Two years ago, either today or tomorrow, a friend of mine passed away suddenly (tomorrow’s date two years ago was listed as his date of death). I still don’t know what happened. The summation of what little I heard about his passing is that it was sudden, most certainly unexpected, but that it was unlikely to have been self-inflicted. My information was third-hand, and I never got a follow-up. To be fair, I had stepped away from Ring Shout ever since COVID began, and with also starting a new romantic relationship, my priorities were about to shift drastically. News of this passing was what led me to return to jamming with the remnant of Ring Shout, which by that time had been whittled down to four others besides myself.
Mark was the guy who, in his last years, texted Happy Thanksgiving or Merry Christmas or Happy Easter, and it almost always closed out with “to you and yours.” I of course always responded, often quickly. And then the text conversation usually was done, until the next time. Prior to that, he periodically asked me about getting together to jam. I was at a weird spot with music by that time, so I always countered with “let’s get together for a meal and conversation.” It never happened. (There were two or three times around late 2021 or early 2022 where we did get together this jam, like he requested, and it was with at least a couple of the other guys as well. Now that I think about it, it was three times, because the third time was a beginning rehearsal for a milestone birthday party for a band member who I didn’t know as well and hadn’t really played with except maybe once or twice previously.)
One of those rehearsals was of just five of us, at a house that Mark had shared with another of the band members (they were both heterosexual, and it was at minimum a two-bedroom house, so the arrangement wasn’t scandalous), and there was an opportunity to do something that I didn’t do, which I still regret to this day. By this point, Mark had been out of work for quite some time, and his eyesight had gotten bad enough that he couldn’t drive. He was due to have surgery in a few weeks to try to improve his eyesight. Except for the one band member with whom he shared the house, all the others were believers. There was a moment where the one unbelieving band member went upstairs for a bit. This was the opportunity to try to get the remaining men to pray for Mark and for the restoration of his eyesight (I’m not sure how much the cost of the surgery was, but I can only imagine it was a lot: he wasn’t yet of retirement age, and having been out of work for some time, I’m not sure how he was able to scrape the money together to make it happen). I believed in the power of prayer, and I knew that the other three men in the room did, too. There was only a small smattering of conversation that was ending and then picking up. I hesitated. I said nothing. Ultimately the unbelieving band member returned and I still said nothing. The night continued and eventually wrapped up. No prayer. I think I told Mark that I would pray for him, but that was that.
The house that he had lived in with the band member was in Franklin Park. It appeared to be a decently safe neighborhood. Two years later, after Mark had passed, I had caught up with the former housemate and asked if he still lived in the house, or what he was going to do (upon the assumption that he still lived there). He responded that they had moved in the last couple of years. Apparently he had moved into the city. I didn’t dare ask if Mark had followed him. Probably not. This same band member, when I had asked him how he was holding up in the aftermath of Mark’s passing, said that the last time he had seen him was a week prior to the passing. Mark seemed his normal self; there was no indication of anything amiss, no unusual health issue or foreboding situation or signs that his end would be near. Still, I don’t know if Mark was murdered or even manslaughtered (probably not, since there would have been something in the paper or online that would have indicated as such).
But I do believe he was saved. I remember calling him out one time for being preachy when I was going through a very hard time (this was years prior to his passing), and he did apologize for nicking me with his comments. But the content of what he said was something that told me his faith was more than just a cloak he wore (as unfortunately is the case with so many so-called “believers”). He understood the Bible. He understood that faith needed to surpass everything, including our own thoughts and feelings. He even challenged the band one time, back in the day when it was even more dominated by outspoken non-believers. The topic was about a recently-released movie in theaters titled “Noah,” produced by atheist filmmaker Darren Aronofsky, which disrespectfully portrayed God as an immature teenager with immense power. So while this film came up in conversation, one of the other outspoken band members spoke up and claimed that Christians gave “Judas a bad name,” to which Mark piped up and commented that Judas’s name was bad from the beginning, due to Judas Iscariot betraying Jesus Christ to His death:
Mark was the guy who, in his last years, texted Happy Thanksgiving or Merry Christmas or Happy Easter, and it almost always closed out with “to you and yours.” I of course always responded, often quickly. And then the text conversation usually was done, until the next time. Prior to that, he periodically asked me about getting together to jam. I was at a weird spot with music by that time, so I always countered with “let’s get together for a meal and conversation.” It never happened. (There were two or three times around late 2021 or early 2022 where we did get together this jam, like he requested, and it was with at least a couple of the other guys as well. Now that I think about it, it was three times, because the third time was a beginning rehearsal for a milestone birthday party for a band member who I didn’t know as well and hadn’t really played with except maybe once or twice previously.)
