We Owe This To Ourselves

As I waited on the street outside Irving Plaza, slowly cooling cup of too-bitter coffee in numb hands, I counted down the minutes until the beginning of the possible best night of my life. To my right were a dozen or so people (I always arrive at least 2 hours early for this band, no exceptions), and to my left the line continued around the next two corners of the block, with all kinds of people: young, old, punk, hipster, “normal,” all waiting for the same thing: Anberlin. The daylight drained away with the minutes, my eagerness making every moment feel as though at a complete standstill—but then the doors opened.

Entirely too excited to give up a second row spot for coat check, I went right in to Irving Plaza’s main room for the second time in my life. This time, though, I felt more than just anticipation. I’d seen Anberlin twice before already, but that only made me more in awe of what I was about to witness. Soon to be before me were the very people that influenced the decisions I’ve begun to make for my future. One of the main composers of the band, Stephen Christian, has his own side project, has written a book, and has formed a charity, called Faceless International, that he and the rest of the band actually go all over the world to contribute to. What these few people have done (and all in under a decade, too), is nearly exactly what I hope to accomplish with my life—but mainly, it’s the sheer power of their music, the fact that they can bring so many different people together and feel a common emotion, that I wish to one day achieve myself.

We all knew what was about to happen as the last opening act filed off: the lights would slowly fade up, as Anberlin’s bassist played a deep continuo in the background, so deep that we could not hear it but only feel it in our bodies—and everyone around me, from all backgrounds, all nations, all with different stories, pasts, futures…we all raised our hands as one, as the stage lights flashed and the first chords struck our very souls.