Evangatology: Theology, Evangelicals, Eschatology

"The Life of the World to Come"

2009-10-13T12:24:00.000-07:00

The problem with “Christian Contemporary Music”, as I’ve often articulated to those who are bored enough to listen, is that it’s far, far too obvious. While there’s a place for songs which simply sing the Bible back to us, or rephrase important theological truths, this seems (within evangelical circles) to have extended a little too far. Christian music aimed outside of the “Praise and Worship” category all too often adopts the tired bombast of whatever is currently pleasing American radio listeners and mixes it with trite theological summaries. The question which “CCM” always raised for me was why it should be considered a separate category of music at all. As Christians our attitude to art should surely not force a false secular/sacred dichotomy. Surely our artistic endeavours should be produced as an overflow of our relationship with Christ – an overflow which will express itself not in simple textual repetition of the Bible, but in a dynamic expression of that encounter. This will, I suppose, produce poetry, abstract works, even expressions which might traditionally be classified as “mystical”. Some of the best Christian artists working today (see Sufjan Stevens, Bodies of Water, The Innocence Mission, The Welcome Wagon, Bill Mallonee) reflect this kind of encounter in their lyrics – expressions and stories which strike the listener as initially destabilising and potentially allegorical, but eventually relocate us in a way in which we encounter Christ and experience God’s presence in a new (and unexpected) way.

A wonderful example of this kind of radical re-imagining and response to (specifically) the Bible is the fantastic new Mountain Goats record, “The Life of the World to Come”. John Darnielle, the singer-songwriter who largely comprises the ‘Goats has produced twelve tracks based around different scripture verses. Although not overtly Christian himself (at least not in the sense many Evangelicals would define the term), Darnielle’s work offers a fresh (and often heartbreaking) look at a something of what the Bible can say into contemporary culture. These, it won’t surprise you to learn, are not composed of exegesis – instead Darnielle has constructed beautifully detailed vignettes flowing from the text as a starting point; “twelve hard lessons the Bible taught me, kind of” in his own words. Take “Genesis 3:23” for example. The exile from Eden becomes a meditation on the return to an old house to “see how the people here live now/ Hope that they’re better at it than I was”. Forced to pick the locks to enter, Darnielle muses on the failures and disappointments of dashed hopes. Returning to his own home he, like Adam and Eve, is forced to contemplate the newly open and uncertain world. Even the stars now appear “like teeth in the mouth of a shark”.

The album often produces the most unexpected readings. Take, for example, “Deuteronomy 2:10”. The verse recalls the strength of the now dead Emites, which Darnielle re-tells through the story of a soon to be extinct flightless bird, musing on the impermanence of its own nature (“I sang all night/ the moon shone only through the trees/ No brothers left/ There’ll be no more after me”). The final track “Ezekiel 7 and the Permanent Efficacy of Grace” (which wins points as the most theological title of the year) is a stark reminder of final judgement. The verse (subtitled “The End is Come” in the NIV) deals with “Disaster! An unheard of disaster is coming!” (Ezk. 7:5). The narrator of the song, clearly aware of his own criminal guilt (“I had his arms tied up behind him”), attempts to flee the judgement he knows is coming (“Drive till the rain stops…keep driving”) all the while aware of what is approaching (“The clouds explode, the desert blooms”).

If that seems a little morose, then there are plenty of happier moments as well. “Philippians 3:20-21” is a meditation on the difficulties of theological knowledge. The tale of a man who spent his life seeking theological truth, Darnielle examines the responses of those left behind (“The nice people said he’d gone to God now”), whilst examining the uncertainty of all theological knowledge. “Well the path to the palace of wisdom/ that the mystics walked/ is lined with neurologists and electric shocks,” Darnielle reminds all professional theologians. In the context of this verse, this seems to be a plea to stop worrying about theological minutiae which will eventually drive us insane, instead trusting in God. Most inspiring of all (from a personal point of view) is Romans 10:9. The tale of a man who is at the end of his tether is couched as a wonderful inner monologue attacking his own depression. “Try to fix myself, but everything seems to end up in a cul de sac” he admits, before finally confessing that while “everything looks burned up” he will “make a joyful sound”. That sound is, unsurprisingly, Romans 10:9 itself: “If you will believe in your heart, and confess with your lips, surely you will be saved one day”. As a statement of hope in the face of uncertainty, hope against hope, it stands as one of the most inspirational songs I’ve heard in years.

