Hillsong United

Laura and I arrived at the Pacific Colliseum at the PNE in Vancouver an hour early thinking we’d stop for a bite before the concert.  Already the parking lots were filling and people were streaming in large groups to the grand old building.

‘Let’s go directly there. They’ll have hot dogs there, “ Laura said.  “This is where all the big rock concerts played when I was younger. Vancouver didn’t have Rogers Arena then so the Beatles played here.”

Even though we had tickets the entrance line to pass security snaked around the building. It was a lovely sunny day with a fresh breeze off the nearby harbour.

What I first saw was colour.  Black people, white people, brown people, yellow people and red people were a poly mixture through the line and in the crowds. It became even more pronounced inside as we stood in the White Spot burger line watching the world pass through the entrance.  For those who speak so much about diversity and call everyone else racist,  usually the aetheists who use such words as a weapon, or the rainbow crowds, they’re usually white or white and brown but not at all like this incredible phenomena of true inclusivity. .  Christianity is the religion of the earth.  I see Muslims dominated by the Middle East beards and black curly hair with spattering of others in their midst.  The only place I saw such a polyglot of colour and people for Jews was in Tel Aviv one of the truly international cities in the world.  Asia is dominated by yellow.  Whole countries and continents I travel to are homegenously one or two colours and distinctly tribal. 

Vanilla is becoming another flavour in God’s great ice cream stand.  My favourite.  

The Phillipinos were out in the force here.  I shouldn’t be surprised.   Christian music is grand Karaoke.  Christians love to sing.  Our gospel says ‘in the beginning was the word’.  It’s scientific in it’s accuracy now we know the vibrations of the strings. Scientists even have looked to music of the spheres for their metaphors of life.  Here we lifted up our voices in song and praise.

Hillsong United burst into Christian awareness for me in the last 20 years.  Whenever I’d attend a singing church where the Bible is prominent I’d see a Hillsong in the repertory the congregation sang along too.  Alive, and present and repetitive, words taken directly from the Holy Bible, these Australians from down under simply got it right. It’s mesmerizing. It’s enchanting. It’s uplifting.  

Now I was sitting eating a burger and fries wondering how I ever got tickets so high. Almost needed a Sherpa to get here..  Thought I lost Laura half way up.  Began thinking of faith healing looking back at her wheezing and staggering up the mountainous stairs. I was praying my knee would hold out and I’d not spill my fries.  All around me people weren’t thinking of their stomachs but  celebrating God with song and praise.  It was so loud.  I’d arrived in heaven on the Baptist clouds with ten thousand voices singing praise, angels among them, the lamb in the room and my knee and my back hurt and  I was hungry.  I chowed down not waiting for Laura to do the final bit of this Grouse Grind.  Our God is a loving God.

In the dark  I’d found the flashlight on my iPhone and found our seats. Others were using their iPhone flashlights like candles like waving them about in the air. This beautiful pink haired woman was dancing in her seat beside me. Young people everywhere. Exuberant. It then occured to me we were definitely the very oldest people in the stratosphere.  There was no Emergency Oxygen and we really were dependent on faith and love. 

 This adorable toddler was being passed back and forth between mom and dad in front of me.  I could see the stage filled with light and love between the upraised arms.  Laura collapsed in the chair beside me. Another young woman beside her was dancing in the aisle. Behind us more beautiful young people celebrating God.

White Spot makes a great Original burger. The fries were delicious.  I know I have demons.  Laura offered me vinegar. We sat in a little huddle of delighted gluttony knowing it’s alright.  God loves us human. I had this huge Coca Cola too.  All around me people are dancing in the aisle and singing praise and the music is loud.  The whole arena is rocking.

Okay now I’ve eaten what next my being is saying. There fries are decadent.  There’s a tug inside me I notice too. A bit of me already wants to leave. This isn’t good. Sure sign I’m in the presence of God.  Not all that cozy warm feeling. Always some awe.  Laura is happy and sated beside me like a young seal. .  She’s already tapping her foot and moving to the music, a big smile on her face. She normally doesn’t like crowds. But my demons are acting up. I keep them as pets.  Silly of me.  Pride what it is. I’ve got them now telling me to get out. But it’s not claustrophobia or the masses of humanity around me. It’s the love. I’m unloveable. I’ve got bits of shame and guilt that keep me apart from fellow Christians. No one can understand me. I’m not loveable.

