A New Law

Beloved

Beloved, these are dangerous times
'Cause you are weightless like a leaf from the vine
And the wind has blown you all over town
'Cause there is nothing holding you to the ground

So now you would rather be
A slave again than free
From the law

Beloved, listen to me
Don’t believe all that you see
And don’t you ever let anyone tell you
That there’s anything that you need
But me

Beloved, these are perilous days
When your culture is so set in it’s ways
That you will listen to salesmen and thieves
Preaching other than the truth you’ve received

Because they are telling lies
For they cannot circumcise
Your hearts

Beloved, listen to me
Don’t believe all that you see
And don’t you ever let anyone tell you
That there’s anything that you need
But me

Beloved, there is nothing more
No more blessings and no more rewards
Than the treasure of my body and blood
Given freely to all daughters and sons

-Derek Webb, She Must And Shall Go Free, "Beloved"

A Song for Year's End

Friday Farrago

• I haven't had time to blog about all the backpacking trips I took over the summer. The season added up to over 200 miles: lots of Ramen and pictures and oatmeal and trail mix and starry nights. Too much to write about, and besides, there's probably been enough blogging about hiking around here already.
  
• Next week I'll be attending a Youth Bible School in Colorado. I don't expect to be blogging, at least not very much. Please pray that the time is profitable.
• In other news, Derek Webb is going to be playing at Fresno Pacific University at 7 PM next Thursday - free. Yes, I'm going to miss it, and yes, I'm disappointed. Go if you can. Derek is an excellent musician and an outstanding songwriter, not to mention a clear bell ringing in the foggy swamp of what passes for Christianity here in America.
• Confession time: I love lolcats. I know it's just another corny internet craze, but I can't help it: I'm even making my own now. I guess I'm just a pushover for feline funniness. Does anyone have the number for Lolcatics Anonymous?

Thinking About Art and Morality

Art is a highly subjective subject. Accordingly, I am not here dealing with art as personal expression, but rather art as cultural and trans-cultural communication. Not the "what" but rather the "why."

(To paraphrase Mark Twain, I am sorry for the long post, but I had not time to write a short one. I trust you understand.)

Primitive cultures had no separate word for "art" - everything was "art." Even the utilitarian making of baskets or weapons was full of art and magic, as seen in the Indian cultures of pre-colonial America or as demonstrated by Tolkien's Elvish craftsmen and weapon-wrights.

We have found it necessary to use the word because our society has developed so many things that are quite obviously "non-art." So many, in fact, that it is more economical to use the term "art" to refer to the positive than it is to develop a term for "non-art" to describe the negative. (May I suggest "politics"?) Artistic things have - sadly - become the exception.

As Christians we subscribe to a particular worldview, a particular epistemology, and a particular artistic perspective. There are things the world celebrates through art that we deplore; there are things the world deplores through art that we celebrate. Perhaps we have missed, however, a third purpose of art: which is to question.

For honest serious-minded people, life is full of questions - indeed, almost characterized by them. From the problem of evil to the problem of existence, the story of any conscientious civilization is the story of a desperate smoke signal for help - like the squiggle rising from the dot in a question mark. [ ? ]

Questions are not un-Christian, but rather simply human. As Socrates said, the only beings who don't ask questions are beasts and gods - because they know too little and too much, respectively. Questions are peculiar to mortals, and constitute an essential part of life. The modern fundamentalist scorn for questions is largely unwarranted. Questions are the "mini-quests" of the larger journey - smoky late-night councils over ancient maps in this epic exploration that is existence.

It is true that Christianity - and more specifically Christ - is the world's greatest answer, or at least the world's greatest hope, if "answer" is too ambitious a word. And so St. Peter says, in essence, "Be ready to give an answer to anyone who asks for a reason for the hope that is in you." (1 Pet. 3:15) We must, however, notice the pattern of initiation in this verse: the Christian was asked. Too often we assume that we have an automatic podium, simply because, after all, we're right - aren't we?

It is precisely here where the bulk of western Christian thought has made a colossal mistake - a mistake so large that it fills your whole field of vision and so goes unnoticed - like when you put your face up close to the bars of a cage and see nothing but freedom. We have made our worldview the point of our art, instead of making art as such. Or, if you like, we have set our worldview above our art, instead of inside it.

Derek Webb articulated this point masterfully in a recent podcast:

I don't think a lot of the idea of promoting yourself or marketing yourself based on your worldview. It just doesn't make any sense. I mean like the longer I do it the less sense it makes to me, and the more it kind of seems to work against me. It's kind of illogical, because Christian music is the only genre that does that...

Thomas Merton said if you're going to be a follower of Jesus and a poet, first, be known as a good poet. Then when people discover your belief, it will lend credibility to your belief. But if you're first a Christian poet, and you're not a very good poet, then it's going to disparage your witness. I think that happens constantly in our market...

I think the idea, the worldview, of Christianity - the idea of following Jesus - is seen as not a very good idea based on the bad art that people make under the heading of Christian art. I think people see bad Christian art, and it makes them less likely to want to even take a look at the person of Jesus, or what it might mean to follow Him.

In a sense, our art should not be so much about giving people the answers as it should be about helping them to ask the right questions. Too often our art - like our evangelism - is full of "strings." We can't seem to give anyone a cup of cold water anymore without slipping a tract inside. And it is precisely this mentality that must be challenged, because the world is very keen about motives. If we can get back to making art for art's sake and loving for love's sake and being good for goodness' sake, we will be closer to the unpretentious simplicity of the gospel.

We don't need more art that moralizes, or sermonizes, or demonizes. We Christians do altogether too much explaining these days. Real art - the art that reaches deep down inside and rekindles the smouldering coals of stifled spirituality - does not explain. It lives.

So much for not being controversial.

Image courtesy of windgrove.com

Music and Mockingbirds

I really like music; in fact, I like it so much that I hardly have any. Let me explain.

There is a difference between a collector and a connoisseur, and I think I crossed the line at some point. A connoisseur's collection grows relatively slowly due to strict standards and discriminating taste. The artists listed in my profile are the only ones that have survived boot camp in my mp3 player. Most do not even gain admission.

I often wish my approach to music was simpler. I have friends who have very broad musical taste and I sometimes catch myself envying them. But there is no use, and so I resignedly go about making my little prison as comfortable as possible.

Speaking of prisons, you may be wondering what that cute little birdie-in-the-cage thingy on the sidebar is all about. And who is Derek Webb?

Derek Webb, a former member of Caedmon's Call, (a band I hope to talk more about soon,) is a bit of a CCM fluke. We are no longer in the current of the mainstream, and do not be surprised if things sound disturbingly unfamiliar at first. But beneath the honesty bordering on bad taste and the insight bordering on the inflammatory, there seems to be a heart that is passionate about both God and reality, a combination that is all too rare these days.

It may be best to allow Derek to speak for himself. In two recent interviews, one with Christianity Today and one as a guest on a podcast (scroll down to interview 2.2), he talks about his perspectives on things, defines what his music is and isn't and why, and tells parts of his story.

Derek has made his latest record, Mockingbird, available for free through the end of the year. This music is not for everyone, and there are several tracks that I rather dislike. But the message, if a little rough around the edges, is penetrating and powerful. There is an incisive music video for Track 2, A New Law, that will really make you think, (and blink.)

I'll admit that this is not a very safe place to start talking about music, which is usually touchy enough already. We may feel a little insecure, a little exposed. But sometimes the ragged edge of Christianity seems closer to the center than the rest of it.

"I don't want to know / if the answers aren't easy / so just bring it down / from the mountain to me / I want a new law..." -Derek Webb, A New Law