If you've never been to a gospel rap concert, then...well...you're probably just like 99.9% of other people in the world. I, however, have been to one. A fellow fifth grade teacher at my school told me that his rap band, Unashamed to Put in Work, had a concert this Friday night. He asked me to go on five different occasions over the past couple weeks, so I figured I'd better go. I dragged my friend Elle along because I didn't want to go alone, and Rex refused to go. I wasn't going to miss it, though, because I had to support LaMont.
First of all, there are some things you should know about this guy: he's an ex-gangster. Legit. He's been shot twice. He's done every drug you can name. But then he found the LORD, and now he lives for Him. It's actually a pretty cool story, but you can ask me about that some other time. The point is that LaMont is now the leader of a Christian rap group, and I promised to go watch his concert. Okay, now I think you're caught up.
So Elle and I walked into this old warehouse-building-turned-church to see his concert. As soon as we walked in, I knew we were in for an interesting night. The music was ridiculously loud, and the bass was turned up so high that it shook the ceiling. There were colored strobe lights and disco balls casting pulsing rainbows of light onto everyone. I had just walked into Club Jesus.
Here's something you should know about me: I don't like clubs. I've only been to one, and I hated it. The music's too loud, people are crammed together, the air smells like sweat...I just don't like them. Therefore the whole situation seemed unsettling. Adding to the unease was the fact that there were only two white people at the event: me and Elle. I have nothing against black people, it's just that...well...how do I describe this? I'm SO WHITE. Like, boarding-school-in-Connecticut-and-wear-pearls-to-dinner-every-night kind of white. (That stuff isn't true, by the way. I never went to school in Connecticut. It's just an analogy). So when I saw "gangsters for the Lord" (their term, not mine) raising the roof and showing off their hip hop moves, I didn't know what to do. After all, there were three-year-olds there with better dance moves than I could ever hope to have. I was not about to get out on the floor and attempt to "shake it" with members of the ethnic group that God has blessed with an innate sense of rhythm. I ended up sitting in a chair in the back of the room with the old people and looking very awkward.
Even though I looked pretty awkward, I have to admit that the music was good. I mean, if you're into rap. I'm not really that into rap, but the stuff was catchy. The lyrics I could understand were good, too. Here is a small sampling of a couple different songs:
To God be the glory....END OF STORY!
To God be the glory...END OF STORY!
To God be the glory...END OF STORY!
Don't live in strife
Just be a Godly wife
Read Proverbs 31 - twice
Let it be a map fo yo life
Don't give the devil a STRONGHOLD!
If you're smoking the weed, he has a STRONGHOLD!
If you're hitting the sheets, he has a STRONGHOLD!
If you're doing drugs, he has a STRONGHOLD!
If you're holding a grudge, he has a STRONGHOLD!
Don't be givin' him a STRONGHOLD!
After a couple hours of this, Elle and I had sustained some temporary hearing loss so we decided to leave. It's too bad, really, because we left just as a preacher dude was getting up to speak. He sounded pretty good, one of those "Can I get an AMEN??" kind of speakers. I don't even raise up my hands when we sing in church, so I really wasn't about to be the dancing in the aisle hallelujah kind of audience member. It seemed rude to just sit there, though, so I left. Maybe I can learn some moves from my black friends and then bust them out at LaMont's next concert. Maybe...or maybe I'm busy that day.
Seriously, though - if you ever get a chance to go to a gospel rap concert, DO IT. It will be the weirdest experience of your life, but I now want to be a gangster for the Lord.
To God be the glory...END OF STORY!
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