Christ Plays in 10,001 places

Yesterday was one of those “take one for the team” days.  I was up at 4:30 AM, at the church office by  6 AM, and on my way home by 1:30 PM. My wife sings in a local acoustic trio and was up for two awards (Female Vocalist and Acoustic Band) in the Rock Erie Music Awards, a local awards show that celebrates the local music scene.  So I grabbed a Red Bull, pressed a shirt, and bent a tie, and headed off to Sherlocks for the pre-show party.

Amy’s band and significant others ended up sharing a stretch limo with Waiting for Never and a rockabilly band, Maddie B. and the Dirty Pickles. Amy reminded me that we had caught Waiting for Never at the Cleveland House of Blues when they opened for Stone Sour.  I vaguely recalled an opening act that sounded like a twenty-car pile up. (I listen to Miles Davis, Coltrane, and Corea to unwind. Amy’s all about metal and hardcore. God, meanwhile, laughs.)

The limo ride was only for a few blocks, but Waiting for Never managed to entertain us with a wrestling match, a few drug references, and a make-shift pole dance on the metal hand rail in the five minutes it took the limo to leave the bar and arrive at the red carpet.

I forgot about Waiting for Never and took in an evening of people watching: musicians and singers filled the hallways and tables dressed in their rock couture, leather, tattoos, and cleavage.  The awards show was several hours long and there was no food to be found. At one point, Amy and I slipped past security and found a vending machine in a remote part of the building. A small bag of chips was passed for a meal. Most chose to numb the hunger pangs and the lame comedian with several trips to the bar.

Late into the evening, the nominations for best Metal/ Hardcore album were announced and Waiting For Never took the stage to accept their award. Their front man accepted the award and made all the usual thank yous. But then another band member stood up to the microphone and apologized for his behavior last year. I don’t know what he did, or when he did it, but the musician believed that this audience in particular deserved and apology. He went on to explain that he was a different man than he was last year. That he had gotten things right with Jesus and that he was on a different path. He wanted us to know that and that he was sorry.

Everyone applauded him as he left the stage as the house band played. And I remembered Jesus tends to show up wherever he wants to show up. In the Gospels, he insinuated himself into the parties of swindlers and the morally loose. I’m not saying the musicians who attended last night were any of those things. But I do think at the end of a long week, and a morning spent sorting through all of our religious hang ups in order to extract a morsel  of pure worship in our churches, that our Savior might enjoy looseninng his tie, and taking in some loud music.