A Rock Named Matthew

I WIELD AN AX AT LEAST ONCE A WEEK. Not the kind you see lumberjacks slinging to bring down timber, or what Mr. Lincoln would swing to hone his rail-splitting skills. We’re talking a piece of wood with polymer pieces, whose only metal are six, thin strings – and when finely tuned and my fingers and wrists are not screeching with hints of arthritis allow me to play guitar in my church’s praise band, Upon This Rock.

Three of us out of our eight-member troupe have been at this for more than 11 years. . The band’s longevity outlives the work of such giants as the Bay City Rollers, Dino, Desi and Billy or any group featuring Boy George. We’ve even been featured on two professionally produce CDs with other local contemporary praise groups. You can’t buy them, but I would be glad to pirate you a copy if you’re so inclined.

We’ve had many venues within our faith house: in the sanctuary, the narthex (fellowship entry area) and today inside a spacious community life center; Sunday evenings, Saturday nights and now a service that parallels our traditional 10:30 a.m. traditional service.

And it’s been a fun, exhilarating and fulfilling ride. There’s no bigger kick than sawing those strings or playing the occasional lead on songs geared to make you think, to feel and to tune into your faith or some aspects of your beliefs.

Along the way, I like to sneak peeks at the congregation while making chord changes, sometimes freelancing funky lead riffs or bowing out while my guitar gently sleeps and the listeners politely sleep. Especially spying my oldest granddaughter, my youngest daughter and my two grandsons; and more recently, my girlfriend and her grandchildren. I wink at them and they return with finger-wave acknowledgment.

Hey, you can’t exactly have a mosh pit during services, no matter how upbeat they might be, right? It is church after all – a place where we need to keep our mouths shut and any expression of joy respectfully contained.

But pardon the expression, church decorum be damned at times.

There’s another spectator out there for whom I always keep an eye peeled. A young man, who along with his older brother and his parents (Mom being the original keyboardist and lead female vocalist), I have been fortunate to watch grow up for many years.

He’s often there for band rehearsal; almost always present for the contemporary service. He “high fives” and hugs each band member like they have just returned from a long journey. His face is a mask of joy and unbridled happiness when he speaks there is no volume control. And you can see it in the sparkle and dance in his eyes.

He has, since birth, what society and science would describe as having “developmental challenges.” But what distinguishes this young man is the upbeat challenge he offers to all who meet him: To be better folks, to overlook shortcomings and see the fundamental decency and potential that we and others cannot envision.

He makes all around him laugh and chuckle; perhaps snare a piece of the past and present to remind us – despite the ugly cards that fate might deal us – that life is good. That there is value in others if you look for it. At the end of worship services at Friedens United Church of Christ, our friend almost always comes up to slap hands while imitating how we play our instruments or vocalize tunes. 

And almost always he loudly proclaims, You rock!!!

No, my young friend, I modestly swing a guitar and offer whatever modest talents I can muster from time to time.

Bless you, your parents and your brother and the widening circle of lives you continue to touch. You are among the scant few who truly rock the rest of us in an often-unsteady world in so much need of those wondrous and much-needed pebbles of laughter, faith and love. 

It's what being alive is all about.