We have just recently arrived back home after logging our 11th consecutive Cornerstone Festival in Bushnell, Illinois. I think we may be hooked. This year we invited a friend from church to accompany us on our journey. He had a great time, as did we. Every year we come back with special memories and at least one t-shirt per person. Our collection is growing. They become treasured markers of what has transpired in past years.

It’s always difficult for me to capture Cornerstone in words. In my mind, I can see it, and smell it (not always a pleasant thought—porti-potties, overdue showers, un-brushed teeth, and un-shampooed hair.), taste it (ahhh, the iced chai), hear it (well, maybe not, it’s tough to hear anything after numerous days of Cornerstone); but it’s tough to convey the essence of the experience (I apologize for using those last two “e” words so close together, but it’s probably a subconscious outgrowth of sitting in on too many Kierkegaard lectures). It would probably take a trained sociologist to do the festival justice. But as I look back over the last 11 years, I’m thinking: maybe it’s about the t-shirts?

Some people see “community” as one of the main bases of Cornerstone, and t-shirts do tend to foster a closer community. The first official day of the fest, our family was invited to be part of a gathering of CCM, internet dialogue, geek types. They were having a picnic at the fest’s official press tent. While chowing down my deli sandwich, a young lady approached and asked about my gray t-shirt. I was wearing a 5 year old shirt which advertised a local Twin Cities radio program which has since moved to another station. It promoted a morning show on KSTP-AM by proclaiming in large letters across the front “Dead Theologians' Society,” a monthly meeting hosted by the radio personality, Ian Punnett. Below the lettering is a picture of a dead body, feet forward, tag on toe. This gal asked about the shirt and wondered where I lived, and if I listened to this guy’s program. She went on to tell my wife and I that she and her husband used to listen before they moved to Colorado. And then told of how her husband is a big fan and is responsible for all the Christmas music that the host, Ian Punnett, plays each December. The shirt led us into a great dialogue as we started the fest.

The last day, as a “sort of” public service announcement, I wore my blue Cornerstone ’98 shirt, which portrays a young male, electric guitar in hand, with one leg kicking high in the air. In large letters below the young punk is “BRUSH YOUR TEETH.” I feel it’s my duty to broadcast this message. I think it does have an impact. A kid, about age 6, approached me, stared, and then pulled out his instamatic camera and took a picture of the shirt. Then without a word, he just walked away. Mission accomplished, I thought, message taken to heart. He probably didn’t have time to talk. Feeling guilty, I’m sure he was quickly on his way back to his tent to find his toothbrush.

So maybe it is about the shirts. The variety is endless, and I enjoy studying them. Loving to read, it’s hard for me to ignore a t-shirt as it passes. I compare it to driving down the freeway and having to cut across two lanes of traffic, speed up to 75 MPH, and tail some guy, just so I can read the bumper sticker on his SUV. While this of course is dangerous, my obsession with reading slogans and messages on shirts can at times be even more dangerous. Sometimes the merger of an especially long Bible verse on a t-shirt which is overly stretched and forced to follow abundantly curved surfaces can get one slapped. Ah, the dangers of learning.

But the t-shirt that stood out for me this weekend is one that I never even saw. I overheard someone talking about the shirt. It proclaims “I’m a Stoner,” making reference to belonging at CornerSTONE.” Well, I guess that’s me. Every year the festival changes and my interests change, but I still feel a part. It’s always different, but it always fits. It’s a shirt I’m proud to wear. So in that sense, call me a STONER, and may I to allow myself to be molded each year after the Chief Cornerstone while I'm there.

I had thought about going on to blog about the economic impact of the shirt industry and its relationship to Cornerstone, but that will have to wait until another time. The Warden is calling. “Gilmore Girls” is over and she wants to fatten me up. Bon Appetit.