Independence Day
People keep asking me what I’m doing for the 4th of July, and truly I don’t know. This is the first Independence Day in twelve years that I have not been at Cornerstone Festival in Illinois. I hadn’t thought much about it until I tried to remember what it is that I normally do on July 4th.
Normally, I’d be playing or getting ready to play one of the various stages set up in the middle of a cornfield in Illinois among 20,000 people. Maybe I’d be sitting at our merch booth yelling over the noise in order to have a deep conversation about missions. Maybe I’d be trying to figure out if I could get a ride to someone’s hotel in town so that I could take a shower. Maybe I’d be checking the schedule to decide which half of my friend’s set I’ll miss to see half of my other friend’s set. This year I don’t know what I’ll do. Maybe I’ll catch up on some reading as they say.
I don’t miss Cornerstone like I thought I would. It used to be my favorite week of the year. It was the one week that all of my friends from the road were in one place at the same time. It was always Cool hand Luke’s biggest show of the year in terms of numbers. We got to have so many amazing conversations and see God do some truly amazing things. Some of my fondest memories are from that cornfield in the blazing sun.
With each passing year, though, Cornerstone has been a little more disappointing to me. Some of it is to be expected I suppose. As I got older, I was less excited about seeing any of the bands. My friends stopped coming to Cornerstone or their bands broke up. More and more generator stages cropped up and it wasn’t special to say you were playing there anymore. The sense that the festival existed to glorify Christ fell to the sense that is existed to break even financially. I saw compromise everywhere. I saw vanity everywhere. I heard bad music everywhere. I know that I was jaded to some degree. I know that it may have always been that way and I just grew out of my naivety. And I know that ultimately, I’m just getting old.
Last year was the first year that CHL didn’t get asked to play an official stage at Cornerstone. That means you don’t get paid and you have to pay to get in. They said it was a fluke and apologized. They comped my tickets and I played a generator stage. I announced that it would be Cool Hand Luke’s last Cornerstone.
This year I tried to play under my own name on an official stage, and I just wasn’t wanted. That was the ultimate disappointment in Cornerstone. It hurt me, to be honest. It hurt me because I felt like I play music to point people toward Christ. I felt that it was unfair that I had paid my dues and that I was playing music for the right reasons but Cornerstone wouldn’t have me because I don’t sell as many tickets as someone else who doesn’t really care about the point of the festival.
Then it hurt because I realized that I’m older and my moment in the sun is passed. I realized that my playing wouldn’t sell any more tickets for Cornerstone, and it hurt my pride. Whether or not Cornerstone’s reasons for not having me play were right or wrong, I do not know. It’s of very little consequence. It’s also ridiculous that I should presume that just because I had played there before that I should be entitled to play there again.
Over the past few months, I’ve been learning about the concept of sonship. I’ve been just starting to see a glimpse of what happened at the cross beyond the forgiveness of sin. I’m learning who I am in Christ and what it is to be a co-heir with Christ. I’m learning what it means that I died on the cross and the life I know live, I live to Christ. I am not bound by who I was. I am no longer a slave to sin. Not only are my sins forgiven—I don’t have to live that way anymore. These words are not new to you or me, but they mean something different to me now. I am excited about the cross in a new way that I didn’t even know existed—a way I can’t put into words.
Is it any coincidence that the time in my life that my pride is stinging because my musical status is not what it once was, the time that I’m missing out on what used to be the most important event on earth to me is the time that God is truly showing me who I am in Him? It gets harder and harder to book shows. I hardly sell any merch now. I feel too old for digital releases and social networking. But lately, it doesn’t matter much. I’m excited about the gospel of Jesus Christ. I’m excited that I won’t outgrow it, that I’ll only grow deeper in my understanding of it. There is freedom in being an adopted son of the King. There is freedom in the righteousness of Christ that is now mine. This may be the best Independence Day ever.
