Persons attempting to find a “text” in this book will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a “subtext” will be banished; persons attempting to explain, interpret, explicate, analyze, deconstruct or otherwise “understand” it will be exiled to a desert island in the company of only other explainers.

Yes.
Sir.
Got it.

By no means do I intend to dismantle Trent Reznor’s psyche or read some kind of tacky, machine-molded, pastel and porcelain symbology into George Michael.  I sincerely respect and understand Berry’s warning about our (read: my) propensity to kill something beautiful by cutting it in pieces “figuring it out.”  However, I also heed the wise words of Marilyn Chandler McEntyre, who, in “Caring for Words in a Culture of Lies” writes:

Analysis is an act of love. Reading slowly, carefully, looking for pattern considering word choice, the logic of line breaks, figures of speech, pondering the fitness of images– these require a quality of attention that is comparable to the kind of attending a lover pays to the beloved.

It is in this spirit that, tomorrow, I will begin to take a loving look at the songs I’ve chosen for Through Songs I Was First Undone. To write, lovingly, about what is knowable regarding each song and the ways each has ‘undone’ me.  In certain cases, I’ll also be sharing about studio process and some intentional decisions made while recording in order to draw something out of these very alive and still speaking works.

I’ll begin with Georgia Lee.

Click here to view the embedded video.

It is equally important to recognize the cancer in its smaller, sneakier forms.

Sure, the most of us don’t buy the notion that the Lord is going to “buy me a Cadillac” or what have you.. but the subtle battle of divine expectations is constant and heavy.  For many of us, the experience of a life “in Christ” has been something dramatically different than advertised: Our jobs still get pulled out from beneath our feet, our relationships are still compromised by the worst parts of our nature, our children still die from genetic disorders they were born with and suffer from for no fault of their own… the happenings and circumstances of our lives often remain much the same if not exactly the same in life “with God” as life “without Him” which can lead one to wonder just how much of a difference there is between the two.

NOTHING in all of scripture, much less the long, difficult history of God’s people in relationship with Him proposes that He removes from us these daily burdens.  In fact, among Joy, Gentleness, Peace and the lot, Longsuffering is listed as a fruit of God’s spirit in the lives of those who follow Jesus.

Furthermore, I might even suggest that while Joy and Peace are characteristics one would expect from a person indwelt with the heart of Jesus, Longsuffering is where the rubber meets the road.  When things are brutal.. when dreams and expectations fail… when God disappoints… do I still call God “good”?  When what is “good” to God seems “evil” to me; when God’s hand does not move to alleviate suffering and bring light where darkness has claimed preeminence.. can I submit my will to His and say “not my will, but yours.. not my idea of good but Yours; though it confounds and perplexes and even angers me… You are King and I will trust You despite myself.”

So, while I don’t always click with John Piper, I couldn’t agree more with him in this:

Click here to view the embedded video.

I really believe that atheism, agnosticism and deism are pieces in a conversation much larger than any one of those platforms of belief alone.  For this reason, I’m looking forward to seeing Collision.  From what I can tell from previews and whatnot, it seems to be a pretty well balanced (fair and balanced? lol.. hehe..  ahem…) take on this piece of that conversation:

Click here to view the embedded video.

http://www.collisionmovie.com/

Every year for the past 11 years, this day sneaks up on me and before I realize it, I’m in the middle of it.

On May 6th, 1998, my father ended his own life with a handgun and on may 6th each successive year I remember him a bit more distinctly than on other days.

…I remember him coaching soccer with a Darth-Vader mask on so we’d pay attention.
…I remember him dancing to Elvis without a shirt on.
…I remember him taking me out to go running for the first time.
…I remember he and I running for the last time.
…I remember how old he looked the last year of his life.. far older than he was.
…I remember that he and my mother danced really well together.
…I remember him reading.
…I remember him showing up at everything I did.
…I remember the first time I realized he’d be absent for everything from then on.

I don’t write a whole lot about this subject but it’s not because it is too painful.  Likewise, it’s not because “I’m over it” (whatever it is people mean when they say that).  I don’t bring it up very much because it’s simply become part of who I am, like graduating from college or getting married or attending my first rock show (REM, in case you wanted to know).  The darkness of that event and the shadow that stands in the place my father would normally take in my life are simply part of the landscape now.  Just like the frustration and confusion born in me due to the disappointment of my expectations of God and His goodness are part of my relationship with God.