I could go on, analysing every song on this majestic record, but I’ll end here. The artistic approach adopted by Darnielle strikes me as hermeneutically and artistically interesting, and as providing the necessary counterpoint to the identikit responses to the Bible which often pass themselves off as Christian music.

An Update

2009-04-28T11:39:00.000-07:00

For those wondering where I've been, I just thought I'd confirm that I've not been infected with swine flu, abducted by aliens, or swiftly despatched by a New World Order marksman. I've simply been too busy to blog over the past couple of months. The good (?) news is that I will be submitting my PhD within the next two weeks, if all goes to plan. After that, updates should be more regular, though whether the content will be any good is anyone's guess. One thing I will be posting is a seminar paper on "Doctor Who and Derrida" that I'll be working on post-submission.

In the mean time, everybody should read Steve Holmes' thoughtful analysis of what it means to be Reformed in a theological world dominated by the Piper's and Driscoll's. Steve, as usual, articulates things in a far better way than I could ever hope to.

St. Augustine on Superstition

2009-03-13T06:56:00.001-07:00

Happy Friday 13th! Here's what Augustine has to say on superstition:

To these we may add thousands of the most frivolous practices, that are to be observed if any part of the body should jump, or if, when friends are walking arm-in-arm, a stone, or a dog, or a boy, should come between them. And the kicking of a stone, as if it were a divider of friends, does less harm than to cuff an innocent boy if he happens to run between men who are walking side by side. But it is delightful that the boys are sometimes avenged by the dogs; for frequently men are so superstitious as to venture upon striking a dog who has run between them,--not with impunity however, for instead of a superstitious remedy, the dog sometimes makes his assailant run in hot haste for a real surgeon. To this class, too, belong the following rules: To tread upon the threshold when you go out in front of the house; to go back to bed if any one should sneeze when you are putting on your slippers; to return home if you stumble when going to a place; when your clothes are eaten by mice, to be more frightened at the prospect of coming misfortune than grieved by your present loss. Whence that witty saying of Cato, who, when consulted by a man who told him that the mice had eaten his boots, replied, "That is not strange, but it would have been very strange indeed if the boots had eaten the mice." - De Doctrina, 2.20.31

I'd add more commentary, but somebody sneezed when I was putting on my slippers this morning. I'll let you know when I'm out of bed.

The Apocalyptic Tone

2009-02-28T04:56:00.000-08:00

Whilst writing up my PhD stops me from writing anything insightful here (no change there then!), the recent doom and gloom predictions regarding the economy which are floating around at the moment had me in mind of the following Derrida quote, taken from his article, "Of an Apocalyptic Tone recently adopted in Philosophy". It seems to encapsulate the current media fixation quite nicely:

"Haven’t all the differences taken the form of a going-one-better in eschatological eloquence, each newcomer, more lucid than the other, more vigilant and more prodigal too than the other, coming to add more to it: I tell you this in truth; this is not only the end of this here but also the first of that there, the end of history, the end of class struggle, the end of philosophy, the death of God…the end of man, the end of the West, the end of Oedipus, the end of the earth, Apocalypse now, I tell youn, in cataclysm, the fire, the blood, the fundamental earthquake, the napalm descending from the sky by helicopters, like prostitutes, the nuclear thunder and the great whoring… the end of the university, the end of phallocentrism and pallogocentrism, and I don’t know what else? And whoever would come to refine, to tell the extreme of the extreme, namely the end of the end… that person would, whether wanting to or not, participate in the concert”

Just when you thought you'd seen it all...

2009-02-24T09:23:00.001-08:00

For those who, like me, find pleasure in the absurd, Japan seems to be the gift that keeps on giving. Without any further ado I present the following piece of sushi art, the very ludicrousness of which brought a huge smile to my face:

George Herbert, "Denial"

2009-02-20T03:19:00.000-08:00

George Herbert is pretty much my favourite seventeenth-century poet. While I have a lot of time for Donne, and even more for Marvell (who, after all, references the "conversion of the Jews", slipping in some eschatology under the radar), neither of them approaches the broad devotion and frankness which I find in Herbert's work.