Yet that’s what they’re singing and the girl beside me is smiling. Laura said that the girl beside her would accidentally hit her as she danced and stopped and rubbed Laura’s  shoulder.  Spooky people.

I started to sing along. I was standing with my hands in the air thinking of Willi and Anita Gutowski and how much they’d love this. We’ve sung so much gospel together. Among the great worship teams of Saipan we sang these Hillsong themes.  I thought of Philip Ney and his love for Jesus and his campaign to save the unborn babies, crying on his knees begging Jesus to come. I thought of Bernie calling “Holy Spirit Come”.  Of course I was crying. I’m a fool. I felt like David dancing and singing for the Lord.  Hillsong opens that channel. The demons were silent in side me, anxious. Nice change for me to calm and the demons to be anxious.  Brought to mind C.S. Lewis’ Screwtape Letters.  All the addictions and idolatries and rationalization and pride began to quiet down. I still wanted to escape but the love was holding me. I thought of my Mom beside me kneeling by my bed as a child, the her sister and her  singing praise. I looked beside me and Laura was standing and singing along.

I wouldn’t have been surprised if we had all broke into Kum Ba Ya. It was that strong a revival. Took me back to when we sang They will know we are Christians by our Love.  I’m taking pictures with my iPhone and the Australian singer on stage looks to me like Weird Al Yankovich.  I realize everyone is young and I’m feeling young. My knee and back don’t hurt and I’m dancing, dancing in my seats.  It took me a song to realize the words were flashed above the stage. I thought all these people around me had them memorized.  I’d just been to the Carrie Underwood concert and the young girls all knew the words and were singing along. This was better. I love cheat sheets. Half the reason I’m Anglican is they accept the demented in their midst and give us all weekly instructions.  We’re the people of the book.

I start reading the words and singing along.  It’s magnificent. I love the love.  I’m still crying. Tears flowing down my cheeks. Laughing.  EVeryone around me is too. The children are the best. They are there with their parents having a heck of time. Gilbert would love this. He’d be barking and chasing his tail. It’s that good a feeling. I’ve not known anything like it.  So much love. So many people singing. This is what heaven is like. It’s a piece of it here and now. A preemptive show.  A preview.  

I’m not so bad. God doesn’t make junk. Right now I can repent. I can get up tomorrow and do a better job. I love when they put up the word battles and say that I don’t have to fight alone. I’m always fighting evil alone. Struggling against the bad bits of government and the evil forces, the Satanic, the cruel and unkind, the mean and the lost and unbelieving. I’m always offering hope and being told there is none. I’m saying look at the light and being told it’s only for me and not for them. 

I’m reaching out a hand to stop a person dying and they’re spitting at me. I’m trying to help a stranger and they’re biting the hand that feeds. I’m struggling every day with adversity. I’m turning people back from the grave. I’m feeling like I’m standing on a cliff pushing individual lemmings back while the whole mass threatens to take us all over the side. I’m older too and I feel the burden of decades of being with the sick and forlorn. I’m the sinner among sinners.  I live in the hotel of God. 

 Now it’s the fentanyl epidemic. Now it’s the easier softer way of the government promises. Now it’s the ‘free drugs’.  I have a demon of self pity that eats at my happiness. Right now he’s not sticking up his head. Saint Michael is there and he’s protecting me even from my naughty friend self pity. 

I feel good and whole and wanted and loved and we’re all smiling and the music is fine and the room is rocking and the words are straight from the Bible. Promises after promises and I dont feel afraid.  My body feels like it does in a hot tub. I just feel my arms raised and my face in the biggest grin. And the woman beside me with pink hair is laughing with her friend.  We’re all laughing.  

Are you ready!!!!!!!!

Yes

Jesus.

Yes.

I buy swag on the way out. I like my t shirt. It says “There is another in the fire”.  Thank you Jesus.

‘That was church on steroids’ says Laura when we’re back at my green mini pulling out of the parking lot heading back to the burbs. “ I loved all the voices. “. She’s glowing. I’m glowing. It’s a lovely ride home. That night I sleep like a baby.