Humanity First. (Part 2)

I spent the vast majority of my adolescence and young adulthood in a band. Overall, I look back with fondness over those years -- I met plenty of wonderful people (including my marvelous wife, Hannah) and crafted a heart full of fond memories. However, I reflect on all of this with some remorse as the season progresses.

This autumn marks a bittersweet anniversary.  You see, I was in a Christian band called The Avenger. We broke up about ten years ago in the fall. We eventually re-formed off and on, but it was never the same. Through our history, our group's interactions and motivations were colored with religious pretenses, and this particular dynamic played a role in our demise. In hindsight, I feel a sense of regret for losing sight of the humanity of my bandmates in the pursuit of holiness, or zeal, or passion. I should have been a better friend, embracing the humanity of my colleagues. (I discussed this Humanity First perspective in my last post... read it!)

There's a saying about losing sight of the forest for the trees. Sometimes, I think believers lose sight of the human for the Christian. Looking back, I realize that the people in my world needed an advocate, a person ardently championing their strengths and celebrating their virtues. A person cheering them on and deeply hoping for their betterment. They didn't need another pastor.

This frustration is a theme that has carved its path through virtually all of my musical experiences. I've been in many bands, and each one was unduly burdened with the expectation of faith adherence. We spent so many nights in The Avenger, arguing about smoking cigarettes or making out with girlfriends. We debated the rights and wrongs. We ostracized otherwise-valued friends. We detonated our connections with one another in pursuit of righteousness. Tragically, This pattern didn't end with The Avenger -- it followed me for years.

The drummer for The Avenger was my grade-school best friend, Ben Evans. I lost actual years of our friendship to a pathetic, legalistic line in the sand. That's not okay. It'll never be okay. I never want to do that to someone again.

I realize it's not fashionable to regret things... but I regret that. I feel sincerely disappointed about how religious obligation has skewed and strained my friendships with musicians for the past decade. It may seem petty to ponder such things, but the facts are simple... real people got mistreated; real relationships were fractured. All of these wounds were accumulated in the pursuit of God's hypothetical favor.

So, on the tenth anniversary of The Avenger's dissolution, I'm letting go. I'm letting go of the mindset that burns down friendships for the sake of the intangible. I'm letting go of my right to scrutinize and embracing the human in front of me instead.

BONUS -- Look up the album "To Cast Ourselves Aside" on Spotify. That's us. 

Thank you for reading On Letting Go, a blog about dealing with the wounds of the past. If you're looking for a little background on what inspired this blog, check out the introduction.  Click here for information on how you can find mental health resources for yourself or a loved one.