My current favourite is his "Denial", a meditation on those times when God's face is like flint and hidden from us. I love the comparison Herbert makes in the poem: both mind and verse are disconsolate until God's intervention in the final stanza. There's therefore a lovely rhyming scheme which is consistently frustrated up until the final couplet, when God "mends my rime". Partly, however, I find Herbert's poem describes exactly how I currently feel in my walk with God. I'm not sure whether this is as a result of over work, or a symptom of something more serious, with the following becoming something of a prayer for me. Hopefully the cloud will break in the desert soon. Anyway, on to Herbert:

When my devotions could not pierce
Thy silent ears;
Then was my heart broken, as was my verse:
My breast was full of fears
And disorder:

My bent thoughts, like a brittle bow,
Did fly asunder:
Each took his way; some would to pleasures go,
Some to the wars and thunder
Of alarms.

As good go any where, they say,
As to benumb
Both knees and heart, in crying night and day,
Come, come, my God, O come,
But no hearing.

O that thou shouldst give dust a tongue
To cry to thee,
And then not hear it crying! all day long
My heart was in my knee,
But no hearing.

Therefore my soul lay out of sight,
Untuned, unstrung:
My feeble spirit, unable to look right,
Like a nipped blossom, hung
Discontented.

O cheer and tune my heartless breast,
Defer no time;
That so thy favors granting my request,
They and my mind may chime,
And mend my rime.

Christian Buses: The death of constructive dialogue

2009-02-05T07:00:00.000-08:00

I quite like George Hargreaves. I once sat next to him at church, and discussed the finer points of song writing and tunings for acoustic guitars. Little did I realise that he had previously penned chart busting gay anthem “So Macho”, while I had only penned four chord comedy songs about chavs fighting on public transport. He gave me his card and a handshake, and I thought little more of it. This was, of course, before he burst into wider public consciousness in the wearying Channel Four concept show “Make Me a Christian”. The idea (and you can be forgiven for blotting this from your minds) was that a hardcore team of clergy would help unlikely converts (Lesbians! Bikers! Sexaholics!) live a life of faith for a month or so. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t really work – but then, as Calvin would have been the first to tell you, we can’t “make” anybody a Christian anyway.

The Rev. Hargreaves is back in the news today, as he leads the fight back against Richard Dawkins’ Atheist bus scheme. I’ve dealt with why this scheme was slightly ridiculous in a post last year (and Steve Holmes has done so much more thoroughly here), and I had hoped, truth be told, that the entire sorry saga would be forgotten about soon. Unfortunately, we (and by that, I mean Christians) have decided to respond in kind. As Mark Sweney details in today’s Guardian, Hargreaves is at the forefront of a number of new atheist baiting arguments. “There definitely is a God. So join the Christian Party and enjoy your life!” is his slogan of choice, and one which I fear will fall foul of Advertising Standards Agency rules. After all, the Atheists had to run with “There’s probably no God” due to the fact they couldn’t conclusively prove that God didn’t actually exist. I imagine the same rules apply to any claim that there definitely is a God. The Russian Orthodox Church’s slogan “There IS a God. BELIEVE. Don’t worry and enjoy your life” will probably fall into the same problem. Which leaves us with our old friends at the Trinitarian Bible Society. Obviously keen not to offend, they’ve decided to run with Psalm 53:1: “The fool hath said in his heart, there is no God”. The drawbacks to this approach are obvious. It is somewhat akin to the Humanist Society plastering Dawkin’s assertion that “Faith is one of the world's great evils, comparable to the smallpox virus” on the side of buses. The context of scripture, the fact that the word “fool” usually refers to moral failings, the principles of evangelism are forgotten, as the Society try to make their point with a pithy quote.

