G-d’s Symphony: The Note Only You Can Play

E21/2025

Dedicated in the merit (zechus) of Ari Elan ben Rochel Gittel ארי אילן בן רחל גיטל for a refuah sheleimah — a complete and speedy recovery

Have you ever felt small, invisible, or replaceable? The Torah insists the opposite: each of us carries a note that no one else can play.

Part 1: If You Have 30 Seconds

The Torah begins with a profound statement about human dignity:“

G-d created man in His image; in the image of G-d He created him” (Genesis 1:27)

This means that every human being is unique, irreplaceable, and carries within them a spark of the Divine.

A man once came to a rabbi, broken in spirit. He had recently returned to Judaism but felt inadequate: he could not study Torah on his own, he knew little about mitzvot, and, worst of all, doctors had given him only a few months to live. “Why should I get up in the morning?” he asked. “My life has no purpose.”

The rabbi answered with a story about the famous conductor Arturo Toscanini. One night, Toscanini listened to a radio broadcast of a performance of one of his own compositions by a great philharmonic orchestra. To the journalist sitting with him, it sounded magnificent.

But Toscanini was distraught:

“This was a great philharmonic orchestra, and the score called for sixteen violinists. But tonight there were only fifteen. One was missing, and without that single violin, the piece is no longer what I created. I know this because I am the one who wrote the music. I know exactly what every violin is meant to play, and when even one voice is silent, the whole composition is incomplete.

”The rabbi looked at the man. “You are that violin. G-d composed the world with you in it. If your note is missing, creation itself is incomplete.

”The man spent his final months rising each morning with joy: “My Father in Heaven is waiting for my sound. Today, I will give it to Him.

”Lesson: Just as we long for our own voice to be valued, honour the voices of those around you — and encourage them to play their part. Only together, when every instrument sounds, can G-d’s music truly play.

Part 2: If You Have an Extra Minute

The story of Toscanini and the rabbi gives us a vivid image — but let’s go deeper.

The Torah tells us two essential truths about human dignity:

1. Every person is created in the image of G-d (Genesis 1:27)

2. “What is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow” (Shabbat 31a)

Taken together, these verses teach that self-esteem is not selfish — it is a recognition of divine truth. And respecting others is not a courtesy — it is a spiritual obligation.

Modern psychology echoes these ideas. Viktor Frankl, survivor of the Holocaust, argued that the deepest human need is meaning. When people see their lives as necessary and purposeful, they can endure suffering and even thrive. More recently, Positive Psychology has shown that well-being flows not from comfort or success alone, but from knowing one’s unique strengths are being used to contribute to something larger.

The danger of low self-esteem is that it blinds us to this truth. We compare ourselves to others, and when we fall short, we think we are worthless. But in G-d’s composition, comparison is meaningless. In the great philharmonic of life, each role matters. No violin can replace a trumpet. No drum can stand in for a flute. Your instrument is yours alone.

The second danger is forgetting to lift up those around us. If you’ve ever felt invisible, you know how painful it is. So the Torah tells us: do not inflict that pain on others. Instead, encourage people — a kind word, a reminder of their value — so they too play their part in G-d’s orchestra with joy.

Reflection: Each morning ask, “What is my note today?” And just as importantly, ask, “Whose note can I help bring out today?” For only together can G-d’s symphony be heard in its fullness.