I live in dichotomy, I live in tension.. and I’m learning that there is no “trick” to resolving or relieving this tension. In fact, it keeps me alive.

Brian Greene recently wrote an article in WIRED magazine about mystery.  He begins by positing the depression that would set in among the scientific community if, under extraordinary circumstances, everything got fixed/solved. He writes…

“Science is the journey.  Science is about immersing ourselves in piercing uncertainty while struggling with the deepest of mysteries. It is the ultimate adventure.”

(Of course, he then goes on to say that we are really just monkeys, that God is not real and that none of this matters because life is meaningless… because he is a scientist, and therefore, an enemy of Truth… right?)

Surely this is not only true of Science but true of life…  and true of Science because it is an examination of life… and surely if Science is driven by mystery and uncertainty, then our religion must be as well…

… and there I go.. going on… preaching to myself; fighting off the lingering grip of unreligious thinking that tells me I will be “whole” when I am unaffected by my history, free of doubt.  But my uncertainties are part of my faith; my history is part of my everyday; my sadness part of my joy; the darker shades of my person differentiate between the lighter shades and all of this is part  of what makes me ..

well..

..whole.  A whole person.  And that is something my father could not see about himself. Because those same unreligious thoughts had convinced him that his failures made him less than human; that only his successes made him worth something.  But he was more than the sum total of his wins and losses.. and because of the sickening emptiness his absence leaves in me, I now know that I am more than that.

“All that is great” the detractors would say.. “but you don’t get a meal.. just peanuts.  Other airlines provide a meal on flights.”   Which is something akin to saying  “Your dog is nice and all but mine came with all these fleas for just $150 more.” I’ll take the peanuts, thanks.

“Funny comparison there, Frodo.” the detractors might say, referencing my height as they always do.. “but you still don’t get an assigned seat.”

This is true.  With SWA, each person is left to choose a seat for his or her own self.  Now, I’m  far more interested in a system that celebrates the freedom of each person to choose their own seat than one in which the Man chooses a seat for me.  I mean, if you want to go the way of the Soviets, you can but I choose Freedom; I fly SWA.  Not to mention the joyous adventure of sitting next to you-don’t-know-who for a few hours.  Just this past year, I sat next to David Spade on a flight.  We had a very nice conversation that went something like this:

Me:  Hey, man…
Spade: …hey…

It was great.

A far better encounter with a fellow SWA passenger took place on a flight home from Chicago.  I was returning after a good-but-tiring run of shows in the Midwest (located a few clicks north of Texas) and was looking forward to shutting down for a bit.   You see, even though I’m a “people person” I have found that I do eventually hit a ceiling, at which point I look to hide for a while.   In this case, the ‘hiding’ started once I got on board that flight for home.  Having been among the first few to board, I chose a window seat on the right side of the plane, put my headphones in my ears, cranked up the “Album Leaf” and leaned against the window to at least pretend that I was asleep.

That’s when Joe sat next to me.  Now, I don’t make a practice out of knowing the names of people who sit next to me ( or at least, I did not before this ).  So, how did I know that this young man’s name was “Joe?” It was because he told me.  You see, only a few short moments after Joe took the middle seat next to me, he broke one of the unspoken rules of commuter travel:

“Thou shalt not strike up conversation until decent”

The beauty of this rule is that it ensures that any conversation you strike up is sure to end in about 20 minutes when the plane lands; protecting both parties from having to pretend for any serious period of time to be interested in one-another’s lives.  Perhaps Joe had not traveled much, but for whatever reason, he was entirely unfamiliar and un-committed to the keeping of this rule.  In fact, Joe was not simply talking to me, he was leaning across both his seat and mine and from a firing range of only a few inches, riddling me with a barrage of words that shook me from the meditative state my music had lulled me to…

“Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me, sorry, pardon me, hey there, excuse me, sir, um, hi, sorry, excuse me, buddy, pardon me, excuse me, excuse me, sorry, pardon me, um, hey there, excuse me, sir, um, hi, sorry, excuse me, pardon me, excuse me, excuse me, sorry, pardon me, hey there, excuse me, sir, um, hi, sorry, excuse me, pardon me, um.. Hi.”

