Matisyahu's Solstice
I live in the city of Fairbanks. Fairbanks to me is a very large town, with a pretty consistent “small town” feel. Just walking in the downtown area you are guaranteed to see someone you know or someone you've seen at least once or twice earlier in the week. Not much variety at all. It can be a little disappointing.
So, since I've become something of a homebody during my self-inflicted "Exile" in the Great White North, my personal activities have become pretty domestic and "retiring," for lack of a better word. In other words, I'm incredibly boring. Almost 7 years ago, I hit the books and began studying Judaism and then turned to Kabbalah. At the same time, in addition to adopting a new set of beliefs and spiritual worldview, I adopted new types of music to add to my own jazz, R&B, downtempo, and world music collection. A few of my new faves turned out to be Israeli artists such as Ofra Haza, Achinoam Nini, Mosh ben Ari, Idan Raichel, Hadag Nachash, and Din Din Aviv to name a few. In the Diaspora, I turned to Tzvi Gluckman, cantor Richard Kaplan, acoustic jazz bassist Avishai Cohen, and of course, Matisyahu.
When I first heard about Matisyahu coming to Fairbanks, I was very surprised. I couldn't understand why he would come here. I can't say I've followed his career, but I have read the gist of his story, how as a young Jewish American from the midwest, he had a series of experiences that led him to become a Hasid. I can greatly appreciate his path and I can almost imagine the intensity of the wonder and joy of the experiences that led him to do a complete 360-degree turn in his own life. I am strangely happy and proud of him. And due to my own spiritual experiences I felt (and still feel) a sense of kinship. I am very happy that he has chosen to share his message with the world. Despite this, I had no intention of going to see him. It didn't seem like a possibility. I did briefly (irrationally) wonder if I would somehow “sense” that he was in town, as if he were some great supernaturally spiritual being. If nothing else, I thought that 12 hours of total daylight is something that everyone should see – you have to see it to believe it. But I hadn't planned on attending this concert at all - I'm a shy homebody, remember.
On Friday, June 22, I grudgingly attended a retirement party for work. I say grudgingly, because I usually don't like to have to be told by my supervisor to attend these, but she reminded me just the same (as she probably should), plus I had enjoyed working with the retiree, so there I was. I was also very surprised because not only did I actually enjoy myself, but almost immediately was asked by a friend if I wanted to go with her later to see Matisyahu. I hemmed and hawed and stammered I wasn't sure. My exuberant friend talked me into it, and before I knew it – after hugging and saying goodbye to the happy retiree – who was on his way to sunny Arizona to be near his daughter and grandkids – I was following my friend's little Subaru along a dusty highway to the Blue Loon where Matisyahu would perform. And I'm very glad I did.
I believe there were a series of bands that had taken the stage before him. Matisyahu started performing around 9pm - about the time my friend and I got there. He’d chosen to appear in Alaska for the summer solstice, the longest day of the year. Since the Shabbat would actually occur sometime after midnight, I was told that the concert would be over by then. Since, I also observe the Shabbat I was nudging my friend at about 11pm. Luckily, she’d had a very long week, too, and wanted to get home.
It was an amazing experience. Since I also Flickr, I got a few decent pics. It was an outdoor concert. One thing I did admire was how the concert areas were set up. There was a grassy area sectioned or partitioned off for families with small children and babies. It looked like this massive family picnic. I like to think that Matisyahu requested this, because I’ve read he has a young family himself. The area where my friend and I were was for those who were drinking, and was considerably closer to the stage. My friend who’d never really paid attention to his music was surprised when I started singing along. When we walked into the Blue Loon to collect beers, she said he seemed to have a definite message he was trying to send through his music.
And what is his message? Can it be defined? Yes and no. Some would say Matisyahu's message is all about God, or World Peace. This is like saying his message is only about socks. From what I’ve seen anyone who has had a spiritual experience appears as if they have a definite message and a newfound sense of purpose about their life, the existence of all life, and in particular, an intense awareness of their Creator.
This sense of purpose is exhilarating and full of wonder, and energy and that special peace that reminds me of the feeling of having a new baby in the house. Upon the birth of my own son I remember that it felt as if there were this heavenly force field in and around our home. Like an invisible sign that as soon as you cross the threshhold of the door flashes: "Something Special is Here." Essentially, for anyone who has had a spiritual experience, the message is always much more sublime, more personal, and ten times more wonderful than just those simple words, "God," and "World Peace."
I would like to believe that it was divine intervention that caused me to attend this concert. Thinking about it previously, I didn’t see myself going at all – figuring I would do my duty by attending the retirement party, and then go home, light my candles and study Kabbalah. I actually fantasized that someone, anyone, who’d never thought about religion or spirituality before would go to this concert and want to know what Hasidism or Judaism (or even Kabbalah) was all about and begin a spiritual journey. This excited me.
The Matisyahu concert was a wonderful prelude to my Shabbat. It infused and rejeuvenated my desire to observe and caused me to appreciate the Shabbat even more, alongside the fact that I arrived home that evening with time to spare (and for once I’d had the foresight to set up my candles the night before). My connection to my Shabbat felt stronger than ever, and I felt absolutely that everything I’d experienced for the past five hours was intended and meant to be.
Shalom.
Comments
I enjoyed reading your post about the Matisyahu show up in Fairbanks.