I used to perform music primarily in churches. For many years I would lead people in singing songs about things they claimed to agree with, and at times I felt like I helped them make a genuine connection with the God of the universe.
About a year and a half ago, I sensed that God was calling me away from that, and calling me to use my musical gifts and passions in other ways for the sake of the “kingdom of love”. It’s been a very interesting ride to say the least.
On the Good Side...
On the good side, we started with hardly any material that would work out among the general population, but the vision and songs came shortly thereafter to where I now have about three albums worth of new material (and one live album to show for it). Not all of the material is appropriate for our band, so I end up performing a number of the new songs at coffee houses and open mics as a solo act from time to time.
This has led to making many new friends that I would never have met otherwise. I’ve learned much from them, enjoyed their company, and been an encouragement to them in return at times. I’ve even had the privilege of recording live albums for several of these new friends.
We’ve been surprised at the poor turnout to our shows, but stepping back I see that most people are doing exactly what I’d want to do at the end of a long day or long week - staying home and relaxing. So please don’t feel any guilt about not coming out (but please know that those who have made the effort are deeply and profoundly appreciated).
The Mission
Anyway, our musical mission has been to proclaim the kingdom of love, it’s beauty, it’s characteristics, it’s values, and at times to sing about the contrasts and consequences of those living in opposition to it. And unfortunately, I’ve noticed that many of the ones living in opposition to God’s way are not “unchurched heathen”, but rather self-assured religious types. It’s been sobering and saddening to see people claim the name of Jesus while living nothing like him.
I don’t care what church you go to, what prayer you prayed, what transaction you think you did in order to get into God’s good graces. These days I don’t think God much cares, either. The thing that has mattered all along has been whether or not you’re living according to the way Jesus taught, or to use his analogy, building your house on the rock rather than on the sand.
Yeah, we’re all screwed up, we all come from dysfunctional families that couldn’t help but lead us astray from the start. We’re all in need of some direction, some assistance, some mentoring, and some deep, heart-based changes. And only God can make that come to fruition, but not without our desire and effort. It’s a partnership where we do what we must and he does what only he can do. In time, a new life is born out of the old. Attitudes are altered, instincts re-programmed, and where there was worry, fear, doubt, and negativity, there is now love, joy, peace, and hope.
Jesus talked about how the needy outcasts of society were entering into his kingdom ahead of the religious people. It was both an encouragement to those who already knew their need, and a shame on the those who should have already known better. And that brings me to my story...
The Story
Life has been hard in these economic times. Business has been bad. At times I’ve worried, at times I’ve prayed, and at other times I’ve written songs to work through it. I wrote “All Thumbs Up” to address my fundamental need for hope rather than skepticism. The song “Work My Blues Away” empathizes with anyone who loses their job, is willing to work, but can’t find employment.
Things were looking bleak. I was making efforts to drum up new business, but there really isn’t any of it out there. Debts started to mount, while our oldest daughter is looking to head off to her first year of college away from home... but where will the money come from? Will she have to come home after a month? Hey God - what are you doing here?
In this particular case, he was reminding us that our true hope can only come from him - not from any government loan, not from any particular customer, not from the lottery, or from any other effort where we “take matters into our own hands”. Our hope was in him loving us, not willing to devastate us (though he is free to do so), and willing to rescue us so that we can boast about how great he is, not how crafty and resourceful we are. I can’t speak for you - I only know that this is what he was teaching us in our particular case.
What do you know?
And then what do you know... a government loan did come through. So did a new customer. So did other unexpected money. The next thing you know, I’m on a plane to Utah, and the project is perfectly timed to where we are able to provide exactly what the customer needs at the precise time they need it. And my key resource at this client is also a musician (which provides a great built-in camaraderie). Now some of the debt is started to get repaid, and the outlook is positive that it will continue for a while. Dumb luck? Sorry, I don’t buy that..
On my second trip to Utah I asked to borrow a guitar from my kind friend, and though he was busy, I found several open mics in town and decided to show up and play some of our “kingdom of love songs”. On Tuesday I performed first at Alchemy Coffee Shop, then I headed over to Mo’s Bar & Grill for a rip-roaring session that was one of my most fun experiences ever.
At Mo’s I spent a good deal of time talking to a relatively new resident of Salt Lake City named Bennett. He’s a music lover who has lived all over the place and had a wide range of musical experiences. He has a bit of Joe Cocker in his voice when he wants to, and plays a really mean guitar. He gave me some contact info and recommended an open mic that he goes to on Wednesdays, and before I fell asleep that night I had already found his music page and friended him on Facebook.
On Wednesday I decided to head over to Mestizo’s Coffee Shop, but before doing so I thought I had better listen to some of Bennett’s music online first in case he asked what I thought. I found his YouTube site and enjoyed a few of the tunes, and then I watched a sortakinda comedy video he did...at least, I thought it was going to be a comedy. In it he revealed that he was homeless and described some of what he went through in the frigid October air in Utah. I didn’t know if it was a joke, an empathizing with the homeless, or if it was real.
It was real
I arrived at Mestizo’s and signed in, then found Bennett sitting at a table with his laptop, guitar, and the rolling cart he had the night before. I needed to put a new battery in the guitar I was using, and he was kind enough to help me out. As he was helping me, I asked “what’s up with the homeless shtick?” He responded with the same grace and smile from the night before that yes, he was living in a car that doesn’t run, playing music on the streets for food, and desperately looking for work with no real prospects in spite of a wide range of skills he possessed.