I believe that we risk destroying our credibility, as evangelicals, as a church (in a broad sense) by responding in kind to these attacks upon us. Dialogue is lost. Argument and intellectual vitality is undermined and subsumed in a mass of sound bites and proof texts. The academy, the debating hall, the reasoned argument is abandoned in favour of a slogan which captures the party line; the pithy phrase which ridicules the other side and returns us to our own camp with a self indulgent glow. A glance at the “comments” section on this story at the Guardian website reduces me to despair. There is no civility to the debate. No acceptance that, while we may approach the question from different intellectual horizons, that we might each bring something to the table. Christians are “lunatics” or “idiots”, while Atheists are “unfeeling” or “stupid”. This is no surprise, of course. The “comments” threads on news sites usually act like a black hole, sucking up any passing junk and preserving it, frozen for eternity, as a monument to ignorance and stupidity. But these comments are symptomatic of a debate conducted through Dawkin’s rhetoric. The idea that faith has ever contributed anything positive is immediately dismissed and discarded, theology (as a discipline) is discarded as worthless and outmoded. If Dawkins took time to engage with the numerous modes of discourse available in the theological tradition, then perhaps a constructive dialogue could be built.

But are we any better ourselves? As Evangelicals, do we take the high ground? The ridiculous polemic of Mark Driscoll and co. suggests to me that we don’t. “No compromise” is often recast “as no common sense” and dialogue gets lost in demonization of the other side. Maybe there will be a movement within the evangelical base which shifts away from this, and seeks constructive dialogue with other Christian traditions, and even with those we oppose. Sadly, though, I anticipate that many Evangelicals would see this as selling out, preferring to adopt a hardline us and them dichotomy and culture war approach. Maybe I’m wrong, but I fear that we will be doomed to trade insults across buses for all eternity.

New Michael Jensen blog

2009-02-03T11:25:00.000-08:00

Michael Jensen is always an insightful and entertaining read (see his post on Calvin's hermeneutics last week for evidence). His new blog, with the rather tongue-in-cheek title "Defence Against the Dark Arts", is now online at Sydney Anglicans. Focusing on the "busy intersection of Theology, Culture, Ethics and Politics", it should produce some interesting work over the coming months. I look forward to some good commentary on one of my favourite themes, from one of my favourite bloggers. Do check it out!

Chuck Norris on Rick Warren

2009-01-27T11:59:00.000-08:00

These must be the last days. What other explanation, I wonder, would lead me to write the following words? But write them I will: go here for Chuck Norris' thoughtful theologically based analysis of Rick Warren's inaugural prayer. It's hardly going to have Augustine sweating, but it's actually quite good.

If this trend continues, I wonder, could the Hauerwas/Norris bout we've been dreaming of become a reality? We can only hope...

Doom and Gloom

2009-01-21T08:58:00.001-08:00

My regular trips to pre-trib message boards have been somewhat curtailed due to work recently, but the inauguration yesterday meant that I had an excuse to check the reaction. The majority were level headed, prayerful, and a significant witness to the world. However, there was a definite air of doom and gloom across some sectors of the community. Whether Obama was bringing in Islamic terrorism, the end of support for Israel, communism or the "antichrist spirit" to the States, nothing could cheer the mood of some of the most Republican of posters.

Against that spirit, I thought I'd post a snippet of what I wrote on one board post-election, something which sums up my feelings about the American nation and her people:

Look, you are a great country. You've survived revolutions, assasinations, a civil war, two world wars, the cold war, the Jimmy Carter presidency, the Clinton years, 9-11... need I go on? You've faced the storm head on, and you've come out fighting. Sometimes you've emerged bloody and wounded, but you've always emerged. All the Americans I know are proud and patriotic. I envy that - in Britain, we're rather embarassed to show too much fervour in supporting our nation. But Americans - be they Democrats or Republicans - are fiercly patriotic. Do they disagree with their President sometimes? Sure - but they believe they stand for an ideal, that they stand for a flag, that they stand for a nation which embodies the best values of hope, freedom, and liberty. This is why I simply can't believe some of the posts I read here. Is this national spirit, this pride, this history going to be washed away in four years? No! Of course not! The doom mongering is ridiculous. Pray for Obama as President. Oppose him where he is wrong. Have grace to admit where he is right. Vote at the next election. But don't presume that your nation is doomed simply because of one man - this is exactly what the far-left were doing when Bush got elected!

Beyond the slightly cheap shots at Carter and Clinton, I stand by the sentiments of that post 100%. Whatever an Obama presidency brings, I know that America as a country and as an ideal will stand strong.

Finally, an apology lack of posting of late. I'm attempting to submit my thesis by April, as well as teach and working a part-time job. Posting will be much reduced until after Easter, but keep checking back!