I stirred, pulled by headphones out of my ears and mashed-up a few words to greet him with the now irreplaceable man-speak ‘heymanwassup?”  Joe smiled and perked up as if he had suspected I was dead at first.  “What’s your name?” he asked.

“My name is Justin” I replied
“Hi, Justin. My name is Joe.  Can you help me with my seatbelt?”

Just as he said it I was noting that he held both ends of his seat-belt in his hands and was stretching them as far as they would go towards me.  He had been sitting in that seat for probably 3 minutes wrestling with the belt and clip.  As it turns out (in conversation with Joe and his parents who were sitting elsewhere on the plane) Joe is autistic.  Because he’d never used this kind of belt before, he was confused as to where to begin.  I showed him how to clip the belt and tighten it.  At which, he undid the belt and repeated the steps I’d shown him several times, each with increasing interest and a larger smile.

Just as I began to lean back against the window (having done my christian duty for the day), Joe energetically turned to me and asked…

“Who’s your favorite baseball team?”
“Um.. Well, I’m an Oakland A’s fan.” I told him.

He booed.

And not just that comical “just kidding” boo.  It was the kind of boo that says “your team has traded away more good talent in the last seven years than it could wisely afford to lose, has blown 2-game playoff leads to both the Red Sox and Yankees in recent years and will probably never get out of the first round of the playoffs.”  er… maybe that’s just the way I heard it.

“I take it you don’t like the A’s, huh?” I asked him
“No, I like the Cubs.”  (we can all appreciate the irony of Cubs fans booing anyone.. I mean, really?)

We went on talking for most of the flight about baseball, comics and a smattering of other topics.  At one point the SWA flight attendant handed out those beloved peanuts.  I tore a pair of bags open with my patented McRoberts Double-Peanut-Bag Tearing Method.  Joe, on the other hand couldn’t quite get the bag open.  Without asking, he handed both bags of peanuts to me and waited for me to open them.  Now, in many instances this might be considered inappropriate or even rude.  But Joe doesn’t see the world the way most folks do.  In fact, Joe sees the world a bit more clearly than most folks do.

To Joe, our proximity comes along with responsibility/opportunity.  In fact, that proximity (the simple fact that I was sitting next him) meant to Joe that when he ran into trouble of any kind (seatbelt use, snack access etc..) I was responsible for providing him help.  To Joe, we weren’t just in the same city together (Chicago), we were at the same airport (Chicago-Midway), in the same terminal (B) at the same gate (14) and on the same plane headed to the same destination (Oakland)… In Joe’s mind, these things don’t just happen.  These things are not just chance.  In Joe’s mind, these things at least add up to responsibility if not opportunity.

Now, you may not buy this whole “we’re all connected” stuff; but then again, you may not buy soap.  In my own journey, the more I learn about the “root causes” of tragedies like extreme poverty, human trafficking or the abortion epidemic the more I see that these things are not so much the product of evil deeds by evil men as they are products of the absence of action/love.  Certainly, there are bad people doing bad things in dark corners of the world, but they don’t actively keep clean water out of the reach of the 1 billion who live without access to it.

As evidenced by my self-characterization in this story, I generally live under the impression that I can ‘do good’ when I choose to (and likewise, evil) but until that point I’m just living.  I’m beginning to learn that’s not the case.  What I do and what I don’t do have repercussions far beyond my control and intention.  What is more… the folks I cross paths with as I go about my life are not just scenery.. they’re not just ‘there’; often they are the woman who can’t stop bleeding and needs the healing of intentional proximity; often they are in possession of the healing I need myself and just as likely both things are true at the same time.

If you knew what would happen and made us just the same,
You, My Lord, can take the blame.

So the evening began in song with David Bazan; the same way that my engagement with his work has always been.  His challenge to the “assumed goodness” of God pushing me to search my own heart for similar untested assumptions, contradictory premises, doubts, frustrations… his courage in doing so freeing me to find the darker corners of my own mind with less fear and, in that way, greater faith.

Bazan was in Grand Rapids (as was I) to participate in the Festival of Faith and Music (of which I will write a bit more in the near future).  Along with playing a set on Thursday night, Bazan talked with NPR’s Jessica Hopper about… well… faith and music.  He reflected on his own history as a songwriter as well as the music he’s listened to over the years.  He continued to point at moments in songs or albums that unsettled him in relationship to christianity.

