Coachella as a Christian 

Haha if it weren’t for the alliteration and the accuracy, I wouldn’t use this dumb title. But what with the controversy and dichotomy of the two words, how can I not?

I tried to touch on this concept in my last post but failed miserably – I’d blame the three day fever but Mercury is also in retrograde, so there’s a lot going on. 

I am two things at this point in my life: Hungry & Christian.

I don’t mean hungry in that it’s 7:45 PM and I’ve gone straight from work to yoga and now feel as though I need a Tartufo pizza from  800 Degrees the same way one needs water in the desert; but rather, in the way a lot of us millennials feel – hungry for life. 

We have this pit deep inside of us, somewhere near our souls. It bubbles over with energy, and simultaneously demands to be filled.

It’s biologically how we’re predisposition in order to foster goals and risks. As a side effect we crave adventure, skills, knowledge, life. We fill our hole with school, sports, parties, celebrities, festivals, games and activities. The list of things we choose to expel energy on is endless.

Conversely, despite all the really cool things I’ve done, the only One who’s ever satiated this craving is, of course, God.

Because of these two things, I’ve found the only way to live my life is exactly as my pastors direct us to – with Jesus. So I live life to the fullest whilst keeping my buddy Jesus with me at all times. It’s cool cause He fits in my heart just like all the Christian rock songs assert.


So Coachella. Here’s how it went:

The AttireIs modest in fact hottest? (It is in the desert! get it? heh..)

Attire was an easy one to prep for. Directly before we left, Pastor Cody gave a very uncomfortable sermon on sexuality and the Bible.  For the most part it was geared towards the young men in the room. But he touched breifly on the way his female flock tends to dress for music festivals.

Now, one of the biggest hinderances I have with my generation is our desperate desire for nudity. We want to be able to bare it all, and publicly. We want to own our bodies through display. But this seems so backwards to me.

My body is mine… and so I keep it mine.

To put it in another way – one of my favorite things about myself is my natural ability to create things. As a result it’s only once I’ve let you into my circle that I’ll begin to show you this and send you homemade cards. It’s something intimate to me, it’s important to me, and so I keep it private.

But in our society, intimate no longer seems to be a synonym for private.

Let it also be known that I am a proud feminist. My body is mine and not yours is an idea that goes hand in hand with feminism the same way I have the right to bare my body does.

I firmly believe that we, as a female population, so desperately needed the phrase slut shaming the same way we desperately needed the term fuckboy. Both combat the unfair standards placed upon women.

By society’s standards, which for so long have been my own, asking his female flock not to dress like “sluts” is slut shaming. But asking us to respect ourselves regardless of our surroundings is also an act of love. Slut Shaming is a combative term, but the only thing my pastor is trying to combat is cultural norms that tell us we should bare all.

Yes, you have a right to wear pasties and short shorts and girl you look great, I have no right to judge you. But I, as a woman, am so sick of the pervy, unwarranted male attention as is. I have too many things to accomplish to be bogged down by that sort of thing.

The Raging  

This was an easy one. Despite what ya’ll think and despite my past as the Pied Piper of Partying, going in with the mind frame of what would Jesus do instead of what should Jordan not do made life easy peasy. Jesus would dance obvi. And nap. And considering He liked His wine, I drank my Titos responsibly.

The Love 

This was the most unexpected side effect of attending Coachella as a Cognizant Christian (haha I just made it worse).. I have been to so many music festivals of all kinds and never have I had such a great weekend. To begin with, I was blown away by the generosity of these guys whom I’ve never met before. They kindly made room for me on their Tempurpedic, on their golf carts, and in their lazy river. It made it easy to share as much I could  back – chips, bagels, vodka, multivitamins, Neosporin, sunscreen.

By the end of the weekend, despite sharing all that I’d brought with me and even leaving a few things behind, I felt no deficit.

The Conclusion

To be honest, I hesitated really committing to God for a while because I thought it would result in the stunting of my life; I thought I would be actively choosing boredom over adventures. But it’s the exact opposite; if anything my adventures are much more complete and fulfilling.

And while things like Coachella make me question my choice to leave the safe, secular world, it was Coachella itself that confirmed I’d made the right decision. And that God loves us so. He has no desire for me to grow into someone boring and unhappy (Thank The Heavens, Hallelujah, Can I get an Amen!).

Also, as a bonus I totally remember the entire weekend! Woop. The best kind of adventures are the ones you remember, let me tell ya.

…As far as my brain is concerned I’ve never been to Vegas; but at least it knows I’ve been to Coachella!



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