Kaka and Desire

2009-01-15T09:24:00.000-08:00

It's interesting to see that Manchester City are apparently willing to pay Brazilian footballer Kaka £500,000 (around $728,500) per week to join them. There have been plenty of media attacks on the obscene amounts of money that the player would supposedly be earning, and such lavishness certainly seems to go against the grain of our recession crippled economy.

The reason this interests me is particularly because Kaka has always been very vocal about his faith, and a dedicated member of Italian Christian organisation "Christ's Athletes". I can only speculate on what his arrival in Manchester would mean for faith in the city - the chance to have a passionate Christian who is also a role model and open to questions of belief intrigues and excites me.

More broadly, it got me thinking a little on the mechanisms of desire. Desire seems to be at the root of a whole load of Christian movements at moment: from John Piper et al. to Radical Orthodoxy. Both, of course, talk about the fact that we sell our desire short; the fact that we satisfy ourselves out to lesser things than God. Daniel Bell talks about the ways in which our desire is captive to the market; enslaved to the power structures of the capitalist system and the State. I'm not sure Piper would put it quite like that, but Bell has a valid point. Certainly the media lead us on an experience-led, ultimately fruitless quest for desire in the things we purchase; until each experience leaves us unsatisfied and drives us back to the marketplace. Even Evangelicalism is guilty of this, particularly in experience led worship, and the proliferation of books offering instant cures to our woes of faith. Perhaps this is responsible for the quick turnover of worship songs we see nowadays - how many contemporary songs do we use in church which we also used two years ago? Or even six months ago? Experience and the "now" dominate. But I digress.

Why I write this in regards to Kaka is simply due to the immense amount of money being offered to him. As a Christian, I believe it places him in something of a moral quandary. If he accepts the money, how will it effect his witness? Will he become a target for accusations of hypocrisy, and love of money? Will it be possible to function as an equal within the redeemed community? I imagine there will be a conflict of desires here - the opportunity to glorify God in a new place, but at the same time, the danger of money becoming his overwhelming desire (or at least, it appearing that way). It's difficult to say what the "right" thing to do in this circumstance would be. Of course, if most of us were offered five times our weekly salary by another employer, I'm sure we'd bite their hand off. But the stakes in football are so much higher, and the money at such unreal levels, that it must remain a difficult decision.

Gaza, Christian Zionism and Polarisation

2009-01-05T09:57:00.000-08:00

I'm fully aware that both academic musing and eschatological speculation can occur in a bubble. Divorced from the real world we see what we want to see and play our own little academic games each trying to claim his or her piece of sovereign territory in the ivory towered worlds which we spend most our times within.

The Gaza conflict is of course, as far removed from this world as could be imagined. As such, it feels slightly vapid to be discussing issues of theology and philosophy when people on both sides are facing needless death. Nonetheless, reaidng some Christian Zionist responses I feel liked I've taken a dive into the Twilight Zone. I was left silently agog at David Reagen's attempt to answer the question currently on nobody's lips "if the current conflict in Gaza might lead to the Russian led invasion of Israel that is prophesied in Ezekiel 38 & 39"? As somebody sympathetic to the dispensational movement I often balk at the insensitivity of asking questions like this at a time when a humantarian disaster is occuring. The great big framework of God's timetable is no doubt exciting, but it should never be at the expense of losing sight of the human cost involved.

On a post on the same site, Terry James goes out of his way to criticise the world's attacks on Israel, without allowing for a single criticism of the nation. This is, once again, disconcerting, and out of sync with the prophetic voice that we as Christians (and, I hope, friends of Israel) are called to bring to her. Yet Terry makes a good point in his attack on the way that the media reports Israel's operations. I wonder how long our own government would do nothing in the face of continued attacks from an enemy nation bent on our total destruction (Northern Ireland, anyone?). The conflict, unsurprisingly, is being reported in typically one sided fashion by the BBC and majority of newspapers, who seem to be suggesting that Israel's prime aim is to kill and maim civilians. Hamas, presumably want nothing more than to manufacteur leg warmers for kittens. While I have my own doubts about the way the operation is being carried out, this view is at best naive and at worst propogandistic in nature.