Between times and during late nights, I had the pleasure of finally talking with him quite a bit about his new record, house shows, his Pedro days, christian bumper stickers and festivals we’d never play again.  Those conversations only made the songs from his next release “Curse Your Branches” (August 09) more intriguing to me. He is calling “Branches” his first truly autobiographical piece.  It’s an autobiography I’ve been hoping to hear for a while as it is specifically focused on his distancing from christianity.

The title track is highlighted by this masterful chorus…

..falling leaves should curse their branches
For not letting them decide where they should fall
And not letting them refuse to fall at all

While he has always been comfortable in a critical posture towards christianity for it’s … well.. being all “christian” and stuff, Bazan, in song and in conversation, does not seem at all settled on the distance between himself and God.  He directs his discontent back toward the space God previously occupied, singing:

In my throat, there swells a darkness
It fills my mouth, and coats my lips
And even as the threat of Hell is disappearing,
The threat of losing you is blowing up..

For those of us who have been listeners of Bazan’s since early Pedro the Lion, this tension he creates by directing his frustration and confusion at a God whose character is awfully confusing, a God he is not sure exists and is the root of his frustrations to begin with is exactly why we love his music; because for many of us, this has been at least part of our experience of faith.  For many of us, christian art, whose songs of doubt are generally tamed with an overly obvious and predictable happy ending of unwavering assurance or whose stories of tragedy are most often girded with the glaring undertone that “everything is going to be just fine in the end,” not only misrepresents our experience thus far, but leaves us with a sense that something is very wrong with our own weak faith.

Similar to writers like Frederick Buechner, David Bazan provides a place for skeptics, poets and the religiously frustrated to find some normality.  A place where doubt is not a disease or a phase that needs to be medicated, grown out of or explained away but actively wrestled with;  a place where frustration with God and confusion at who He is becomes part of the journey itself; where the decision to continue engaging, even if it’s only to shout into the dark space we thought God had been living all this time, is an act that is full of faith.

In William Faulkner’s “As I Lay Dying,” he uses one of his character’s voices to critique the religious compromise we make with doubt, writing

“…sin and love and fear are just sounds that people who never sinned nor loved nor feared have for what they never had and cannot have until they forgot the words.”

Bazan’s life and work have given shape to Sin and Love and Fear for many of us who could find few if any fleshly, mortal connections with these realities in the artistic expressions of faith offered by popular religious culture.  The art he’s produced in the throes of doubt, alcoholism and folly have served as the tragedy that some of us have lacked the vitality to suffer for ourselves; in the light of which art, our own process of redemption or restoration has fuller meaning rather than being the half-lived half-truth that is the result of the half-thinking compromise we strike with our often half-conceived idea of God.

The following night after Bazan’s show, Cornell West highlighted the role of death in christian life; particularly the death of ideas, prejudices and suppositions.  That same night in the middle of a conversation about the history of either losing or letting go of things he had previously thought necessary for life and faith, Bazan listed a few of the influences that had been his guides along the way; just about all of them being songwriters.  He paused for a moment and then said “I guess it is through songs that I was first undone.”

One places dog-doodie in a paper bag and then lights that paper bag on fire on the doorstep of a particular unlucky neighbor.  The elated prankster, after lighting the bag aflame, rings the doorbell of the unlucky neighbor (who is likely the father of some young woman who was probably of of the prankster’s league anyway…) and runs away.  When the unlucky neighbor opens his door, he is left with the unlucky choice of either letting the bag burn, posing what threat fire may be or stomping out the flame, thereby putting his or her foot in the poopous caninous.

The more I read about and wrestle with CA Proposition 8, the more I feel like that unlucky neighbor, left with a choice between two rather unsavory options.  A “Yes” vote or a “No” vote on this Prop equally misrepresent my worldview.  In fact, I am of the opinion that this conversation or debate is taking place in the wrong arena and at the wrong trajectory altogether.

My decision to abstain from voting on Prop 8 is not a matter of the marital rights of homosexuals or even the preservation of the institution of marriage (though I will say more on this later); it is strictly a matter of the relationship between the Church and the State.

