Hard Rock

Beyond Belief – Petra

Rick France 1976, 1993, Arena Rock, Hard Rock , , , , , , ,
Beyond Belief
Petra

In the 1990’s I was once asked, “If you were stranded on a deserted island and could only have one album by Petra, which album would you choose?” For me, Beyond Belief was that album; only because the album Jekyll & Hyde was not released until 2003 and this was a 90’s question. That type of question always confused me though because it always makes me wonder, “How am I going to play that album on this deserted island?” But I digress. Beyond Belief is an awesome album with great songs from start to finish but there is that one song that triggers those special memories regarding youth camps.

Promised Land Bible Church was a non-denominational church and as a result we did not have access to the normal youth camps that drew teens from every church in the state of that particular denomination. So we had to improvise. Being that I had come out of the Wesleyan Church, which had extremely strict rules at camp here in the south regarding mixed bathing (girls and guys swimming together), shorts and for that matter pants period for the girls, a couple of my friends who were youth pastors for two of the larger Wesleyan youth groups at that time here in Georgia were starting to think outside the box and organize their own camp. When I caught wind of this I contacted Billy Ginn of Northside Wesleyan Church and Greg Moore of Winder Wesleyan Church about joining in on the adventure. For several years our three church youth groups had some pretty awesome times and not just with these camps, but lock-ins, Atlantafest and many other events.

One of the camps we did had the theme “I Believe” and I was in charge of t-shirt design that year and came up with this idea involving the song “Creed” off of Beyond Belief. Being a musician I did not want to break any copyright laws so since email, texts and twitter did not exist at the time, I thought I would send a letter to Petra requesting permission to use the lyrics of the song. Petra responded by saying something like, “Have at it – it’s the Apostle’s Creed.” After the “duh” moment had passed, I designed a t-shirt that had a scroll on it with the words from the song “Creed”; because theirs did rhyme and flow a little better than the original Apostle’s Creed.

I cannot say for sure if the 1993 camp was the actual “Creed” t-shirt camp, but it stands out in my memory thanks to Jesse Marescalco. That year our camp was just outside of Dahlonega, GA at Camp Glisson. With its beautiful waterfall and lake it was one of my favorite places to take LightForce for retreats and camps. We had baptisms at the foot of those falls on more than one occasion and we watched Daniel Dean climb the falls as a water moccasin climbed with him just a bit faster about 10 ft away. This particular camp is where deep spiritual decisions were made every day by Carissa Gillespie who each morning would move her hair back and forth and ask, “Should I wear my hair up or down today? Up or down? Up or down?” For the sake of time though, maybe I should get on with the story at hand by first taking one more little rabbit trail.

When I was attending Tyner Junior High we use to play this game we called bombardment in gym. Basically everyone was divided into two teams and no one could cross center court. Several of those red rubber balls were placed in the middle and when the whistle blew it was high energy team dodgeball; don’t get hit but hit everyone on the other team as hard as you possibly can. The team with the last man standing won and I loved it. I couldn’t wear my glasses but I could dodge those red blurs with the best of them thanks to my cat like reflexes developed from years of clumsiness. There is just nothing like going through puberty with big red whelps on the side of your face to highlight the acne.

Fast forward back to camp 1993 and it was a rainy night so we had to come up with something to do in the gym. We had three youth groups with about equal number of teens and a whole bunch of red rubber balls. It seemed logical for me to suggest bombardment and we decided we would have two youth groups face off and the winner take on the third. First up was Northside vs LightForce with Winder taking on the winner. Since I do not have a competitive bone in my body it was only natural that I only had one thought in mind and that was to WIN! On a side note, I was later told by Ashley Gard that right before we started play Jesse said, “Finally a game where you can hurt someone!” I guess he had the gift of prophecy.

Once Greg gave the signal to start, that gym became a bloody massacre of rubber ball induced carnage on both sides of the court. Bodies were falling like rain that evening as the onslaught of rubber balls were flying back and forth leaving nothing but the cries of pain and defeat in its wake.  I was focused, like an old man trying to send back soup in a deli; my eyes were intent on Billy and one of his teens, Tobin Hines, who I thought was the only real competition standing between myself and victory when one of my own came to stand beside me and said, “Rick, I think I threw my shoulder out!” As any loving youth pastor would do, I maintained my gaze on the task at hand and simply said with the deepest of compassion, “Go tell Billy.” I have no idea what the conversation was between them, but since Billy is less competitive than me and much more spiritual he must have had a similar reaction and told him to go see his wife Tina.

The battle of the church youth groups continued as more and more teens were being laid to waste and it was down to just a few survivors. Billy and I had begun to talk a little smack and the wagering of mess hall cleanup duties began to take center court. Suddenly, I heard the soft voice of that sweetest of all angels deep within my soul as my wife yelled, “RICK FRANCE!” which was quickly followed by Tina’s, “BILLY GINN! COME HERE RIGHT NOW!”

