As I collect some of my thoughts regarding my trip to India (some of which I will continue to post here) I thought it would be appropriate to share the  lyrics a song that will appear on “Y,” the 3rd EP in the CMY(K) series. It’s an adaptation of the list Mahatma Gandhi made of  the traits to be the most perilous to humanity:

* Wealth without Work
* Pleasure without Conscience
* Science without Humanity
* Knowledge without Character
* Politics without Principle
* Commerce without Morality
* Worship without Sacrifice

My version goes something like this:

Lord, You know we’ve seen it
Wealth without the work
And pleasure with no conscience 
Both plagues upon the earth

We are overwhelmed; we are overcome
And yet we live in expectation

Lord you know we’ve lived it 
Religion with no cost
Worship that means nothing
Because it does not bear a cross

 We are overwhelmed; we are overcome
And yet we live in expectation

 Science with no heart
Knowledge with no character
Politics without a sense of place
And we’re selling things without a thought
For what we need
And what really cost.

We are overwhelmed; we are overcome
And yet we live in expectation 

Forgive the long silence. I’ve been in the studio recording my next project. The blog will soon be plenty active with conversation about the songs and themes of CMY(K).

In the first part of this two part blog, I wrote about music often considered dangerous by the christian marketplace and suggested that it might be more dangerous to allow the marketplace to determine what is dangerous in the first place.

I also suggested that some of the songs we sing in church are contributing to the sluggishness of many church-goers. I want to be clear here that I am not making a sweeping judgement of ‘church music’ as a whole. I happen to really enjoy a great deal of church music. In this case, the sweeping judgement is not only about the particular songs we sing or listen to, but at least as much about our ability to actually hear what we are listening to.

So, just as it would greatly benefit listeners to take a long look at the lyrical content (and musical craftsmanship) of Arcade Fire’s “The Suburbs” or The National’s “High Violet,”  it would be equally beneficial to take a look at some of the songs churches are already singing and are familiar with.  There are some dangerous songs in rotation Sunday mornings.

For instance…

“In Christ alone my hope is found
He is my light, my strength, my song.”

I’ve sung this or led this song well over one hundred times and it wasn’t until reading Brian J. Walsh’s “Colossians Remixed” that I connected some dots regarding the claim Keith Getty and Stuart Townsend make with the song.

Jesus Christ’s exclusive claim of Lordship (to which the song is referring) stood against the claims of Roman leadership and supremacy.  The community in Colossae (to whom Paul’s letter was written) knew that claiming Jesus was “the image of the invisible God” and that “He is before all things.. in Him all things hold together” would fly in the face of Roman and power.  Walsh writes in Colossians Remixed that

“Proclaiming a lord other that Caesar would result in immediate imprisonment and a closer view of imperial games than anyone would want… a threat to the empire.”

The obvious question here is “Does the exclusive claim to hope only in Jesus sincerely mean something when we sing it?”  Because if the answer is yes, that’s an awfully dangerous thing to claim.  The Supremacy of Christ is a threat to all else. Our comfort, our politics, our career path, etc.. And yet how often have I sung that it is “in Christ alone” that my hope is found but not considered the very real consequences of such a statement?

Earlier this Fall, I wrote a blog entry for the Art House America blog on the relationship between Worship and Justice.  The piece was part of a longer bit I wrote about the triad of Art, Worship and Justice. If you’ve not yet read the initial posting at Art House America, you can do so here. Below is the continuation of that thought.

——

In his book “The Dangerous Act of Worship” Mark Labberton writes

“The perception that issues of justice and issues of worship are separate or sequential or easily distinguishable shows the inadequacy of our theology: both of worship and of justice”
-The Dangerous Act of Worship, Intervarsity Press

I believe that artists are uniquely and particularly positioned to invite and challenge their people to this work of Worship and Justice.  This is so because of the nature of the artistic gift and the authority that gift grants an artist culturally.

The Nature of the Artist’s Gift

Creation was (and is) of value to God because He made it; not because of it’s usefulness.  According the the Genesis account of creation, God created light and immediately called the light “good.”  This despite the fact that, in the creation sequence, much the physical had yet to be created.  Light, the function of which is to make things see-able, was “good”  not because of it’s usefulness but simply because God made it.