That marriage is a union between a man and women, approved by God and held together by His Grace and His People is a uniquely religious understanding.  In fact, part of the sacred nature of marriage is derived from the very fact that marriage’s blessedness is rooted in this religious understanding and NOT the laws of the land.  In the eyes of the state, marriage is not sacred and has never been.  The case for the sanctity of marriage is lost the moment we attempt to make it on the State’s terms.

It is greatly unfortunate (though understandable) that the language in California’s Family Code uses the world “marriage” at all.  I think much of our issue originates here.  The word is culturally convenient, yes; but it is also loaded with a long history of religious context and content.  The State’s definition of marriage does not include this unique context, making the use of it, as it pertains the the States responsibility to its citizens rights, rather messy.  Oh, how things would be if in 1977, when the Code was written they had used any other word… Civil Union… Banana Pancake… Anything.

Tony Campolo simplifies this thought when he writes:

“I propose that the government should get out of the business of marrying people and, instead, only give legal status to civil unions. The government should do this for both gay couples and straight couples, and leave marriage in the hands of the Church and other religious entities. That’s the way it works in Holland: If a couple wants to be united in the eyes of the law, whether gay or straight, they go down to city hall and legally register, securing all the rights and privileges a couple has under Dutch law. Then, if the couple wants their relationship blessed – to be married – they go to a church, synagogue or other house of worship.

“Marriage should be viewed as an institution ordained by God and should be out of the control of the state. Of course, homosexual couples could go to churches that welcome and affirm gay marriage and get their unions blessed there, but isn’t that the way it should be in a nation that guarantees people the right to promotion religion according to their personal convictions?”

I believe in the sanctity of marriage and that the biblical definition of this relationship, including the exclusivity of male and female relationships,  is the most complete and best definition and understanding.  But I do not believe the state’s responsibility extends to the defense of that understanding or definition.  I believe that a case needs to be made for marriage but only in the same way that I believe that a case needs to be made for the whole of the christian life and marriage as a part of that.  But I do not believe that the case is made well by Proposition 8.  A “Yes” vote seems to ask the state to affirm a uniquely religious definition of marriage and that is not the State’s role and, if anything, this lessens the case for the goodness of the christian life by asking the State to affirm and defend the sacred nature of our way of life rather than simply protecting our right to live that way.

Meanwhile a “No” vote makes the issue no clearer and is no progression towards “tolerance.”  It is not in the State’s power to bestow the blessing of God upon a marriage  and meanwhile there are numerous religious communities who recognize same sex unions as “marriage.”  Let me also be clear here in saying that “Yes” voters are not bigots by default.  I realize that it is simpler to rally against a mass of the simple-minded.  But the people who wrote and defend the proposition hold to a particular knowledge of marital relationships. As a believer, I see the world as working in a particular way and believe that when we move in a way contrary to what is designed or intended, we do violence to ourselves and our world.  For the vast majority of “Yes” proponents there is, at heart, a sincere motivation to shape the world around them to the best and healthiest way; for them it is not about hate or bigotry at all.

Furthermore, whether the prop passes or fails, the opposition will take the issue back to court after which we will see another proposition and then another court case and onward towards the dull eternity of heartless, opposition politics.  The hope of the christian community will continue to rest in a show of strength to stave off the wave of it’s “opposition.”  This is, of course, how we find ourselves here.

I’d like to change the tone here and make a broader statement in the direction of my family, the Church.  Whether you decide to vote “no” or “yes” on this proposition, do not be deceived by the notion that the conversation ends there.  There is a case to be made for the life you have chosen…

A friend of mine who pastors a church in the Mission District of San Francisco where the church’s intersection with gay culture has been greatly publicized and often distorted has many stories to tell about his own church’s involvement in the collision of what many, if not most, would consider opposing cultures.  My pastor friend (whom, in an effort to protect the identity of my subjects I will henceforth refer to as “Thor, god of thunder”) tells a story about his church’s more redemptive role in the relationship between gay culture and the Church right around the same time Mayor Gavin Newsom opened the doors of City Hall to gay marriages.

