Music Fast

My Facebook status on Monday night loudly proclaimed that I was “chasing demons with loud music.” As I argued with God about the chaos in my head, my environment reverberated with music that reflected my inner tumult. According to the neighbors, it got a little loud, with lyrics still distinct outside. Oops...my mind was loud so the music had to be louder. There was no possible way it would be a night for “nice” tranquil music. No, not at all. Instead, it started with Savatage, with In Flames, Killswitch Engage, and Children of Bodom queued up next. All heavy, all pretty angry, and all awesome.

After finishing my scheduled task, I decided to lean on my friends a bit to get some Godly perspective on my life. And punched in more heavy music, this time Epica. Out of nowhere, the lyrics smacked me upside the head and I thought that it might at last be a time God had chosen to speak into my life.

I have this great friend (name omitted to protect the innocent). He has a great love for God and the faith of a child. One of the things I really value in my friend is how when God calls His name, he doesn't question or ponder, he just moves. My friend was relating a story about how God (through a friend) challenged him about possibly valuing a major (harmless) part of his life ahead of worshiping God. Rather than justify or deny, my friend just said “OK, I'll dump it. Because nothing can be more important than God.” Words to live by.

Part of my friend's counsel was to continue my walk with God, then push one step farther towards Him. I was considering how that would look when God reminded me of a semester in college where I wanted to be super sure that I was following Him closely. As a method of widening my comfort zone and challenging myself in my walk with God, I skipped a couple meals twice a week. Without digressing into theology, I'll just say that if you claim to follow Jesus and have never fasted, you gotta try it. It's like the automatic little-effort reminder to pray (driven by the growling) and makes food taste so much better at the end. Of course, there was also the dark side as I started having difficulty focusing in classes or on homework and was pretty much a monster looking to take peoples' heads off by about 4 PM. Needless to say, the fasts stopped at the end of the semester, and as I considered a typical workday, it didn't seem to fit in my life today.

Even as I was trying to straighten my life out by talking to my friends and listening to music at “appropriate volumes” (because rock and metal do have an appropriate level...way up there), I heard God subtly say in my ear, “I haven't said anything because you weren't listening. You've been filling your ears with voices and tunes and not leaving any room for me.” ...I hate when God calls it the way it is sometimes.

This morning, I rolled out of bed already planning what great music I was going to listen to today at work. Although some find constant aural stimulation distracting, I find that (within reason) it focuses me and reduces my tendency towards distraction. I was already cueing (and queuing) albums in my head when last night's brief discussion with God about fasting came back. So in my best Zach imitation, I didn't question but purposed that today would be a music fast. Since silence would adversely affect my productivity (kind of like completely skipping meals), I decided on the “non-nutritious juice fast” version, limiting myself to Christian music all day.

Music makes my life worth living. It's ingrained in my soul deeper than almost anything else. An old friend used to have a Facebook quote: “Why do I dance? Why do I breathe?” Said friend never seemed to be on the floor much, but music really is like breathing to me. Natural, constant, and necessary. So a music fast promised to be nearly equivalent to a food fast, except with less preparation and less “ripping heads off”.

Yes, I said “non-nutritious” above. Sorry if I offend, but it seems that “Christian” is sometimes just a synonym for “couldn't compete in the real world”, particularly when it comes to music. I have my favorite artists that see play alongside my “secular” preferences (Disciple, Skillet, and Hillsong come immediately to mind, with others following soon after), but most of the radio-friendly CCM just isn't that good and definitely isn't my style.

I did try to briefly negotiate God into “Christian and instrumental music” to include the latest couple Nightwish albums (which came with a B-side of instrumental mixes), but then remembered that I was supposed to be following, not negotiating. If nothing else, I figured that the deprivation would make me appreciate “the good stuff” at the end of the day.

And so it began. About three-fourths of the way to work, the radio got turned off when I had my fill of “family-friendly” tasteless pablum and I took refuge in my own interesting thoughts until I could get to work and resume a healthy intake. (Disciple's “Horseshoes and Handgrenades” won the day from the beginning.) Work was pretty scattered today, but I was content with my entertainment choices. Of course, tonight was the night I was supposed to meet someone after work and do lots of driving. Like my food fasts used to be, I figured I'd be done when I got home, but home was so far away tonight.

I did survive, though, and learned some things. First of all, God does honor following him, even in small “silly” ways. I don't know yet what I've attained through today's exercise, but it may well just be an increased readiness to listen and obey next time. Second, Christian radio is really that bad. I had forgotten. I think I heard 2 good songs across three stations in over an hour of driving. Third, although I like Disciple and Skillet, yes, Nightwish is still better.

Following God, even in minor things. That's a reasonable lesson to learn.

Chains

“It's been so long/I can't remember when
I first put on these chains I'm wearing/or how it all began
I used to dream/I would dream of living life so free
But I've been locked down for so so long/these chains are a part of me”

- “Broken Chainz”, Kingsonz

A few weeks ago, I wrote on “the power of words”. By attending Shift, I've become aware of how just being aware of something can change its affect on your life or your reaction to its stimulus in your life. One of the ideas expressed in the Foursquare church I visited was the simple power of the spoken word to break patterns and habits. It makes some sense, but that one guy who talks to himself in the mirror every day seems a little over the top. And James 3 notwithstanding, I'm not always sure that merely saying stuff changes life in a meaningful way.

