Very early on in the interview process for the new book, one of the artists said to me, “You know, this isn’t just our story.  It’s yours too.”  At the time I wasn’t quite sure what to make of his words.  After all, the focus was and is entirely on the artists with me serving solely as the facilitator for their lives and times being put into print.  How could any part of this be my story?

Now, as the writing process reaches its conclusion, I’ve come to know.

The church’s history has never been about pontiffs and preachers, reformers and radicals.  Oh, they are the known names.  They shook the world, or at least the part of it wherein they lived and worked.  Certainly they built or buttressed the church.  Definitely they were part of shepherding the church.  But are they its history?  No.

The church’s history has and always will consist of the faithful unknown but to God and each other.  Throughout the centuries they have lit the candles and said the prayers and lived their lives as best they could in the manner their faith dictated.  They have loved Jesus and shared His love with others, doing their best to do His will and be His hands and voice in the world.  They have come together to sing the songs and read the Scriptures and help each other even as they have been helped by each other.  The world has never given them attention.  Nor have they known acclaim.  Yet they are known, and loved, and forever at home in heaven.

The kids, the young men and women who attended the concerts in the ’80s when new rock was still new are for the most part still here.  As it was with the sower and his seed, so it has been with them.  Some heard the Word but quickly dismissed it or allowed others to dismiss it for them.  Some embraced the faith only to later walk away.  Some accepted the faith and then let it slowly diminish as other concerns became preeminent.  But the rest somewhere along the line asked Jesus into their lives.  And throughout everything that has transpired since, be it joyous or permeated with sorrow, they have allowed Him to stay there.

There is one other group yet to be accounted for.  A splinter group, if you will, of those who once burned bright for Christ only to let the flame slowly fade over time until it was a dim ember if in fact that much remained of what once was.

They’ve either come back Home to Christ or want to know if they can.

The answer is yes.

I know.  I did.

From this aspect, the book is my story and the story of many, many others.  If bringing to life remembrance of the artists and their music also brings back to like remembrance of what it was like to be alive in Christ, accompanied by a desire to be that way once more, the book’s purpose is served.  It isn’t a collection of “where are they now” tales.  It’s who are they now.  In the process of bringing this to light, hopefully the reader can see not only the artists but also themselves.  To remember where and who were we then naturally leads to contemplating where and who are we now.  And are we who we want to be.

There is no nostalgia in desiring a return to being alive in Christ, for as the Scripture says He is the same yesterday, today and forever.  There is much truth in the saying ‘if a distance has grown between you and God guess who moved.’  There is no truth in the saying ‘you can never go home again.’  Yes you can.  Yes you can be made new again.  Yes you can be made whole again.  Yes you can know His love again.

As the book says on the back cover, if you weren’t there it’s time to learn where you came from.

If you were there…

… it’s time to live again.

In the words of Undercover, raise your hands.  It’s time to fly.

God’s not dead and neither are we.

Christ.  Soul.  Rock’n'roll.

Good things, one and all.