Jesus Christ was a Bboy

Saturday was interesting. With Boaz and Calvin in tow, we made our way to the oft visited Lakefront, home of duck families and the scores of human families that throw rocks at them. And in typical Howard County fashion, a country band was already performing on the platform we would practice on. Waaaaack. The crowd vibe was bored at best, itching for something else. Then the band finished. Right on cue, we summoned the [g h e t t o b l a s t e r] to project the musical stylings of passed-over legend, Michael Jackson. And in typical Howard County fashion, an anxious dance circle opened up to invite a homegrown, suburbantown celebration. Waiters served the patio tables with a swagger and accepted tips with a pelvic thrust. Grandmothers swung their clawed hands left-right-circle-left-left. And there we were, Bronx-style bboys paying tribute through a branch of dance Jackson helped inspire. Aside: Woodlawn, a local African-American church, invited us to perform at their services. Word! But after an hour of getting people hyped to songs about zombies and gang violence deterrence, a dried-up Willis surrendered, “Dang, I don’t have a lot of moves.”

The past year I was involved with Freaks of the Beat, a group that upholds the truest Hip-hop principles at Penn. Already having background in bboying and knowledge on the culture, I was eager to train with like-minded, enthusiastic, KRS-ONE-sampling individuals. And I did meet those individuals. Caveat lector – one troubling thing I noticed was the way the oldheads were teaching the new gens. They seemed consumed with lecturing the self-righteous doctrine of musicality; that hitting the beat triumphs over all other dance aspects. As a result, we were terribly weak. Complacent with just rudimentary skills and sloppy technicals, we would get destroyed at competitions. Moreover, it is my personal belief that Frosty Freeze, bless his chair-stabbing soul in heaven, would be ashamed at our group’s attitude.

This is the attitude that I believe is infesting a lot of churches. There are misconceptions in varying degrees, but the general misconception is of God’s unconditional love. I know this very much contradicts an entry I posted earlier. That no matter who we are, no matter how great our sin, God forgives…which is true. Caveat lector – His grace is not a universal blanket of acceptance.

Then how is it unconditional? Well, God is not a frail grandmother that indulges kids but is too weak to demand obedience and discipline (John 14:21-23). His love is unconditional in the sense that there are no tricks. The devil tempts and deceives, using our fleshly weakness to exploit and surrender blessings to sin. But God’s word unmistakably shows we are saved by *unconditional love through the *unconditional, complete sacrifice of His Son (Romans 8:32). For that reason, we must CHASE the Son without reservation to lay down our lives, sacrifice everything, lest we stand in God’s presence with heavy hearts. If His love were as free as everyone thought, why would we need Jesus? Why would we need God?

I see that with my class at church we are not becoming Godly men, but rather kids who act nice when we have to. God’s way is too hard for us. We’ll start cursing right when we leave the church parking lot. We’ll touch our girlfriends however we like. We’ll lie to our parents because it’s easy, silly mainlanders. Analogous to the weakness of a lousy 6-step, our church class is a weak body from shrugging off scripture, weak from passion run dry, weak from a delusion of God not being jealous for our hearts, not wrathful for our sin.

“Nahh trick chillax, God’s coo’ wit it. Jesus saved us, ya dig?” This is cheap grace. Just like hitting beats is just cheap hype. A chimpanzee handcuffed to a chair submerged in a tub of lard could hit beats. To explain in a way I understand, God doesn’t just beatride everything with footwork-pose-downrock-pose to follow “oldschool rules.” That’s Mighty Zulu Kings crap, and no one likes them HEHE. He is not made holy by nonchalantly beatriding both the righteous and the wicked. Instead, He is Judger of all things time-space and His timing devastates with perfect care and purpose. A (slightly) more accurate gauge of God’s holiness would be a double loser flip into a reverse elbowchair, spinning and inverted with both His mighty hands behind his back scratching His own mix of the Jackson 5’s Pumpin’ Jumpin’ (you all know that part – babadabadadum DA!DA!DA!) He is perfect. He won’t completely burn you, smoke you, wipe the floor with your eyelids like you deserve, but will reveal to you THE WAY AND THE TRUTH.

And so, we must emulate. True bboying is honest expression. Not being a slave to music, but being its visual megaphone so to speak. To respect the culture, and yourself, expression must be as complex as the emotions put into each trilling high-hat. Crazy Legs could’ve just saved the trouble of tirelessly going from backspin to chair, backspin to chair, then –KABAWW- windmill. We must always push ourselves to acquire the moves and put our own flavor to it.

Faith works similarly. Our bodily vessels must megaphone Jesus. Scripture is what we arm ourselves with against the Gentiles and skeptics. Like storing nasty finisher combos, we should commit to memorize a couple hardhitting verses or a couple stupefying counter-Darwinist loopholes to beat back the opposing crew that is the World. Caveat lector - spitting Christian theology without compassion is like doing rehashed power combos that are superficially impressive. Bboying emphasizes individuality; unique transitions and well-timed blowups are recipes for an inspiring battle set. It is the same with reaching out and blessing others with His word. A Christian should discern when the soil is fertile to plant seeds, when they are called and do so lovingly and not proudly (Ecclesiastes 3:1). Do not simply recite scripture, but share your personal convictions and how your walk with Jesus changed because of them. Dope.

Surprisingly, Christian and Hip-hop ideologies reflect each other in too many ways. Members of both parties would deem this sacrilegious: Christians would pretentiously stray away from something so “degrading” while Hip-hop heads continually cypher in the orgy that is self-empowerment, rejecting conventional authority seen in Christian-based Western government. Thankfully, God’s goodness transcends their mutual flaws and is made to be glorified in both communities.