Several years ago at a Joe White campus outreach, I was given a single chain link. More than five years later, I can't remember the sentiment intended to be anchored to that object, but I've carried it on my keychain since. I think it was something like “giving your will over to Jesus as a slave and following Him singlemindedly” or something. A good sentiment, I suppose. Sometime in the last month or so, manipulation of my keychain swiped the link off into my jacket pocket, evading my notice for a couple weeks.

And I don't want to let them go
They're the only way of life that I really know
I know there's something more but this is comfortable
And even though there's pain, it's predictable
I just don't know what I will do
Without these chains, how will I make it through?

Chains...I've felt locked up in my life for a while. Sometimes past mistakes haunt me, with voices in my head belittling my worth. Sometimes it's my own thoughts casting dismal visions of my future. Whatever it is, it feels like my life is held down by heavy weights sometimes.

I want to be set free & walk out in the Son
I want to take these shackles off my feet so I can run
But I'm so afraid of the unknown that is to come

I have some friends who have been associated with AA. One well-known characteristic of AA is the “sobriety chips” given out for increasing durations of sobriety. Recovering alcoholics often carry their most recent chip with them to remind them of their new way of life and their vulnerability to old temptations. Hold that thought (tangible reminder of spiritual condition) for a moment.

Over the last six months, I've been pointedly and purposefully working through stuff in my life. While I don't have a “duration of sobriety” to give me a metric of progress, the indicators I've been watching in my life definitively show that all the hard work has been worthwhile and effective. As part of my journey, I completed a “Step Study”, which focused on each of the 12 steps, giving room for discussion and methods for implementation. The study was long, starting in late summer and finishing just before Christmas. The last night, as a measure of our progress, our leader had us write down things we no longer wanted and burn them in the parking lot. Fire is great and cathartic and all that. As we kicked ashes of dead things into a snowbank and turned to leave, our leader stopped each of us, dropped something into our hand, then walked on.

Turning the object over in my fingers, I found it to be a bronze circle, with the simple word “Celebrate” on one side and the phrase “Living Life Centered On 12 Steps” on the reverse. It's my very own chip! You know, for such a simple object previously below my awareness, I'm really proud of that silly little thing. It goes with me almost everywhere in my pocket, and occasionally finds its way into my hands when they're bored.

Why do I carry it? Because it reminds me. My chains are gone. All the baggage, the guilt, the expectations, they're not mine to carry. I shed all that stuff. At least, a big part of it. I'm not chained to my past, my old patterns, or my old results. Through prayer and lots of hard work, the heavy stuff is gone. It doesn't weigh me down any more and I can walk as a free man. I am who I am today, and can walk tall and in confidence of that fact.

Some days, I manually index my keyring and miss the chain link. Then the solid metal “clunk” of my Shift chip reminds me that I don't need the chains, I have my actual life. I'm free of my old stuff and can go on to live my life the way it was intended to be, not the way my past tried to lock me into. The old darkness is familiar and well-worn, but just doesn't fit who I am any more.

But some days it feels like it was all a dream,
'Cause I can still hear my chains calling out for me,
And sometimes it feels like I'm wandering,
And I start to long for the dark again,
And I doubt & distrust your promises,
But you're always right there with me,
And when I fall you pick me back up again

I love this song. I think I've listened to it twice a day (on average) since the week before Christmas. It's totally outside my usual musical style, but the words describe my life uncannily well. Check out these men (from my church) and their story:

BROKEN CHAINZ- LIVE AT FLATIRONS COMMUNITY CHURCH
(song starts at 3:50)

Chains vs. Change: Icons of paradigms in my life, past and future

Stories, Music, and a little "Beat Beat Pound"

A few weeks ago, an old friend of mine spoke at Cru. After completing her undergraduate education last May, she spent the summer learning about people and God and herself in the outdoors. The point of Lindsey's talk was that the important things in life are stories and relationships. As an illustration, she asked "What is at the center of the universe?" The "good Christian kids" said God, while the incurable nerds posited that it depended on how you chose the coordinate system. Lindsey instead suggested that the universe centers around relationship, showing a diagram with the three members of the Trinity at the corners of an equilateral triangle, and lines showing relationship all going through the center, marked simply "God".

Here's a story. It's not mine this time, but rather someone from my church. As typically expected of young people, after finishing college, she started work. It seems, though, that she felt called to something else. Being musically talented, she decided that she wanted a career in music instead. Andrea quit her job, and started working for herself as a singer/songwriter. After recruiting band members, she started opening for other people. I saw quite a few emails/Facebooks for "...opens for So-and-So...please come!"

The same night, I was able to attend Andrea's CD release party at a little bar downtown. With the frenetic pace of my life, it is rare that I have an evening to sit and relax any more. Tonight I was able to hang out with a few friends, hear some great music (three bands for a cover charge...not half bad!), and just think.