On the other side, Stephen Sizer, as expected, is blogging extensively on the subject on his website. He reposts a review of his own Christian Zionism: Roadmap to Armageddon by Phil Groom originally printed in Evangelical Quarterly. Groom certainly wrestles with and poses the big questions for Christian Zionists to think about. "The tendency," he writes, "he tendency of many Christians to give uncritical support — or even open endorsement — to Israel’s apartheid and wholly disproportionate policies is an aberration that compounds that offence." The use of "apartheid" here is far too strong, and I have my own problems with the thesis advanced in Sizer's work (and particularly in his reading of eschatological history), but this doesn't mean that the challenges of his work shouldn't be faced and addressed by those of competing theological camps. However, I don't believe that either side is even attempting dialogue with the other. Thus Groom's assertion that those who support Israel will be subject to a great judgement, while Bible Prophecy Today begins a series looking at the "modern error" (?!?) of Replacement Theology.

My worry is that the polarization between the anti- and pro-Christian-Zionists is already resulting in an artifical polarization amongst Christians, meaning that a unified response to the crisis becomes impossible. I suppose this is where Millbank and the radical orthodoxy crowd's theories on the nature of the strength and historic impact (and authority?) of the church come into play, but once again the church finds herself unable to fulfil the prophetic role. One day, perhaps, Christians will be able to deliver a balanced response to the challenges of the Middle East, but that day has not yet come.

Christmas Eve in the Graveyard

2008-12-24T07:18:00.000-08:00

It’s not a long walk from where I park the car. Across the bare ground—icy or soggy dependent on how effective global warming has been that year—two rows from the left, about half down, I go from the battered Fiat to the graveside. Nothing really focuses your thoughts like a graveyard. For the rest of December you busy yourself with work, and play, and mulled wine and shopping and parties; you try not to think about the still and silent night that falls over the graves. All night. Every night.

On Christmas Eve, when I can avoid it no longer, I go there and stand silently for two or three minutes, wondering about the “whatifs” and the “maybes”, and imagining a world where I didn’t have to come here every Christmas. I stood here five years ago, the first Christmas after her death, slowly sucking on a cigarette and watching the smoke mingle with the icy vapour of my breath; watching them combine, dance off towards the heavens where the clouds threatened only rain rather than the seasonal snow. It didn’t ease the hurt. The pain has dulled over the years, but it’s always just a dulling, it never fades entirely. Christmas tends to pour a little salt on wounds and make them fresh once again, to reawaken old thoughts you didn’t think would resurface. Once again the date on the stone catches my eye—“1985-2002”. Surely that can’t be right? Like George Bailey, clearing the snow from his brother’s grave, I want to turn to someone and say “That’s wrong – it didn’t happen that way…”. But there’s no guardian angel here to pull the quantum leavers and push me back into a parallel world. And the old people and young people who wander past with stoic expressions; the advent calendars, flowers and stickers that adorn the other graves testify to the fact that there is an inevitability to this all. We can’t escape these things—they have happened. So I always turn and walk back to the car, to the carols, to the real world and tinsel and mistletoe and Noel Edmonds’ Christmas Presents.

But which one is the real Christmas? The joy, the smiles, the family and presents? Or the crisp, cold frost of the graveyard on Christmas Eve? What was it like in Bethlehem all those years ago? The clean cookie-cutter pop-up nativity? Or a real birth; blood and excrement, tears and pain and screaming? The danger of discovery by a tyrant willing to kill? The looming warning that amidst all this joy, a sword would pierce Mary’s own soul as well? The melancholy fact that the birth is the first act in a journey which leads a holy man to die a criminal’s death, nails smashed through bone, brow pierced through with thorns? The answer, of course, is both. Every time we celebrate Christ’s birth, we celebrate the fact that he sacrificed his life, his glory, the worship he was rightly entitled to in heaven, for us. The creator of the universe came to this world, this humiliating birth of blood, sweat and excrement in humble surroundings; this world he created that would reject him and ultimate aim to destroy him. That would leave him, dead, on the cross of a criminal. But in the pain, what joy! In the agony of the mother’s first birth, in the filth of humanity and animals, who can imagine the mother’s happiness? The angels singing songs of rejoicing to vagrant shepherds, hearing of a newborn saviour – what joy for them! And the life, the healings, the messages of peace and hope! Even the cross itself, the scene of his defeat—no! The scene of his victory, the scene of his greatest joy as death is defeated and he is raised triumphant! The child born in that stable is the one who “for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” (Hebrews 12:2).

