Madness takes its toll

Yesterday was the first day of the Festival of Hope. I'd been accepted as a counselor, so I was there earliest than regular attendees, but though I left work a little early I was still later than most of the other counselors. As I sat in my designated section, watching people come in, I was amazed at what I saw. People of every age, ability, language, color. There were people with babies, elderly people with sticks, those with mobility devices or deaf, sections for with Spanish and Chinese translation, people who were American, Hispanic, Asian, Indian...

About an hour before the official start, DJ OPDiggy began, warming up the crowd. I didn't recognize most of it, but there was a mix that included Fluke. There were big screens up to let everyone see and cameras roved over the crowd, giving us some delightful moments when small children saw themselves on TV, or other people waved. There were introductions, including the spoken word poet Amena Brown with an amazingly powerful paraphrase of Dennis Agajanian - the fastest flat picker - in a more country style. He played That Song (you know, the one all Alabamians know, the unofficial state song from Lynyrd Skynyrd) and *really* got the crowd going, before moving into Power in the Blood. And then there was a worship band, whose name I can't remember - led by the Tommy Coomes Band - who carefully brought us into a place of expectation, ready to hear the message from Franklin Graham.  (His father, Billy Graham, was last here in 1964, over 50 years ago, in the larged integrated event in local our history.)

It was a great message, based on the healing of blind Bartimaeus in Mark 10, and showing how Bartimaeus had to see the truth before he could see in reality, how his decision to act brought him out of the darkness of blindness. Franklin talked about the truth: that God loves us, that all of us do wrong things, and that God sent his son Jesus to take our sins upon himself and to die in our place on the cross so that we might live. He talked about other people he'd known, and his own life, the mistakes he'd made and how he'd thought he was OK, riding on the coattails of his father, and the realization one day that this wasn't enough. And he talked of the hope that God gives us, that He offers to all of us: the promise of eternal life.

And then he invited people to come, and they did. First in ones and twos, then I saw teenagers streaming down, and suddenly the floor of the arena was over a third filled. I saw people who were decisive and people who weren't sure but wanted to know more. I saw people who looked lost, and people who were just there with a friend. He prayed with them, and counselors talked to them. At this point I had very mixed feelings: I was so glad there were enough counselors, that no-one was left on their own, but also disappointed that I wasn't needed. This is so unlike anything I've ever done before, and I'd had to psych myself up... only to be left sitting. But while I sat, I prayed for those who were there, that people who needed God would have the strength to come, that no-one would leave feeling alone, unwanted, unloved or unchanged.

When no-one needed more prayer, the closing musical act was ready: Kirk Franklin, an award-winning, multi-genre artist who crosses gospel, hip hop, pop and R&B. I didn't stay long, leaving midway through the second song; I was tired, it had been a long day, and I still had 40-minute walk home.

In about an hour I'll head back to be ready for today's event. I'm told the musical acts will feature Newsboys, Lacey, Flame and Dae-Lee (I don't know any of them) in addition to Amena Brown and DJ OPDiggy, while Sunday's will include Michael W. Smith, Tasha Cobbs, and Kari Jobe.

It's streaming live on www.bhamfest.com. The one tonight starts at 6pm CST, tomorrow at 5pm CST. (And for a week the whole event will be available to watch if you can't catch the live stream.) Even if you just want to see the music, it's wonderful.