ideaExchange is a discussion series sponsored by St. Benedict’s Table and hosted by Aqua Books. The wife and I dropped in on the event this evening a few minutes late after staying just a bit too long at the Kam Koon Garden where we were consuming some outstanding Chinese food. (Kam Koon is highly recommended.) Normally the subject matter is discussion-oriented, but this evening the series wound up for the summer (to resume fall 2006) with a “song exchange” featuring a number of musicians who hang with St.Ben’s & Co. Well-written songs still present ideas, so it was on point. This venue and format allowed for the presentation of some of their new material as well as some of the material that doesn’t quite “fit” into the music slots in the Sunday evening gatherings.

For example, there was Mike Koop doing a hymn — which as he explained, is the only hymn that uses the word “shit” — titled “Death Cures Everything.” Difficult to argue with, and very catchy… had most of the gang singing along on the chorus, “Death cures everythin'” Then there was Alana Levandoski doin’ her thang, top-notch in the lyric department as always. But my moment of the evening probably goes to Jenny Moore (who’s playing tomorrow, Sunday night at the Elephant & Castle), who introduced a song she wrote based on the Lord’s prayer, saying, “I added some stuff. I don’t know if you’re allowed to do that with the Lord’s prayer, but…” The song followed, and Jenny, you go right ahead and add. Reading doesn’t offer the benefit of the music and vocal, but:

Our Father, who art in Heaven,
…
Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done,
On earth as it is in Heaven;
Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done,
Right here as it is — at Home.
…

Okay, if you didn’t put in an involuntary pause after “at Home,” go back, read it again, and manually insert one there, but make it “at Home.” Let it sink in. This place is not home, and in praying for the Kingdom, we’re praying that God would make it more like home. Maybe it’s just me, but when Jenny sang that this evening, I had one of those involuntary pauses that comes with an insight — one of those ones there’s no reason you shouldn’t have seen before, but somehow it never dawned on you until just that instant.