Parachute Part Two

When I reflect on any given Parachute experience, I am drawn into reflecting on Parachute pre-Mystery Creek. For all those who are unfamiliar with what I am rabbiting on about, let me explain.

Parachute was not always where it is today, at the Mystery Creek compound, just outside Hamilton. In fact, it has had a few destinations in its history. However, the place where Parachute went through its maturation stage was at Totara Springs, near "it doesn't" Matamata. It was here in much more rural surroundings, something looking like the setting for the "Glastonbury" Festival in the UK that the Parachute really opened.

This is where it gained that cool factor, not merely for what was taking place, but for where it was taking place. It had character for so many city slickers who were looking to "rough it" (I mean Main Stage was a grassy area inhaled by a huge grassy banked amphitheater). It had that "Kitchy" factor where a culture was created through the vehicle of the event, which meant that if you missed going to the whole weekend, you missed the event.

Today, when I reflect on the Parachute enjoyment factor, I do not judge it by such criteria (now to be fair, I have heard that this change was encouraged by outside factors), nor am I concerned about missing the culture post-midnight.

What I am concerned about missing are the acts of note, and my/ our excitement, even for our 15 year old son, who did not experience Totara-Parachute comes down to who is heading our way from shores overseas to headline the evening times of exuberance. While I am a big fan of many of NZ's own, such as Mum's Dollar and Rapture Ruckus, since I am pretty sure they are going to be at each Festival, my anticipation leading up to each event is centered on who is getting the big bucks to perform for my audience of one.

Therefore, it is with this in mind, that I am thankful for the Christ-centered, God-glorifying perspective of the majority of the big acts at the Chute 09, which meant that not only was I thankful that they could hold a handy tune, but I was thankful that they also directed me away from the man-filled stage before me, to the stage in the sky.

Let me digress about the evenings a little... OK, maybe a lot!

While the family who forced 5 performed late Friday night, NZ acts dominated Main Stage Friday night. While I think Mum's Dollar are rather dapper, I missed them, however, I was blessed, once again with "Pre-Millennial" Rapture Ruckus. While his sound is definitely baseline, it is His lyrics, message, and persona that reflect on someone who has been graced from on high, but also someone who is seeking to grasp in greater reality what it means to be saved! I don't know the ins and outs of his story, but the gravity of his rescue seems to have cast an ever-lengthening shadow of the cross of ALL grace on his life. It was good to hear some new sounds from the man, with his sound ever maturing and diversifying, with his new number about "holding on" underscoring this for me.

Saturday was... HOT! Therefore, it was a pleasure to find Saturday evening after the horrendous Hamilton heat.

What stood out for me about the "Force of 5" was not so much their music or stage craft, although both were thoroughly rigorous. Maybe a better way of putting it is that one moment at the end of their performance cast a shadow over the reflections in my mind. The Force had just finished their set and everyone had enjoyed what was presented, but then one member stepped forth to the microphone.

After spending some 60 minutes being contextualized by this group, the sense of what was going to happen next was palpable. Surely another moment for the groupies to die for! However, no more histrionics would be taking place, but a simple call for everyone to take off their hats as we were going to pray. "Was this guy being funny?" This was the perplexed response of many who were trying to reconcile what they had viewed with what they were now hearing. Yes, this band member was deadly serious as he called on people to have some reverence!

Now before you play the Pharisee card and extol the virtues of cultural contextualization, please think about why this band member took this call to action. Obviously such a motivation was to honour God, and as such, although some might want to culturally condemn such an action, as we live in such a culture where this call still resonates with the majority, knock yourself out!

The reason that I believe many were unsure about this band member's call was that many had made the superficial mistake of connecting spiritual depth with the sound of one's musical taste and the timidity of one's personality (I hear Mark Driscoll calling). Family Force 5 affirmed that while they were hard-core rockers, the core of their commitment to Jesus was above all earthly associations... respect.

To be honest, the next act on Main Stage was not one that I had heard a great deal of, apart from their radio air-time. In other words, our son did not have their album. While I had to chuckle about the "Hollywood style" of the lead wearing his glasses in the middle of the night (I am sure the lights were powerful. They must have lessened in intensity when he took them off later), they had a solid sound that was pleasing for all who stayed and listened. I know, this sounds like a rather "limp" description, but I have to admit that while enjoying their sound, I was not taken captive. This does not indicate that they were unimpressive, but it does indicate that the sound did not grasp my soul and yell "I'm Yours"!

However, what did grab me and remains an abiding memory of Kutless is a moment when the quest or search for significance that so many seek to find at the end of a guitar pick, was put into abject perspective. For many who attend Parachute, some young and not so young, the search for significance is an idolatrous affair, a fix that can only be found in One, which is encouraged by the very context of thousands of individuals placing all their attention on those at the front.

The result can be that, for many, as the leader singer of Kutless admitted about himself in earlier days, if he could just have played in front of such an audience, fulfillment would have found its destination. Sadly many search for such failed fulfillment, thinking they will find manna from heaven, only to be fooled by the mirage of their machinations, still left with this God-shaped emptiness (see Pascal) needing to be filled.

Without blinking, and talking from experience-laden reality, this man pointing to Christ, made clear that what he thought he was searching for only made him more lost than found, and like the younger brother in the Prodigal Story (see Tim Keller's book, The Prodigal God), with such realizations in hand, they returned to the only source.

The fact that this is what stood out for me, indicates the significance of this moment!

