

I am a pianist. My life is consumed by the task of converting mind
and mystery into sound.  There seems to be a fascinating alliance
between theology and music.  Both seek to make us, in the words of
Bishop Kallistos, "progressively aware of a mystery."

Ever since my conversion to Orthodox Christianity, I have been
accused of having a mental pathology that my friends call "theo-
logical intellectualism."  Because of my fascination with the
precision of the ecumenical councils, people tire of my discourses
on the two natures of Christ and the practical significance of
theology.  As many Orthodox Christians have known for centuries,
only when theology is integrated into life and worship does the true
 dance of love begin.

I am convinced that Orthodoxy reveals the sublime truth that "God
is love."  In former days, this statement evoked merely a warm and
fuzzy response within me.  I now understand that this biblical truth
is revealed in God's very existence as a triune being.  The inner
harmony and communion between the Father, Son and Holy Spirit is the
very definition of "love."

I try to answer the accusation of intellectualism by talking about
love of God and neighbor.  If one desires to love deeply, one
naturally desires to know, as intimately as possible, the object
of that love.  So theology is simply the language of applied love.
And the Church is our great school of love, the one place where
fallen individuals can be progressively transformed into the loving
beings we were designed to be.  And it is here that the musical
connections abound.  A musician is transformed into a better
musician by the systematic acquisition of patterns of behavior
that produce great music--simply put, by practicing.  This is,
in most cases, a lifelong ascetic pursuit characterized by severe
mental discipline--in a culture generally hostile to self-denial.
There is no other motivation for this insanity other than love.
Similar to the motivation for passing up McDonald's during Lent,
the incessant practice of a passage from a Beethoven sonata reveals
that our home is not of this world and that true love frequently
gives birth to bizarre and challenging actions.

In many ways, I see musicians as aural iconographers dedicated to
the revelation of a spiritual reality that seems obtusely abstract
to those demanding "realism."  Just as St. John of Damascus called
the icon "a song of triumph," so music provides a window into the
Kingdom, revealing a spirtual reality that transcends reason and
realism.

The great twentieth-century painter, Wassily Kandinsky, had two
great loves: icons and music.  He frequently coveted the ability
of music to reveal spiritual reality due to its curious lack of
connection to anything "real."  Likewise, the love we seek to
inculcate in our hearts is anything but "realistic."  We are utterly
dependent upon God's grace as revealed in the Scriptures, the Church,
the sacraments and the liturgy to nurture and protect this mysterious
life of love inside each of us.

So how does an Orthodox Christian attempt to love God and neighbor?
We must live and breathe in a way that keeps alive the glorious
tension between this side of eternity and the transcendent life
to which the Lover of Mankind has called us.  Only as we understand
the depth of God's love, and the exceedingly great gifts he has
bestowed upon us, will we even begin to be the finely-tuned instrument
that can, in the words of St. John Chrysostom, "create a spiritual
melody" through which God's love is freely heard by all.

                           Paul Barnes
                           Lincoln, Nebraska