On June 21, 1969 I was baptized into hippiedom.
Up until then, I had been a pretty typical middle class kid from the suburbs of London, Ontario, but after that day, my life was never the same. Paul took the Damascus Road. I took the 401 to the Toronto Pop Festival.
There I heard groups like Steppenwolf, Blood Sweat and Tears, Sly and the Family Stone, Procul Harem, The Band and Johnny Winter. But that’s not what changed me. Rather, my “conversion” took place because of some flower children sitting next to my friends and me on the grass of Varsity Stadium as we listened to those bands.
What they did absolutely astounded–and attracted me. They passed food to us, perfect strangers (as well as some pot I must admit). Seems like a fairly insignificant action to be life-changing, but it hit me with full force. I had just never witnessed anything like this.
The revolutionary act of giving freely to someone they didn’t know expecting nothing in return awakened a deep longing in me.
I went back to London, bought my first pair of bell-bottom blue jeans and a bandana to tie around my head. I tie-dyed some t-shirts and devoted myself to growing long hair.
More importantly, I began an earnest pursuit of whatever it was I’d felt that moment on the grass of Varsity Stadium.
I did so for the next four years, but never saw that kind of generosity anywhere in the counter culture again. In fact, as I began to experience the dark world of drugs that overshadowed this culture, it didn’t take long to see I wasn’t going to find what I was looking for there.
But I never stopped looking.
The vision rekindled in a burning blaze of hope the first time I read Jesus’ words:
“Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one’s life for his friends.” Jn.15:13
Once again, something gripped me and wouldn’t let go. The simple profundity of what Jesus’ said stunned me. Something inside said, “That’s it! That’s the vision I’ve been pursuing!”
As I reflect on my Toronto Pop Festival experience, I realize two things attracted me. Firstly, gratuitous goodness, the free sharing with others and secondly, seeing a group of people who appeared to have committed to this value together in what seemed to be a loving community.
Jesus’ life and teaching mesmerized me. He not only taught to love others with no strings attached, he demonstrated it by freely healing and forgiving the weak and vulnerable. Then, in one crowning act, he laid down his life for us, his friends. To put it succinctly, he embodied precisely what I was searching for.
I realized that being deeply knit into a group of people like that would fulfill the dream aroused in the summer of 1969. I’m thankful that churches generally keep the embers of this vision going, but in the words of a well-known U2 song, “I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.”
One concluding thought that makes me hope.
In June 1969 I was young and ready to go with any appealing vision that presented itself. Today, many decades later, I must admit I’m comfortable and not so eager. I realize that older folks need the fire of young people to propel them toward this radical life of a Jesus-centered community.
In that respect, today is an exciting time to be alive because the younger generation is ready to do just that. They are rising up and saying, “We don’t care what denominational shingle you have hanging over your door; we don’t want to spend our lives arguing about doctrine; we want deep spirituality, authentic relationships and we want to do something about the poverty and injustice of the world.” (See Carrey Nieuwhof’s Youtube series on revival for examples.1)
Gen Z is sick of the big show and mass produced Christianity. So, it seems, are many others. I call on those of us who are older to embrace their fire. I pray that people of all ages band together around tables or in living room circles in face-to-face relationships. May our rallying cry be simply for a radical following of Jesus, for a mission to give expecting nothing in return and for a commitment to love one another as Jesus loves us.
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