Christmas for all its joy, highlights our situation. It highlights the fact that we need a saviour, the fact that our lives lack the joy we claim to enjoy for a “shining moment” around this time of the year. It reminds us that behind the tinsel faced façade of our lives, lies real pain and real hurt, lies the inevitability of death. It shows us that the only way to deal with these, to understand the issues which destroy us—the pain and the death, the hurt and sorrow—is to look to one who experienced all of these things and came out the other side. The one who would have us call him “friend”, “brother”, “King”, “Saviour” and “Lord”. The baby of Bethlehem, the crucified of Jerusalem—the risen Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ.

Does this destroy the pain of the graveyard? Does it wash away the sense of hurt, and explain the “why”? Of course not. The hurt is still hurt, and the questions still remain. But in all of this madness, and this confusion; in all of this hurt, and pain and boredom of every day life, the story of Christmas convinces me of one thing—God is still in control. He still has a plan. And he wants us to know it, and to know him, even in the confusion of our lives. The questions, and the pain remain; but the assurance that we have a God of love, and God who didn’t spare his own son for our sake, reassure me. Christmas reminds me that I have a saviour who held nothing back, but gave all he had so that I might have a relationship with him. The joy of Christmas is more than the fading “Christmas feeling” – it’s the knowledge that I have a relationship with God. I think and walk back to the car, back to the real world, to the tinsel and decorations, and the graveyard fades into the background once again.

This piece was originally written and posted on my Facebook profile on 24th Dec 2007. The photographs were taken on 24th Dec 2006. I'd like to wish all (both!?!) readers a very Merry Christmas and a wonderful holiday

Exciting Christmas Music Part Four: Over the Rhine

2008-12-23T13:15:00.000-08:00

When drawing up lists of criminally underrated bands, Cincinnati's Over the Rhine have to feature pretty highly on the list. Structured around husband and wife team Linford Detweiler and Karin Bergquist, their twenty years in the music industry has seen them experiment with rock, pop, folk and (most recently) jazz. Berquist's voice is a particularly suited to the jazzier arrangements, and its these which come to the fore in their wonderful 2007 Christmas album, Snow Angels.

A number of the cuts here deal with the challenge presented by the intersection of sacred and secular in the incarnation and Christmas itself. "Little Town" starts with the first verse of the carol, but begins to pose difficult questions relating to the world's continuing problems: "The wounds of generations, almost too deep to heal/ Scar the timeworn miracle, and make it seem surreal". "New Redemption Song" does exactly what it says on the tin ("Lord, we need a new redemption song/ Lord, we've tried, it just seems to come out wrong"). Meanwhile, "Here It Is" is an upbeat statement of hope - "Some call it obsession, I call it commitment" sings Berquist as the band roars around her on the rockiest of numbers. The song looks forward as well as back, to a time when "They blow Gabriel's horn...Rip fiction from fact" and a hope that the singer will get "Caught in some radical act/Of love and redemption".

Several songs here sound like lost Bing Crosby classics. Opener "All I Ever Get for Christmas is Blue" is a prime example - a sparse, sad piano arrangement, and pitch perfect lyrics about being alone over the festive season. "Snowed in with You" sounds like it's been ripped out the director's cut of White Christmas, with it's seductive chords and lyrics drenched in dreamy romanticism; while "North Pole Man" is pure blues, with lyrics somewhat suggestive (no, really) of the Song of Solomon. One of the highlights, however, remains the heartbroken title track. A war ballad about a lost love ("They brought my love home from the war\In a cart pulled by white mules\The Christmas bells rang out that day\Oblivious as fools") it expresses a sad final hope which will resonate with anybody who's lost love ones:

Snow angel, snow angel Someday I’m gonna fly
This cold and broken heart of mine
Will one day wave goodbye
Goodbye to this cruel wicked world
And all the tears I’ve cried
Snow angel, snow angel I’ll meet you in the sky

Download the first two songs from OtR's website, and theny buy the thing: http://www.overtherhine.com/music/recordings/cd15/cd15.html

Exciting Christmas Music Part Three: Bill Mallonee

2008-12-19T10:47:00.000-08:00

I've already written of my admiration for Bill Mallonee, lead singer of the now reformed (hooray!) Vigilantes of Love. A sometimes brutally honest combination of folk, rock, sixties pop and often Dylan-esque lyrics, Mallonee's music (and particularly his lyrics) have the potential to move and challenge in equal volumes. This makes his Christmas album, fan often surprisingly political festive treat ("Like congress, the President lies", and "amid the conflict and confusion, of winning and then losing, brother against terror for oil") which will, at the very least, get you thinking.