One of those rehearsals was of just five of us, at a house that Mark had shared with another of the band members (they were both heterosexual, and it was at minimum a two-bedroom house, so the arrangement wasn’t scandalous), and there was an opportunity to do something that I didn’t do, which I still regret to this day. By this point, Mark had been out of work for quite some time, and his eyesight had gotten bad enough that he couldn’t drive. He was due to have surgery in a few weeks to try to improve his eyesight. Except for the one band member with whom he shared the house, all the others were believers. There was a moment where the one unbelieving band member went upstairs for a bit. This was the opportunity to try to get the remaining men to pray for Mark and for the restoration of his eyesight (I’m not sure how much the cost of the surgery was, but I can only imagine it was a lot: he wasn’t yet of retirement age, and having been out of work for some time, I’m not sure how he was able to scrape the money together to make it happen). I believed in the power of prayer, and I knew that the other three men in the room did, too. There was only a small smattering of conversation that was ending and then picking up. I hesitated. I said nothing. Ultimately the unbelieving band member returned and I still said nothing. The night continued and eventually wrapped up. No prayer. I think I told Mark that I would pray for him, but that was that.
The house that he had lived in with the band member was in Franklin Park. It appeared to be a decently safe neighborhood. Two years later, after Mark had passed, I had caught up with the former housemate and asked if he still lived in the house, or what he was going to do (upon the assumption that he still lived there). He responded that they had moved in the last couple of years. Apparently he had moved into the city. I didn’t dare ask if Mark had followed him. Probably not. This same band member, when I had asked him how he was holding up in the aftermath of Mark’s passing, said that the last time he had seen him was a week prior to the passing. Mark seemed his normal self; there was no indication of anything amiss, no unusual health issue or foreboding situation or signs that his end would be near. Still, I don’t know if Mark was murdered or even manslaughtered (probably not, since there would have been something in the paper or online that would have indicated as such).
But I do believe he was saved. I remember calling him out one time for being preachy when I was going through a very hard time (this was years prior to his passing), and he did apologize for nicking me with his comments. But the content of what he said was something that told me his faith was more than just a cloak he wore (as unfortunately is the case with so many so-called “believers”). He understood the Bible. He understood that faith needed to surpass everything, including our own thoughts and feelings. He even challenged the band one time, back in the day when it was even more dominated by outspoken non-believers. The topic was about a recently-released movie in theaters titled “Noah,” produced by atheist filmmaker Darren Aronofsky, which disrespectfully portrayed God as an immature teenager with immense power. So while this film came up in conversation, one of the other outspoken band members spoke up and claimed that Christians gave “Judas a bad name,” to which Mark piped up and commented that Judas’s name was bad from the beginning, due to Judas Iscariot betraying Jesus Christ to His death:
“And supper being ended, the devil having already put it into the heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon’s son, to betray Him,”
John 13:2 NKJV
https://bible.com/bible/114/jhn.13.2.NKJV
“Then Judas Iscariot, one of the twelve, went to the chief priests to betray Him to them.”
Mark 14:10 NKJV
https://bible.com/bible/114/mrk.14.10.NKJV
“Then He came the third time and said to them, “Are you still sleeping and resting? It is enough! The hour has come; behold, the Son of Man is being betrayed into the hands of sinners. Rise, let us be going. See, My betrayer is at hand.” And immediately, while He was still speaking, Judas, one of the twelve, with a great multitude with swords and clubs, came from the chief priests and the scribes and the elders. Now His betrayer had given them a signal, saying, “Whomever I kiss, He is the One; seize Him and lead Him away safely.” As soon as he had come, immediately he went up to Him and said to Him, “Rabbi, Rabbi!” and kissed Him. Then they laid their hands on Him and took Him.”
Mark 14:41-46 NKJV
https://bible.com/bible/114/mrk.14.41-46.NKJV
After a little back and forth, Mark (the deceased band member, not the Gospel writer) responded by stating that the Bible was historical:
“All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, thoroughly equipped for every good work.”
II Timothy 3:16-17 NKJV
https://bible.com/bible/114/2ti.3.16-17.NKJV
That conversation petered out from there. To where, I don’t know. I suspect that we returned to rehearsing the next song on the agenda.
So while I do believe that Mark was saved, I’ve wrestled with doubts. A year ago, on the one-year anniversary of his passing (and now a full year ago), Ring Shout had its first gig. The wake service two years ago was a reconnection for pretty much everyone, as I don’t believe that the band was really doing much together during the COVID years or the first few post-COVID, outside of that one aforementioned milestone birthday, which I’m told was a huge event. We had one jam session, which I was amenable to, and then another, which I was also amenable to (a big part of it was also because I was still living in that very difficult living situation, so I was happy for any excuse to get out for a few hours at a time). And then it continued, first on a monthly basis, and then even more frequently. Before I knew it, talks were getting serious about resuming the gigging and rehearsing like we had been doing before COVID. Multiple attempts at setting up a gig resulted in delays, but we finally got a hit with a concert scheduled on February 22nd at Bobby’s Eastside in Forest Park, Illinois. It was a Saturday afternoon gig, so it wasn’t super well-attended, although we had a few people attend.