Timeout was reluctantly called and I could see the look of fear in Billy’s eyes as I’m sure he also saw in mine. We both walked over to our wives like two 5 year olds who had just gotten caught and yet we had no idea what we were in trouble for. There behind our most loving and understanding wives who had decreed their undying love to us for better or worse, stood Jesse. His arm was at a 90 degree angle from where it should have been. It was literally hanging in front of his chest and I must admit it sort of grossed me out because I had never seen anything so misplaced in my life. Jesse had this taunting grin on his face that seemed to say, “You guys are in trouble now!” I do not know what Kathy and Tina said because they were yelling at us both at the same time and who could understand either of them talking over each other in such a rude fashion. In my defense I tried to throw Billy under the bus and said, “I sent him to Billy” but that just seemed to get us both in that much more trouble.

After our wives finally calmed down, I noticed tears flowing down Jesse’s cheeks which I am sure had more to do with the verbal beat down he had just witnessed of these two pillars of God in his life; much more than any pain that he might have been suffering from the dislocation of his arm from his shoulder, but a decision was finally made to take him to the ER. I went to get his medical release form and met Kathy and Jesse at the car and we made the trek to this little hospital in Dahlonega that was more like a doctor’s office. While we were waiting I made that midnight phone call that every youth pastor dreads that basically starts like this, “I want you to know that Jesse is all right but . . .”

They gave Jesse a shot of dilaudid and while we waited on the arrival of his parents, Jesse became very talkative. There is an unspoken agreement between youth pastors and parents that says, “I won’t believe anything your teen says about you if you don’t believe anything he says about me.” I listened to Jesse say more that night than he had spoken in all the conversations the two of us had over all the years combined and Jesse was in one of my discipleship groups so we spoke with each other multiple times a week outside of church. Kathy and I learned a lot of family secrets that night and I can honestly say I don’t remember a single one of them; and if I did there is that unspoken agreement.

Not long after his parents arrived he was dismissed and he somehow managed to talk his parents into letting him return to camp with his arm in a sling; probably because they didn’t want to listen to him all the way back to Woodstock since he had yet to shut up. Whatever the reason the three of us returned to camp and the week went on without anymore incidents to speak of. Well, until RJ Dunn and Stephanie Neal attempted to not be outdone by each spraining their ankle and wrist respectively; at least neither required the dreaded phone call and a trip to the ER.

Every now and then I still get in trouble for not paying attention and maybe even a little competitive when I shouldn’t be. Most of all, I just miss those LightForce days and all of the teens that made those days so special. I still think of them as my own. We saw many of them come to Christ at those events with the three groups and thanks to Facebook I still get a few messages here and there from my kids. Many are still walking the walk and talking the talk. Some have become pastors, worship leaders and church leaders themselves but every one of my kids are still in my prayers. I still want to see each one put their faith where it matters most; know what you believe and why you believe it; keep those arms & shoulders square and take that leap of faith to that higher place Beyond Belief.

Rick E. France

 

Imagine This

Rick France 1994, Alternative, Hard Rock , , , , , ,
Imagine This

The self-titled debut of Imagine This is pretty difficult to define. Hard rock is what I generally think of first but it has an alternative feel and shades of disco and even some rap, but overall it just plain rocks. It also contains a couple of songs that were probably an attempt to get a little airplay on Christian radio. Usually when I grabbed this CD it was because I was in the mood for some good, hard rockin’ songs with catchy melodies and hooks. Most of the time when I would hit those slower, almost power ballad types of songs, I would just skip them and go on to the next track. “Bishop of Souls” was one of those songs. Little did I know that this song would become not only my favorite song on the CD, but it would be part of such a major impact on my life.

It was Thursday, September 1, 1994. I had recently been laid off from Von Roll only a month earlier and decided to start my own business. I was in my car doing something business related that I can’t recall, but I was listening to this CD when Kathy called me to let me know that her grandmother, whom I only knew as Mamaw, had passed away. She was 93 years old. As I headed back to the house I remember I first prayed for a little while but then decided to turn the music back on to distract my mind. The CD was right at the chorus of “Bishop of Souls” and the first thing I heard was this:

Oh, the Bishop of my soul is calling me home

The song instantly became real to me and over the next several weeks I listened to this song almost exclusively.

