"when i've got the music, i've got a place to go"


i think the most nervous part about this past sunday wasn't the delivery of the announcements or the psalter reading or the prayer or the gospel lesson. while all of those things and my doing them well would contribute to each and every worshiper's experience, it wasn't the execution of those things that would lead to most of my pre-game nausea. not this time. there was a time in my life, not so long ago, that i felt like i was pretty in-tune with the Big Fella and his grand plan. every lesson, every talk, every conversation felt like something that He would approve of in some form or fashion, even if it took a little rationalizing convincing from my end. sure, i would be awash with the butterflies and the migraines that i spoke of last week, but i could almost count on the wonderful release of that tension as soon as i got started with whatever song i would play or whatever message that i would deliver.

chris perry, andy, kiker, others and i have all talked at length about the enormity of being an active spokesperson for, you know, god. we've all talked about the pressure we have felt right before the curtain goes up, acknowledging that something we say may butterfly-effect a person in any number of directions, some good and some bad relative to their relationship with the creator we subscribe to. it was never something that i felt like i was selling, per se, but more representing. here's what i believe in. here's how it's changed my life for the better in my opinion. here are some steps that may be helpful to your own journey. take it with a grain of salt if you'd like. as long as you'd take it, please. there is nothing that i can do in front of any one person that will convince them that my convictions are worth hearing. all i can do is hope that i don't completely turn them off to my opinion being an option for them too. and therein lies the crux. the central point was never the delivery or the after-effects. it was what happened in the meantime, meantime being defined differently to every one i've ever encountered.

for instance, you may not think that the new propagandhi record dropping in three weeks is worth planning your life around. you'd be wrong. you might not think that music should be played loudly. you'd be wrong. you might not think that music should be about any more than love or bruce springsteen or the love of bruce springsteen. you'd be wrong. you might not think that music should challenge you. you'd be wrong. you might not think that propagandhi could change your life. you'd be wrong. but you'd at least think that wasting your time reading my retarded opinions regarding some stupid punk rock band elicited your own thoughts and feelings on the matter, right?

right. so, when i used to work (or got paid for it) for god, i got to the point where i felt like the release of every ounce of nervous energy in my body right before i spoke for Him was His way of saying, "go get 'em, tiger. (or something else supportive that kirsten dunst may say to spiderman)" it didn't always get rid of the migraine, but it did make me feel like i was on the right page. the enormity of the moment had paid off. i was doing what i was supposed to do.

but a lot of time had and has passed since i got paid for god work. the pre-game jitters were still there. that part felt familiar. in the time that had passed, though, i had cussed a lot. spit a lot. yelled a lot. fought a lot. poked a lot. antagonized here enough to warrant two separate comments from two separate senior pastors of humc. made a lot of errors at shortstop. missed a lot of open three-pointers. taken heroes off of my appointment television watch list. with all of these things and more working against me, who knew if god were even paying attention anymore.

and then it happened. i stepped up from my seat in front of the church, introduced myself and i felt the tension go away. just like in the old days. it was smooth sailing from that point forth, save one freudian slip. who wouldn't want to attend a "spaghetti summer". i know i would!

there are all sorts of explanations as to why i felt good and confident and sure that i was speaking for someone other than myself sunday. it could have been the routine of it all, like riding a bike. it could have been gerry's sweater. it could have been all the smiling faces that i could make eye contact with. i am certainly willing to acknowledge any number of scientific and/or psychological reasons exist that would explain my peaceful, easy feeling standing in front of my church a few mornings ago.

i choose to believe it was something spiritual.

i choose to believe it was god.

and i thank Him for being there with me.