Where my doubt came in was at how this gig was the culmination of a long series of spiritual signs, the most glaring of which was a rare four-time false start followed by a successful start on the fifth try (in Ring Shout history, I think the worst I ever experienced was one false start followed by a successful start of a song on the second try; and even then that was rare). Apparently this was the one original that Mark and his housemate had co-written, years before they were sharing the house, and the drummer who replaced Mark was still getting his feet under him in learning this song (to be fair, it is very rhythmically complicated, especially for a band of this caliber). Additionally, right before the start of this song, one of the band members mentioned Mark’s passing, and his former bandmate who mentioned that that very day was the one-year anniversary (hence the confusion about his actual date of death).
So while I do believe that Mark was saved, I’ve wrestled with doubts. A year ago, on the one-year anniversary of his passing (and now a full year ago), Ring Shout had its first gig. The wake service two years ago was a reconnection for pretty much everyone, as I don’t believe that the band was really doing much together during the COVID years or the first few post-COVID, outside of that one aforementioned milestone birthday, which I’m told was a huge event. We had one jam session, which I was amenable to, and then another, which I was also amenable to (a big part of it was also because I was still living in that very difficult living situation, so I was happy for any excuse to get out for a few hours at a time). And then it continued, first on a monthly basis, and then even more frequently. Before I knew it, talks were getting serious about resuming the gigging and rehearsing like we had been doing before COVID. Multiple attempts at setting up a gig resulted in delays, but we finally got a hit with a concert scheduled on February 22nd at Bobby’s Eastside in Forest Park, Illinois. It was a Saturday afternoon gig, so it wasn’t super well-attended, although we had a few people attend.
Where my doubt came in was at how this gig was the culmination of a long series of spiritual signs, the most glaring of which was a rare four-time false start followed by a successful start on the fifth try (in Ring Shout history, I think the worst I ever experienced was one false start followed by a successful start of a song on the second try; and even then that was rare). Apparently this was the one original that Mark and his housemate had co-written, years before they were sharing the house, and the drummer who replaced Mark was still getting his feet under him in learning this song (to be fair, it is very rhythmically complicated, especially for a band of this caliber). Additionally, right before the start of this song, one of the band members mentioned Mark’s passing, and his former bandmate who mentioned that that very day was the one-year anniversary (hence the confusion about his actual date of death).
It was here that I began wondering about familiar spirits, including the possibility that Mark’s familiar spirit was deeply unhappy with the band not only continuing without him (after all, he periodically kept texting me that he wanted to get together 1:1 specifically to jam, and he also expressed disappointment that Ring Shout appeared to move on without him during COVID). The gig itself was full of rust and errors, including the former housemate whose guitar fizzled out two songs from the start of the concert, and I did a solo jam to keep the crowd occupied while he swapped out to a backup guitar (he later quipped that in all his years of performing concerts, this had never happened before), among countless other errors. But the four false starts on the one song Mark contributed to composing was to a whole other level.
Then again, there were many other signs that also came up leading up to the gig, including signs I took into consideration regarding leaving the band after this gig. (My wife had put her foot down requiring that I leave, citing that 1.) it was taking me away from her, 2.) that this was a lot of time devoted to free labor where there was no guarantee of it paying off financially, and 3.) when we were first dating, she and I agreed that we needed to cull any time where it wasn’t directly making money for the household we were working on building together. It was difficult but I left. What helped make it easier was that I was deep in the throes of the health condition that I was battling (even now, I’m still battling it but I’m doing better, praise God!). That was what I kept telling the guys in the band anytime they asked me. It was honest because I had a relapse of the condition after that gig. But what is also true is that I got a sense, not just because my wife wanted me to quit the band, but also because I felt like God wanted me to leave, too. I had a dream right around that time where I was in a musical environment of sorts, and someone came up to me and yelled at me, telling me to “leave now!”
So I’m no longer part of Ring Shout. Ultimately, I do think it’s for the best. But I do still miss those guys. It’s a tough part of adulthood: making tough adult decisions that involve cutting out things I enjoy, for the sake of other priorities, for example my marriage. I am still writing music. Right before I left the band, I was working on a band album, in large part with the idea of having Ring Shout play these songs, especially once I had the audio files created and uploaded. Even though now that particular dream is dead, it is not impossible for another dream to arrive. Nonetheless, I still haven’t finished the album. I still have at least two tracks left to do. We’ll see if or when it ever gets done.