Kathy and I had only been married a little over six years at that time. Our house is on family property that Mamaw and Papaw had given her parents and they in turn gave her. I never knew Papaw personally since he passed away before I was a part of the family, but their house was just up the drive within a short walking distance and we pass by it every day. It’s a small house but full of big memories for the entire family. The Bobos are special. Mamaw and Papaw had three sons and two daughters, and I will not even attempt to tell you how many grandkids and great-grandkids. Kathy’s uncle James moved to Texas long before we were married and all of his kids were already grown and had families of their own, yet every year a good number of them would make the trek to Georgia, spread out amongst the family and we would have this huge family reunion at Mamaw’s house. Even when the Texas Bobos were not in town the Georgia Bobos would regularly get together at that little house.

We have so many pictures of the entire family sitting on that front porch; each photo revealing the family’s growth in age as well as numbers. We all could not fit in the house so that front porch and yard was our gathering place. In that yard around that big old oak tree we played wiffle ball, frisbee, passed footballs and baseballs while watching the kids play tag and other games. We ate, caught up on all the family news that we already knew anyways and just had some of the best times of our lives together. Mamaw would just sit and watch and laugh at our antics and the air was full of everyone’s laughter. The seats next to Mamaw were never vacant and on a constant rotation of family members of all ages.

Since we lived so close to Mamaw, we would visit her quite often. Kathy and the kids more than me but still I remember spending quite a bit of time with her. I really never got the chance to speak with her much because Kathy is a hair dresser so she does most the talking. Still I would watch her and listen to her. I loved to watch her play with the girls and Stephen. She had this big rubber ball that she kept and toddler Stephen would sit in the floor and pass it back and forth to her the whole time we were visiting. According to adult Stephen, he still has that ball. I also remember watching her softly applaud as Katie and Melissa would show her their latest dance moves they had learned. I found these acts pretty amazing because it was obvious to me at that time in her life that her hands were in constant pain.

From the pain, the Bishop of my soul is calling me home

What beautiful hands she had. Sure, they were old and wrinkled and as I said, I could tell by the way she would rub them and the look on her face that they were the source of much pain. Yet you could see in her hands years and years of working the land, preparing chickens from the coop to the stove to the table, dealing with James, Geneva and Harold (which was a full time job in itself from what I’ve heard), and feeding the road workers from the prison when they would stop to rest in her yard. Those hands did not have the luxuries of microwaves and instant pots. Yet those hands were so gentle with each of us. Those hands had spent hours on end flipping through one of the most well-worned bibles I have ever seen. I believe those hands had actually touched the hem of her Savior’s garment. Those hands were the hands of Jesus because she treated each and every person as if they were His hands. What Would Jesus Do? Mamaw didn’t have to ask that question; she just did.

I’d see her look at me
Her eyes were icons of a faith I’d never known

I don’t recall any particular conversation with Mamaw, but what I do remember are her eyes when she talked to me. She truly had a faith I’ve never known and you could see it in her eyes. When she talked to me it was as if she was looking way beyond me and deep into my soul. It felt like she was sitting in the lap of Jesus and in her mind she was talking to Him about me. You could feel her prayers when you were in her presence. She could be talking about anything that wasn’t even spiritual and yet I could sense God’s Spirit pricking me and encouraging me just by being there. Her eyes smiled all the time and they were the eyes of grace. No condemnation; nothing to worry about; just eyes of grace resulting from a deep seated faith. A faith that knew who she was in Christ and saw who I could be if I would just let go and take that leap of faith into His loving arms right there beside her.

Finally free from the shackles of a dying world
They say she sang with the voice of an angel that day

As I drove by her house on my way home today and I was listening to this song, as always it brought tears to my eyes. Not because of that porch sitting empty or the missing oak tree that lightning stole away from us and not because of the loss of Mamaw. She’s where we all truly long to be, with Jesus. She truly has escaped the cares and pain of this world and is singing with angels at this very moment. She is in the great cloud of witnesses right there with all our loved ones that have gone on before us cheering us on. I believe she is even still talking to Jesus about all of her family and lifting us up in supplication at this very moment. No, the tears now are because of my own shortcomings. I long to have the faith of Mamaw; I long to have the grace of Mamaw; I long to walk as close to Christ as Mamaw did. She was an example to us all of what being a Christian really is.

I have several of those grey haired ladies and men in my life with calluses on their knees from the hours they have spent in prayer and I am sure each one of you can testify to the same. Right now I ask that you think about those little ol’ prayer warriors from your past that you knew, loved and respected that have gone on before you. That one person that you knew you could go talk to about anything and you knew they meant it when they said they would pray for you. Picture that one in your mind and all the traits that influenced you when they were here with you and how they still influence you even today. Picture the Mamaw of your life. The writer of Hebrews 6:12 said to be “imitators of those who through faith and patience inherit the promises.”