Facebook is always an interesting window into people's lives. When people take the time to distill their personality, habits, and other stuff into a few short sentences, they seem to have two outcomes. Usually they give a very rough approximation (unhelpful, not useful), but once in a while something neat emerges. So it is with a friend of mine. Long ago and far away, my family and her family went to church together. Since then, our lives have taken different paths, but I stay loosely in touch.

In the "Favorite Music" section, after a short list of genres, my friend mentioned rap and hip-hop. Recognizing that as slightly out of character, I kept reading. While I forget the exact wording, she discerned that music tells stories. They may be nice stories, or they may be ugly stories. Sometimes we don't see them as stories at all, but there are stories nonetheless. In this case, rap and hip-hop generally tell stories less than pretty.

A couple months ago, I started learning the bass guitar to add variety to my life. I didn't know a) how much learning I had to do or b) the life lessons I was to learn by playing bass. So it turns out that especially for a beginner, bass solo is boring to listen to. Thankfully, a couple of my roommates play acoustic guitar, which helps. While jamming with my friend Josh, he made a statement that would enlarge my perspective. We were talking about playing music and listening to other people play when he simply said "You know, music is meant to be collaborative. It's not meant to be just for you."

Let me add yet another twist to the puzzle. In church, I've been getting more involved in my small group. A few weeks ago, we spent small group time sharing testimonies. Why? Because stories are for sharing. Jesus used stories, calling them parables. We are still learning from them today. Stories are not for repeating to yourself. They are for sharing. Like music!

Last summer, I got a random phone call from another church friend. The voicemail I get from Mike says "Hey man. Do you like rock concerts? My friend's in a band, and they're coming to town tonight. We can get free tickets. Want to go?" Well, I like most rock. Classic rock and some modern rock is probably near the top of my favorite music list.

What I didn't know was that what Mike called "rock" was more like "screamo"...somewhere more emo than punk. And for some reason, most of the bands I go see feel that copious profanity adds color to their performance. So we're watching some dude with longish hair and girl pants screaming into a mike about something or other. Part of me wanted to laugh at just how weird/bad the music seemed. The higher-level part of me saw through the yelling and the posing and saw courage and sensitivity. The kids on stage, as different as their music might be and as angry as they might seem, had enough courage to get up in front of a bunch of strangers and dump out their feelings.

How many church-going people would feel comfortable sharing their deep emotions like that even with their friends? And how can you judge that the kid screaming from the stage is farther from God than the churchgoer who merely puts up a pretty front at church? Jesus' label of "white-washed sepulchers" may not seem so far off-target after all.

Some people tend to be a little bit snobbish about their music. "Classical and hymns!" was a popular cry in a church I used to attend. It seemed like electric guitar was contemptible to a classical guitar player I used to know. (distortion or effects were over-the-top in case you were wondering) It always subliminally annoyed me. I finally realized that it annoyed me because their discrimination easily translated into a similar thing with people: that some people were worth listening to while others weren't. I believe this statement to be patently false. You may not prefer some styles. You may not prefer a lot of musical styles. Some music even seems to have no redeeming value. But still, it's someone telling a story.

Ever known people who like to talk to you, but are just annoying? Maybe I'm someone like that to you, who knows. Nevertheless, God loves them like He loves you. By the same token, some music doesn't do much for me, I must admit. Nevertheless, the music still has a story to tell that some people will appreciate. I think it's unfair to shut someone down and criticize them as a person for being "a different style" than you.

One last similarity, then I promise that I'll stop. :-)

When I was younger, I was a prolific reader. The library was my friend, and hundreds of pages per week was easy to read. I've had the opportunity to read a wide spectrum of books and magazines, from classic novels (Les Miserables, Tale of Two Cities, etc.) to current fiction (Harry Potter was my companion this last Christmas break), and so on.

Some claim that the average creativity and musical skill has declined. Supposedly, classical music was the best music ever made, and everything since has been degrading. I would make the same claim about literature. I think that current writing is less well done than in the past. However, all the classical composers and authors are dead. They're long gone. (and if you stand over Beethoven's grave, it's said that you can hear his 5th symphony playing backwards...his body is decomposing) Are we so habit-bound and closed-minded that we would ignore what is currently being made, in song and in word, for that which is just handed down to us? Will you ignore the up-and-coming writers that work on the school newspaper and the singer/songwriter at the open mike down the street because they aren't a great name? Will you stifle their progress with no encouragement, reducing their chances of future greatness for your own comfort and unwillingness to try something new?

So make your own music and write your own words. "We are the music makers and we are the dreamers of dreams", as quoth by O'Shaughnessy in his "Ode". Support your local musician, read a new book. And lest you think I'm talking without the walking, as my time frees up after school, I'm trying to find a regular bass gig. I've also started learning acoustic guitar, just for a change. And I'm writing this so you can read it.

(obligatory plug) If you want somewhere to start, check out:
Andrea Ball http://www.myspace.com/ballandrea
Josh Wilson http://joshwilson.org
Josh Holloran http://www.myspace.com/joshholloranmusic