There had been a series of break-ins in the neighborhood around “Thor’s” church, including a break in at the home of a same-sex couple in an apartment attached to and owned by the church.  The couple lost quite a bit and much of what remained was trashed.  In the midst of all the clamorous noise created by the clash of opinions and agendas focused on the topic of gay marriage in SF, a very quiet, seemingly small thing happened in the direction of healing.  A group of elderly women from the Thor’s church went shopping.  They went out and bought gift cards from bed Bath and Beyond, from Crate and Barrel and from Pottery Barn.  Then they baked some cookies (because that is what women over 70 do when they get riled up… they bake) and paid a visit to these young men, stating simply “We attend the church around the corner and we heard about what happened.  We just wanted you to know that we love you and we’re sorry for what happened here.”

I do believe that the people of God need to make a case for marriage; much in the same way I  believe we need to make a case for the christian life as a whole, and marriage as a part of that life.  I sincerely wonder if, unless we are able to make the statement made by the elderly women of that church, that we are willing to actively share the burdens and joys of life with the homosexual community, we have any right to make any other statement at all.  One of the principles I learned on Young Life staff is that one can only instruct a person (and how much more so and entire culture) so far as we are willing to love that them;  That the effectiveness of transformational discipleship does not hinge on the strength of my case, my ability to make it or the volume with which I do, but on the depth to which the person I am working with knows they are loved.

Put another way

“…when these referendums come up in state after state after state, I think that the Roman Catholic bishops were right when they said, ‘We do not approve of this form of behavior but we will not allow anyone to take the rights away from those who are citizens of this country.’  Because I want to tell you something:  After you say ‘You can’t live in my community’; after you’ve said “You can’t teach in my school”; after you’ve said ‘You can’t go to my church’ and after you’ve said ‘You can’t come to my college’… after you’ve said all of this stuff – don’t think for one moment it’s going to wash when you smile that plastic smile that I see in the Christian community and say, ‘But we love you in the name of Jesus.’

-Tony Campolo

I fear that the case we have too often taken has been one of protectionism and fear rather than a sincere desire to see the transformation of the neighborhoods we live in; too often we’ve acted out of a desire to create an environment in which we feel safer and more comfortable to live the way we have chosen (this is actually the very topic that originally spawned the song “Safe“).  This leads me to a final and brief word on fear…

Much has been made in the case for Prop 8 about the long-term consequences of a “No” vote:  Marginalization of the church, law-suits, etc… The images amount to a picture of persectution.  Have we grown so comfortable?  Were we not warned?

18“If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first. 19If you belonged to the world, it would love you as its own. As it is, you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world. That is why the world hates you. 20Remember the words I spoke to you: ‘No servant is greater than his master.’^[a] If they persecuted me, they will persecute you also. If they obeyed my teaching, they will obey yours also. 21They will treat you this way because of my name, for they do not know the One who sent me.

-John 15:18-21

Christians have chosen to live in a way that is sincerely counter-cultural.  There are consequences to this choice. Our King was crucified and we ought to expect no less for ourselves.  I believe that part of living counter-culturally often means making our case in a different arena.  The court and the state are very rarely that arena.

Click here to view the embedded video.

As an example, a proclaimed christian political figure recently made the statement publicly that “We see America as the greatest force for good in this world.”  Can we see the distortion in this statement?  The GREATEST force for GOOD in the world is one of its nations?  This idea is rooted in the notion that America’s particular way of being is, as a whole, beneficial to the entire globe.  Is it the American way of living and being that we are committed to multiplying throughout the earth?  Is this what is good?

As responsible citizens we have a responsibility to be culturally critical.  It should be a given that our first allegiance is to a King and a Kingdom, yet somehow being a follower of Jesus has come to be equated to being a patriot, while in the meantime, being a patriot has come to mean having a nearly blind allegiance to and defense of “the American Way.”  But even the briefest critical look at the Way of Jesus and the “American Way” makes clear that there are some rather large gaps between the two.

As an example, the emphasis on productivity and growth as a determinant of worth and success has gone greatly unchecked here in the States.  While this characteristic is not entirely unique to America (China seems to hold its own in this regard), I can only speak to the length of my own experience and understanding, which is with American culture.  While the size of the average home in the US has grown almost exponentially in the past few years, the number of people living in those homes has declined by an equally alarming rate… Fewer people needing more space; is this a life-principle worth passing on to the rest of the globe?
Even the sacred concept of freedom we find at the center of much patriotic conversation has morphed into an idea more closely tied to limitlessness (and that limitlessness tied to consumer greed) more characteristic of gods than humble, responsible human beings.  As Wendell Berry writes;  “Hell is the place where we believe no limits apply, where we believe our power and knowledge to be limitless, and thus become slaves to our appetite and lose freedom in the name of false liberty. “ (Read the rest of this article here.)