Now imagine what this world would be like if you and I became imitators of “The Mamaw” you are picturing in your mind. Imagine what would happen if we began to show the love of Christ as Mamaw did. Imagine what your family would become if we began to practice the walk, the patience, the strength, the courage, the grace, the faith and the love of Mamaw. Imagine what impact the body of Christ would have on this world if we each put our faith into action like this. If we would just do this, we would probably find that it really is not that difficult to Imagine This!

Rick E. France

 

All The World’s A Stage – Rush

Rick France 1976, Hard Rock, Prog Rock , , ,
All The Worlds A Stage
Rush

Dubbed The Musician’s Musicians and rightfully so, Rush was the first to merge Prog and Hard Rock together. Very few would disagree that The Professor, Neil Peart, is THE BEST Drummer in the world bar none. I would also argue that you would be hard pressed to find a better bassist in the world than Geddy Lee and in my humble opinion Alex Lifeson would make anyone’s list of “Top 10 Greatest Guitarist Of All Time”. This is just one awesome trio of musicians and about as close to the perfect band as you can get – but then there are vocals – that’s why I said close to the perfect band. Still they are such good musicians and songwriters that I actually can overlook the vocals in this case – besides, Geddy does sing on key and his voice seems to fit the style of music too. So while Geddy is no John Elefante he is distinctive and the perfect lead singer for Rush.

Now before anyone starts to question the inclusion of a “secular” band on this here blog, it is a blog about the soundtrack of my life. My musical retrospective in the key of life did not start once I became a Christian, and in the words of Steve Taylor, I do not only drink milk from a Christian cow. I am pretty selective when it comes to secular music in regards to my faith but I do eat at both Chick-fil-A and McDonald’s so I see no reason I can’t enjoy both Petra and Rush. If that offends you, then that’s your problem not mine.

While All The World’s A Stage is not what I would label as the best album Rush has ever created, it does have a special place in my memory bank. This live album came out in 1976 after the tour for what is one of their best albums, 2112. It was about this same time that I met my best friend in Jr High and High School, Steve Core. In my youth I was fortunate to have two best friends actually, and both were named Steve (I wonder if that is why I named my son Stephen?) but Steve Jackson had been my best friend since 2nd grade. According to Brian Regan one can have two favorite snow cones, grape being the favorite but if they’re out of grape cherry’s ok because it’s a favorite too. Therefore I conclude that one can have two best friends growing up because they’re both best. Core was grape and Jackson was cherry – simple as that.

Core was the new kid on the block (no relationship to the boy band) having moved from up north about a year or two earlier. We would jam together with the Jacksons (also no relationship to that boy band), Billy, Mark & Steven, in the Jackson’s garage on Davidson Ave along with Mike Rodgers. The six of us played the song “2112” A LOT! But the story of the garage band is for another day.

While I knew and jammed with Core prior to 1976, it was about this time that he became my best friend. I use to hang out in Core’s room and he would put All The World’s A Stage on so we could play along. Steve did not own a drum set at the time. If I recall correctly, he sold it before the move down south. He did have a weight bench in his room with books strategically stacked around it. He would point his drumstick at various weights and books and say, “This is my crash, this is my ride and here’s my hat. This stack of books is my floor and this one’s my snare” and so on until he had accounted for and described his entire kit that he was someday going to buy. Then he would place the needle right on “Ladies and Gentlemen, The Professor on the drum kit” and Core would proceed to play that solo right along with Neil Peart.

I thought Core had to be the best drummer in the world too because he was tearing those weights and books up! I would play my guitar while he would play those weights and books pretty much every day it seemed like. “Fly By Night”, “Working Man”, “Bastille Day”, “By-Tor & The Snow Dog”, we could play them all. In hindsight, maybe not quite as good as I thought especially since I have always been a rhythm guitarist, but in that bedroom we were awesome! We were the original Wyld Stallyns. We just needed Geddy Lee instead of Van Halen.

It wasn’t too long after that before Core finally bought his Rogers drum set that he still plays today and a couple of years ago when I went to see him play live, those drums still sounded so good. In hindsight though and after years of listening to Peart, maybe Core was not hitting every click of that drum solo – he’s a great drummer and probably the best I have ever known personally or played with but we are talking The Professor here. What I do know without a shadow of doubt is Peart can’t hold a candle to Core on a set of weights and a stack of books. And I think those were some of the best jam sessions of my entire life because in my mind’s eye I was playing guitar with a drum superstar that was my best grape friend.

As for Rush, this particular live album focuses mainly on their pre-prog days which was pretty good in its own right. The linear notes state that it is “the end of the first chapter of Rush”. The music that follows this album is simply prog-history. But when I listen to this one, I hear drumsticks hitting weights and books and very few things in life sound cooler than that! It just goes to show you that even in a teenager’s bedroom we find that All The World’s A Stage!

Rick E. France