Sunday cont.

The concert was inspired. We were sitting so uncomfortably during the opening act, on our kneels either on the floor in front of the kneeling bench or on the 5 inch long kneeling bench itself, so we decided to sit in the aisle on the floor. We walked downstairs and to the front of the altar where about 10 kids were already sitting. The marble floor was ice cold. Like the floor of a cave that keeps the same temperature year-round. I imagined that it was the same temperature as it was in the 1600's when it was first built. As if the church were finished in the middle of winter and the marble blocks never got the chance to warm up. St. Jakobs Church was built in 1624 in the late Rennaissance style with Baroque and modern additions added later. I looked straight up and there was a sun-dial on the ceiling of the dome. The lights went down as we decided to sit on our sweatshirts and bags to keep our asses from freezing off. Jose Gonzalez walked on the stage quietly and unassuming. People clapped tentatively, unwilling to disturb the peace of the church. He picked up his guitar and started playing. The bass notes resonated deeply through the empty space and echoed off the stone and small stained-glass windows. It was haunting at times being there so close to the prototypical concentration camp for the entire genocidal movement of the Nazi's. Dachau, where nearly 200,000 people were exterminated. There have been several moments where I felt so close to that history and felt a chill. One night Leah and I were going for a walk and she said, "I think that was the Nazi headquarters. Where's Hitler's office was." for example. He played a few songs on his own and then his band came out. They looked like two college students who had helped organize the tour or something. The bongo player had on an Auburn University sweatshirt which looked like it came from a second-hand store in the States. They played minimalist percussion which added a huge sound to Jose's melodic acoustic picking and strumming. The bongo player was tapping his foot on a guitar case and it sounded like a full bass drum.
I stared at him in awe with the crucifix hanging morose behind him. It was a transcendent moment. Time and space disappeared and I was sitting in sanctuary immune from change and the outside world. The church, the town, World War II, Hitler, Nazi, Munich, Germany, 2008, 1933...nothing...just this song and the rhythm and this moment.