Time was beginning to expire as night had truly made its home. However, there was still time for "Dave", a true New Zealand icon to warm our hearts with the evident grace that was never too late for Mr Dobbyn.

Even before Dave Dobbyn was stopped in his tracks by the Unstoppable One, he truly understood how to capture a nation with words and sound. I know we have our national anthem, but the words and sound of Loyal are sure to reduce a "kiwi" to longings for home or their national team. I can remember, as we would play this song in Adelaide, all that New Zealand meant to us as a family would be filtered through and captured in one's present existence, at least until its refrain became silent. I confess that on many occasions I would be viewing men in black jersey's running around after an odd-shaped object, carrying the consciousness of a small nation on the bottom of the earth.

Who can remember Dave's last Parachute, when the heaven's opened on him, in a different context, with rain upon rain. At that time, it had just been Dave and his guitar. That was then and this is now (Just to give you a little insight into what is happening as I write this. I have been listening to a CD, which has just finished, and the next CD has come on, with the first track being "Loyal" by Dave Dobbyn - Freaky!), and Dave had returned with band-in-toe.

Now that Dave had been found, his new songs seem to be imbued with a sense of our ultimate Home, and he would not disappoint all those willing to wait for midnight. I confess to admitting that I think I prefer Dave, unaccompanied, acoustic in hand. This is not to say that his performance did not "go off"' and finish off the night on a grand note for a New Zealand partisan crowd, but it is to affirm that there is something about Dave that does not need any encouragement.

There is something beautifully honest about the simplicity of the music of Dave Dobbyn in such a context. His sound is the gentle breeze in the warmth of the day, the slowing moving river engulfed in the middle of Autumn (Fall) by the changing confines, or the maturation of a fine red, left for years of solitude, to burst forth with depth and newness of life (I'm gonna cry).

Whether it be the extent of the raspy range of his voice, or the leading of his guitar, seeing Dave Dobbyn perform in self, is like seeing a red rose, removed from its foliage that has covered its beauty. Yes, the bouquet is impressive, but pull the rose out and view its disposition with unopposed clarity, your wonderment will grow. You may even wonder why it needed such suffocation.

I confess to thinking this way of the music of Dave Dobbyn (This sounds rather naff... comparing Dave to roses). Nevertheless, after continuing to encourage my tiring wife to the finish line of midnight, I was blessed not only by the music of our country, but by the music that has become our faith.

It was home to bed, leaving our son to enjoy the frivolities of the night. Sunday night was on the horizon, with The Dave Crowder Band and Casting Crowns ready to express.

Sunday Night at Parachute is worship night, which is more a reflection of a genre of music than an attitude of the soul. I confess that the older I get, the more I am intoxicated with lyrics. The more Christ-centered and God-glorying the lyrics, the more passionate I am about pursuing.

Sadly, some groups who have entered Main Stage have the sound of kings, but the lyrics of fools, and this can no better exemplified in the Christians scene than those groups desirous of worship status.

However, not tonight Josephine, as I can affirm that Sunday night was a marathon for me as both The Dave Crowder Band and Casting Crowns sought to put God on display, calling on Parachute to look up.

While I could digress a great deal more about the connection Dave Crowder gains with the audience through his "hokey" hometown Texas appeal and the excellence of their sound, I return to Kansas, I return to the lyrics. As I sat on the outskirts of Main Stage, with wife and young son in hand, I could not help but respond to such encouragement and worship my Creator with the words that reflected on the awesome reality of our God, and the sovereign grace that has been extended to the guilty-redeemed. To be sure, this was something that I expected, but my heart was warmed with a view of the divine... surely a time affirming His worth-ship!

Finishing off Sunday Night were the Casting of Crowns. This may also be an apt way of describing the goal of this group's performance, for it is not about the excellence of their music that they desire listener's to focus upon, but the One whose casting Crown of Thorns was not the end of the story.

While Casting Crowns are a little more biographical and paint more of a narrative with many of their numbers. it would not be a stretch for me to simply say, "ditto", in describing the impact of Casting Crowns in relation to Dave. However, it would be remiss of me not to describe the intensity of their message, because it is this component that remains a powerful reminder of their time at Parachute.

While Parachute had wanted the front man (I forget his name) to preach before the group performed, he/ they decided that they would preach throughout their act, which was more natural. Now while I must admit that I would have liked to hear more of their tracks, each sermonette introducing the coming piece, drew in those who were listening, refusing them the option of listening from afar, and thereby missing possible divine moments of grace, whereby lasting impact might come about. These were not glib moments where one had to listen to spiritual sloganeering, these were moments that flowed out of the road less travelled by the chosen few.

Casting Crowns would bless us again on Monday morning, but this seems like an afterthought in Planet of the Parachute.

There we have it, another Parachute done and dusted, and we truly were, as the temperature-induced onslaught of the weekend had reached its goal, sending weary music junkies back to rehab at home.

How would I rate Parachute 2009? Based on the criteria that I set before you, it seems that it was a pretty successful event... I would give it about an 8 out of 10... hardly a scientific poll!

As one reads this, one wonders if the excitement in NZ is building for 2010, with talk of the return of the Switchfoot to whip the fervor of the masses.

I will hold my form and wait to see who is coming before I break out the lemonade and sticky buns, and prepare for another pilgrimage to the Tron.

Just before I go, I almost forgot, I do have another criteria for a successful Parachute... Books, cheap books on special... but that is another story!

Until Next Time...