He’s not a drug addict or alcoholic. He doesn’t smoke. He’s not mentally ill. He’s not negative or scary or freaky or anything. He’s a loving human being who had several too many bad breaks and is doing all he can to survive. I didn’t have time to contemplate it too much because they called my name to come and play and I had to quickly tune my guitar and figure out what songs I was going to do.
I opened with “November Sky”, a brooding tune I composed a year ago that ends with the verse:
and if my faith is all I own
coupled with a love refusing to die
I suppose that hope will be enough
to get me through this cold November sky.
I thought of Bennett as I sang it, trying to encourage him and the other in the room to keep hoping no matter how bleak it gets. Next I did a love song for my wife, a recent one that just celebrates the joy of being in love and the healing and acceptance it brings that makes life worthwhile. Then I closed with a newer Delta Twins song called “All Thumbs Up” that describes how I cope by letting God be God and just living in hope.
No, no, no - I’m not in on that great big scheme
It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright - I’m still living the dream
I just take, take, take each day as it comes
And if you ask me how I’m doing, “I’m all thumbs up!”
Bennett heard me play that song at Mo’s the night before, so he quickly grabbed his guitar and played some sizzling lead guitar - it was special. The 20-25 people there seemed to enjoy and appreciate it, too. And then it was Bennett’s turn to play.
He opened with “Never Been To Spain”, a great Three Dog Night classic. He rode the dynamics on that one - soft to LOUD and back again - it was really soulful. And then something even more special happened. He introduced the next song and said it wasn’t going to sound as good it could because it really needs the harmonies that were written for it. And when he started singing it, I could’ve fallen out of my chair - it was “Good Things” by The BoDeans (a Milwaukee band that Joyce and I absolutely love and have seen in concert). And I knew all the words...AND the harmonies.
When he got to the second chorus, I jumped up and joined him. He looked a little shocked that I actually knew the song, much less the harmonies, and then a huge smile came across his face as we sang together:
Haunting love is all that I feel when you’re passing by
Haunting love is all that I see - it’s there in your eyes, so I say
No, no, no - don’t pass me over
No, no, no - don’t pass me by
See - I can see good things for you and I
yeah, good things for you and I.
I just about cried as I was singing it because I was thinking about Bennett’s story and how I longed for him to experience the goodness of God. I sang, I willed, I prayed, I hoped that song for him and with him - “don’t pass me by... I can see good things for YOU and I”. It was one of those musical “moments” that pulls me back onto the stage like a 300 yard drive and a birdie putt beckons a golfer (in spite of the nasty sand wedge shots and slices into the woods).
All We Are Saying
The next performer had a Russian-tinged speaking voice, but the voice of John Lennon sang out from him. He segued from “A Day In The Life” to “Give Peace A Chance”, and encouraged the crowd to join in. I’m trying to sing the high harmonies on it as the entire room is filled with voices crying out for peace, for shalom, for and end to conflict and an embracing of love and justice (not judgment/punishment justice, but the Old Testament meaning of “setting things right” like a broken bone or an unfair action). I was reminded of my friend David Nefesh’s use of the Hebrew phrase tikun olam (“reparing the world”) to describe his (and my and I believe Jesus’) mission.
Then I heard a man who goes by the name Utah Slim sing a song that likened the ugly oil fields of his home state to the raping of a girl, and suggested that no one would normally just stand by and let that happen (and yet we do). I found myself agreeing with him, with them, with this roomful of people ten years ago I would have avoided and condemned as hippies or worse. And yet now I’m sensing the solidarity, the beauty of these people, thinking that maybe like the outcasts of Jesus’ day they were entering the kingdom of God ahead of the overtly religious.
When the Native American named “Jaguar” came up at the end to offer up a closing prayer to the Great Spirit, I sensed it was a holy thing that was happening there at Mestizo’s, and I was privileged to be there. My Baptist upbringing had me analyzing his heartfelt prayer in spite of myself, and I was a little sick that I was glad that I found nothing objectionable. Some old habits die hard.
Jaguar came up to Bennett afterward and inquired more about his situation (they had met previously, and Bennett is why Jaguar came). Jaguar then proceeded to offer some opportunities to Bennett as well as all of his cash. This was God’s economy at work. And though I only had a dollar in my wallet (I always use credit cards when I travel), I did what I could and offered Bennett a ride home to his car. He accepted, and I enjoyed the last few minutes I had to talk with him.
Not for the World
I expect to continue to communicate with him online, and I hope to see him again next time I come to Utah, but one never knows. Even more than that, whether I ever see his face again, I hope and pray that the Great Spirit, the God of the Universe himself, will meet Bennett’s needs every single day, that they will partner together to bring life, beauty, healing, and grace to this scarred world.
And as I drove away I mused on how if I had never followed the calling to stop “singing to the choir” as it were, then I wouldn’t have developed the material or love for playing at open mics and coffee houses, and I would have more likely than not been squandering my evening watching stupid movies and TV shows in my temperature-controlled La Quinta Inn room instead of seeing the kingdom of love thriving in downtown Salt Lake City. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
P.S.
One of the young men at Mestizo's was recording both audio and video for the entire evening. The host of the open mic suggested that Bennett and the video guy get together and maybe do a documentary on his situation. Bennett insisted it not be to garner more support for him, but rather that it be used to encourage other homeless people to not become discouraged, to not give up, and to keep doing what they can until things improve for them. Please pray for the success of this effort.
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