The US victory over the Nazis reinforced the idea that America was on the side of good by its very nature.  It is this dangerous mixture of political and religious zeal that certain political elements have seized in an effort (and a successful one at that) to solidify political allegiance among evangelical christians.  “Good” in this light has come to be closely and deeply tied to “American” and has us held so closely to it’s bosom that we cannot see our beloved nation from a sufficient distance to judge its health.

Now, besides the fact that empires who claim the will of God moves upon their moving have a rather nasty track record, the people of God living in a nation gone awry have often had much explaining to do when they’ve assimilated to that nation’s ways.  In this light, being critical IS being a patriot.

America and the Soul

Click here to view the embedded video.

Click here to view the embedded video.

The actual conversation I am referencing was one in which the Pope, after seeing Michelangelo’s David asked Michelangelo “How do you know what to cut away?” The artist replied, “I cut away everything that is not David.” This is the heart of the song “Deconstruction.”

Deconstruction is not a function of a lack of faith. Nor is deconstruction a function of a mind with a disregard for (or even mistrust of) truth. It is, in fact a necessary and responsible activity of a vibrant and living faith; faith that if I shake it all down and tear away what is superfluous, I will be left with what is essential, true and beautiful. Faith that I cannot evade the truth and that, should I sincerely seek Truth, I will either find it or be found by It.

Tearing away the superfluous can be, and often is, extremely nerve-racking. I would imagine that Michelangelo’s work near the ankles of the David, which is nearly 14 feet of solid marble, was somewhat daunting as well. Without belittling the skill and magic of one of history’s greatest artists, one might imagine that he was extremely cautious when determining what of the marble to remove in order to shape ankles that would support David’s body while remaining proportionate in relation to the rest of the piece. He cared about the piece first and foremost; believed that there was an image to be discovered.

When it comes to American culture and it’s relationship to Jesus, I believe that, similarly, there is much that is superfluous: Allegiance to a particular political platform; an extremely limited notion of the role of art; an unhealthy suspicion of science overall; assumptions about the nature of human sexuality; an assumed agreement on the preferred method of dealing with abortion; an assumed agreement with market principles or even an assumed agreement regarding the superiority of a particular economic theory; a narrowing understanding of the goal of education; the assumption that our nation is inherently “good” or at least on the side of “good”… Etc..

(As a kind of side note, the intimate relationship Christianity has with America and her ways is particularly disturbing. A christian’s questioning US foreign or domestic policy ought not be met with questions and suspicions about his allegiance to Jesus Christ and His Kingdom. The fact that this happens is evidence to me that, for too many of us, they Way of Jesus and the way of America are either one and the same or so closely related that we cannot separate the two. Love for my country should not look the same as love for my God.. but that’s another blog.)

Yet just as with Michelangelo’s great piece, deconstruction of the superfluous in American culture and religious life means removing at least some that is difficult to remove in fear that the whole structure of what we have determined as Truth may collapse. But if we believe in truth as Truth there need be no fear. This is the major difference between the philosophical reality of the christian journey and the creation of Michelangelo’s David; there was a legitimate cause to be concerned that the artist’s beautiful creation could be toppled by either a mistake of his own hand or the violence of others. If I ‘believe’ in God as God and not as an Idea, I should suffer no such fear. My fear shouldn’t be that I may topple the image of Christ but instead that, in an effort to support that Image, I might bury it beneath those very ‘supports.’

Deconstruction is a necessary element in the effort to discover, from beneath the ruined and rotten corpse of cultural consumer religion, a political energy that is rooted in a desire for redemptive justice rather than party affiliation and the defeat of ‘the opposition’; to discover or rediscover the power of the teachings of Jesus; to rediscover what it in fact means to ‘be saved’, to be a ‘christian” or to even have or be a ‘soul’ at all.

The song Deconstruction is the heart of an album that I hope inspires its listeners towards a healthy re-examination of established religious, consumer and scientific world-views.

Click here to view the embedded video.