Welp, I did it. I was one of 20,000 people who attended Kanye's Sunday Service yesterday in Chicago.
Now, I'm not gonna lie. I was skeptical about attending this coveted event. Like many, I'd seen the viral videos of Kanye vibing out to Gospel and pop classics at his "services", but something about it seemed a bit "odd" to me, if you will. Maybe it's because I grew up in the Baptists church. We see Sunday morning services as both a spiritual and religious gathering where worshippers come together to praise God. However, because Kanye's Sunday Services are purely spiritual, and are anchored (in part, to be fair) by some of his more grounding hits, it made me question what or whom was at the center of attention here. Were people connecting spiritually during a Kanye-led event, or had Kanye become the focal point of their meditation and/or praise?
And of course, there was the whole "I love Trump" thing that Kanye did last year that had turned me off to him. His support of Trump even moved others to cancel him all together. Though I don't blame people for canceling Kanye (I mean, dude was WYLIN wylin, and he wouldn't stop), canceling isn't my go-to re-action, at least it's not anymore. For people like Kanye, people of whom I'm a huge fan and who've temporarily lost their way, I opt to put those individuals in "time-out"; I just figure that if people want to act like children, I'm gonna treat them like children. Similar to a child who acts up, I put them away, I leave them alone for a while (in Kanye's case it was a year), then later come back to see if they've learned from their mistakes, or at the very least, aren't making those same mistakes.
I decided to do this with Kanye.
It's been a year since his Trump meltdown, and I hadn't heard any new reports of Kanye doing anything else on that level of foolishness, so I decided to give him another shot. After all, his music means a lot to me, and I truly do care about his wellbeing; music has a way of making us love people we've never met.
Besides, the best way to really find out how you feel about something is to experience it for yourself. So, when my friends copped Sunday Service tickets FOR THE FREE, I was down.
And, for a free event, Sunday Service was nice.
It featured a choir of gospel singers who sang their butts off, a horn section who knew how to blow, drummers who never missed a beat, and of course, Kanye West leading the way the whole time. The ensemble performed a number of gospel songs to set the vibes, then transitioned to some of Kanye's more spiritual songs like "Jesus Walks" and "Father Stretch My Hands, Pt. 1", mixed it with some catchy beats on stage, and engaged the crowd along the way. Chance the Rapper even made a surprise appearance for "Ultra Light Beams".
And after experiencing the event for myself, I can truly say I enjoyed myself. However, the lesson for me didn't come from the service itself; it came from the journey to get there.
I woke up late. I was supposed to be there by 6 a.m. to get a good spot in line. I didn't wake up until 6:45 a.m. Already off to a bad start. As I rushed to get ready, I could feel myself becoming physically ill. This happens often due to battles with health and wellness, and always happens at the most inconvenient times. But, though it slowed me down, it didn't stop me. I pushed on.
I got dressed and took an Uber to Notherly Island Pavilion and waited in multiple long lines until I got inside the pavilion, all while hiding from the rain under the hood of my pull-over windbreaker (pictured above). And then the real battle began: I had to find my friends.
For 20 minutes, I called my friends off and on, trying to get a hold of them long enough to know where they were (the furthest away from each other we could possibly be), all while squeezing my way through a crowd of hundreds of people in general admission to find them. With music playing and people screaming everywhere, my anxiety went through the roof. At one point I considered giving up my search all together. After all, the chances that I'd ever find my friends were slim to none, especially since I'd literally been sandwiched into immobility several times by mass groups of people. I was wet and frustrated and sick and exhausted.
But I remembered: This isn't what I came here for. I came to enjoy this spiritual event with my friends, not by myself. I'd taken far too many L's up until then; I refused to take anymore.
So I kept pushing. For 20 minutes, I pressed forward. And then suddenly, there were my friends, right in front of me, confused by my frustration/bewilderment. I spilled my guts about what I'd been through to get to them, how I'd gone from the back-right to the front-center, as far as anyone could go on our side, just to find them pressed against the railing next to the isle where Kanye and Chance would enter/exit the crowd. Thankfully, in the midst of my frustration, they reminded me that though the journey was rough, I'd finally made it, and that's what really mattered.
And they were right. Even though I could barely see the stage at all, I was still in the presence of friends and music-lovers, musicians that moved the crowd, Chance the Rapper who led the crowd with positivity (AND who acknowledged and spoke to me TWICE!), and Kanye West who brought everything together. Being surrounded by love in its many forms was my reward for pushing forward and shedding my frustrations.
That's what I carried with me when I left the pavilion. Yes, the event was great, but at the end of the day, what I really needed to learn was something Kanye himself couldn't teach me; it's something I had to realize on my own.
Maybe this is a roll-out for a new album. Maybe Kanye wants to get on everyone's good side again. Maybe performing and creating on stage is his therapy just like blogging and vlogging are mine. One can't be certain. But there is one thing I am certain of—Kanye loves the city of Chicago, and was kind enough to give us an experience we wouldn't have had otherwise. And for me, though he was the one on stage, he wasn't the one I was focused on. Rather than him, I focused on emotions, connections, the journey I'd had. And maybe that's the point. Maybe it isn't.
Regardless, I can't stay mad or hold a grudge or continue to feel the same way I did before, without some sort of perspective change. If anything, I'm grateful. I'm secure. I'm resolved. I imagine Kanye felt the same way—at least, that's what it looked like when he walked right past me, just feet away from me as he left to complete his own journey, just as I'd completed mine.
Check out last week's video from Care{Free}Bri on YouTube! Tune in every Friday for new uploads.
Comments