It seems to me that the Genesis account of creation establishes a basis for the worth of all things that runs much deeper than utility.  Creation was (and is) of value to God because He made it; it is His,… The innate value of all things rests in their relationship to the Creator.

Similarly, the nature of art proclaims this same value relationship between Creator and creation.  To a songwriter, for instance, a song’s worth is not established by it’s success in the marketplace. Nor does failure in the marketplace detract from that same song’s worth.  Intrinsically, that song’s worth is established in it’s relationship to its artist.  Because of this truth regarding the nature of art, I believe every time an artist makes a piece or writes a story etc… the Creator-creation value relationship is proclaimed.  It is this value-relationship that provides the most consistent foundation for advocacy: The elderly, the poor, the developmentally disabled and the unborn have their worth equally established and maintained in their relationship to the God who made them.  Their inability to contribute to the Market’s bottom line does nothing to detract from their value.

The Authority of Art

Furthermore, art opens doors in the hearts of those who engage it.  The artists behind this work (or in it as the case may be) are granted a peculiar authority to walk through those doors and make suggestions as to how listeners or viewers perceive and interact with reality.  Perhaps because of its much wider cultural accessibility, this is most clearly exemplified in the case of music wherein the fashion of young women can often be directly traced to a particular artist or (on a brighter note) concern for a region of the world can become somewhat fashionable due to the poetic call of another artist or band.   This authority begs the question “how will you use it?”  The other way to ask the same question is to ask “What are you calling your people to?”  I would hope (in fact I would suggest) that

Conclusion

Having an intentional knowledge of both the Nature and Authority of their gift, artists can enter the conversation about art’s role (particularly music’s role) in worship more completely; knowing that music, as form of art, tells a key part of the Story by its very nature; that the authority art gives an artist must be handled with wisdom and that embracing his role as an artist among people means knowingly leading that people in worship that truly transforms their lives and the world in which those lives are led. A worship indistinguishable from the practice of Justice.

She was nearly triple-parked in her gold-ish early 90’s toyota Something-or-other.  The pink (or was it purple?) hair-die in her unkempt mohawk was faded to the point that I could not tell if it was pink or purple.  The back of her car was piled up with what looked like about an apartments worth of belongings; not organized.. just shoved in; the kind of “packing” we do in a hurry of when angry.

She was leaning heavy on her driver side door and smoking so that the ashes would fall to the pavement instead of inside her car… I parked just behind her so that I could get a better look while putting my running shoes on and as I opened my door, I noticed she was listening to the radio quietly and writing. Pink pen. Lined notebook paper, frayed from being ripped out.  Despite the pink pen, the note or letter she was writing was comprised of at least 3 other pen styles and colors; as if it were a letter she’d started and stopped several times before.

I got my running shoes tied on and weaved the wire for my earbuds through my shirt before locking my car and walking her way: I’d have to pass her to get to the head of the running trail.  Before I reacher her car, I saw her jump slightly and say aloud “O, wow,.. Oh, God, Oh, God, Oh, God!”  I though she was noticing me approaching and awoken from some trance.. But no..

She leaned forward and turned up the radio, saying “Yeah, yeah, YEAH!” while pinching her cigarette in the corner of her mouth.

“I’m gonna make a change for once in my life
It’s gonna feel real good
I’m gonna make a difference, gonna make it rii-iiiiight..”

She picked up singing along as the beat dropped…

“As I turn up the collar on my favorite winter coat,
The wind is blowing my mind”

It was quite a moment. I could see tears roll down her cheek beneath her Oakley sunglasses.

Now, this is exactly the kind of scenario I might just as easily make fun of: someone singing along with Michael Jackson in public, with a poorly groomed mohawk,..wearing Oakleys. And perhaps it’s because I just became a father so that everything has a touch more emotional punch to it (this is, of course, greatly aided by not sleeping through the night for a week).  But I was reminded once again of the place music takes us to.. the way a song can find us right where we are and in some way, complete the moment.

Before I hit the trail for my run, I paused at her door and asked “are you alright?”
She didn’t even look up.. she just kept her head moving to the beat and said “Yeah, honey.. I’m gonna be fine.”

Not too long from now, I’ll be sharing a bit more about the heart of this project philosophically.  In the meantime, here’s your second sneak peek at Through Songs I Was First Undone: George Michael’s “Freedom 90.”