I spoke extensively with Guitar Hero at the end of night after the dinner following Mark’s wake. Guitar Hero had revealed that he had Stage 4 cancer, and even though it seems that he is managing it, it was a shock. (Transparently, Guitar Hero was another of the outspoken non-believers who masqueraded as Christian-adjacent (and even had me fooled for many years), and someone who I strongly believe God played a major role in getting the two of us separated by 2020). For as long as I knew him, he tended to be close to the vest regarding his personal life, but at this wake and even when the two of us were chatting in the cold parking lot for at least an hour, he was much more open about his life. I remember the desperation in his voice (his realizing that his life was very likely to be cut far shorter than he had ever expected), and the sheer, effusive happiness when I told him that I was still writing music. But this is also a man who, as I believe God revealed to me in 2019, was not only not Christian-adjacent but also outright working for the devil. I’ve been working on my own sins, habits, and revelations around a large smattering of broken and dead friendships and acquaintanceships, especially as it pertained to this verse:
Then again, there were many other signs that also came up leading up to the gig, including signs I took into consideration regarding leaving the band after this gig. (My wife had put her foot down requiring that I leave, citing that 1.) it was taking me away from her, 2.) that this was a lot of time devoted to free labor where there was no guarantee of it paying off financially, and 3.) when we were first dating, she and I agreed that we needed to cull any time where it wasn’t directly making money for the household we were working on building together. It was difficult but I left. What helped make it easier was that I was deep in the throes of the health condition that I was battling (even now, I’m still battling it but I’m doing better, praise God!). That was what I kept telling the guys in the band anytime they asked me. It was honest because I had a relapse of the condition after that gig. But what is also true is that I got a sense, not just because my wife wanted me to quit the band, but also because I felt like God wanted me to leave, too. I had a dream right around that time where I was in a musical environment of sorts, and someone came up to me and yelled at me, telling me to “leave now!”
So I’m no longer part of Ring Shout. Ultimately, I do think it’s for the best. But I do still miss those guys. It’s a tough part of adulthood: making tough adult decisions that involve cutting out things I enjoy, for the sake of other priorities, for example my marriage. I am still writing music. Right before I left the band, I was working on a band album, in large part with the idea of having Ring Shout play these songs, especially once I had the audio files created and uploaded. Even though now that particular dream is dead, it is not impossible for another dream to arrive. Nonetheless, I still haven’t finished the album. I still have at least two tracks left to do. We’ll see if or when it ever gets done.
I spoke extensively with Guitar Hero at the end of night after the dinner following Mark’s wake. Guitar Hero had revealed that he had Stage 4 cancer, and even though it seems that he is managing it, it was a shock. (Transparently, Guitar Hero was another of the outspoken non-believers who masqueraded as Christian-adjacent (and even had me fooled for many years), and someone who I strongly believe God played a major role in getting the two of us separated by 2020). For as long as I knew him, he tended to be close to the vest regarding his personal life, but at this wake and even when the two of us were chatting in the cold parking lot for at least an hour, he was much more open about his life. I remember the desperation in his voice (his realizing that his life was very likely to be cut far shorter than he had ever expected), and the sheer, effusive happiness when I told him that I was still writing music. But this is also a man who, as I believe God revealed to me in 2019, was not only not Christian-adjacent but also outright working for the devil. I’ve been working on my own sins, habits, and revelations around a large smattering of broken and dead friendships and acquaintanceships, especially as it pertained to this verse:
“Do not be deceived: “Evil company corrupts good habits.””I Corinthians 15:33 NKJV
Most past cases are cut and dry, and specifically that I was the bad company. (Still ouch, even after a couple years now of processing it and coming to terms with it.) But what about the cases, for example with Ring Shout and other band people from the 2010s, where there was no falling out? Biblically speaking, it is still cut and dry, considering that they are used to speaking and doing and influencing. But what about preaching the Gospel of Jesus Christ, especially since I never left on bad terms with them? I don’t know how much longer Guitar Hero has left on this earth. He’s not old. But, all the same, he has heard the Gospel before.
Then again, I’ve also been told: no reunions. Every time I’ve even entertained the thought of attending one, all sorts of crippling, nasty, or sinful thoughts have invaded. It resulted in my saying “no” each time.
This post is starting to turn into a bit of a mindless ramble. I miss Mark. I do believe he was saved. And one day I’ll see him again.
Then again, I’ve also been told: no reunions. Every time I’ve even entertained the thought of attending one, all sorts of crippling, nasty, or sinful thoughts have invaded. It resulted in my saying “no” each time.
This post is starting to turn into a bit of a mindless ramble. I miss Mark. I do believe he was saved. And one day I’ll see him again.
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