Released in 2005, Yonder Shines the Infant Light features seven new songs, and five collected from various Vigilantes EPs during the nineties. The album manages to surprise almost constantly. Opening "Knocking at your Door" is a gentle, worshipful folk song: "Amid the fears and frustrations, tumults and tribulations, of all of the whys and wherefores/ it'll all flee as the night vanishes with morning light/ and then He comes a-knocking at your door". This, you expect, should set the scene for an introspective folk album, especially with the next track entitled "Holy Mother Mary". Against all expectations, however, this opens into seven minute (too long!) piano-rock ballard supported by driving drums and full band, attacking small town and big nation political hypocricy. A version of "Come thou long expected Jesus" and another original (discussed in my previous post) are sandwiched between two beautiful instrumentals."Dayspring" is all chiming guitars, subtle piano and icy percussion: a glockenspiel brining a note of hope to a tune which seems stuck somewhere between there and despair. "Natvity", meanwhile, features sterling guitar work from Bill, as he picks a sparse tune which evokes both a baby's cry and falling snow. The pianowork here is evocative of Tori Amos, and is once again top notch.

The remaining original songs are equally as impressive. "Sing Angel Choirs" speaks of the frustration which dogs the Christian life: "Yeah i'm picking through pieces of yesterday's boasting, hold them up to the light and examine them closely/ My love is a field that the weeds have grown up in, my earth is all scorched with my wreckage and ruin". Similar themes run through (both versions!) of "On to Bethlehem": "You know how fickle my heart is, prone to wander my Lord/ Yeah we talk but it's at arms length always got one eye on the door/ God wraps Himself up in human skin, for those who want to touch/ And God let them drive the nails in for those of us who know way too much". This is without mentioning the best song on the album, "Every Father Knows", which I'll include the lyrics to, as any summary would do it injustice. Lyrically, it is probably my favourite Christmas song of all time:

Well the angels sang the sweetest song echoing refrains
The shepherds were up to something maybe drunk again
No there probably wasn't any snow on the ground at the time
Though the greeting cards show that sort of thing with a warm and fuzzy rhyme
And the stable is neat and tidy the hygiene is five stars
And the planet it spins lonely as i step out of this bar

Now some are lost in shopping malls and some on battlefields
And some are lost in suburbs and some on capitol hills
Some are lost on terminal wards or in a nursing home
And some are equally as lost in between their headphones
But whatever your coordinates on your map of shame
Whether close or far away we're all lost just the same

The birth of births was like a death Under that hallowed star
Still every father know and cares Where his sons and daughters are

So you may wake up a bit confused with the ache that's in your heart
Doesn't matter if you got there by choice or got there by default
And every birth shall come with tears and with youth there is a cost
Jesus what's it like to grow up in the shadow of a cross?
Where You take on more than You could know more than I'd want to say
I put you there a long time ago when i do it every day

I don't think this is anywhere near Mallonee's best album (see "To the Roof of the Sky", "Audible Sigh", and "Permafrost"), but his lyricism remains top notch. Even his over indlugence on "Holy Mother Mary" has to be forgiven when he admits: "I know this thing is as long as shit, and by now you're ready to hit skip, But I didn't do it for you no I did it for me". As long as you keep letting us hear the finished results, Bill, I'm more than happy to indulge you.

UPDATED: You can listen to a new Christmas song from Mallonee at his MySpace page (www.myspace.com/billmallonee) or download the above album at www.volsounds.com .

Exciting Christmas Music Part Two: Sufjan Stevens

2008-12-18T16:17:00.000-08:00

“Sufjan Stevens, he’s not really that… Christian, is he?” So began a conversation on the merits of Stevens’ particular (peculiar?) brand of music at a Christmas party last week. Of course, there are two types of Christian music: the obvious, in your face “Jesus fest” referred to in my previous post, and that music which deals with the complexities of the Christian life through a number of themes. I believe there is a place for both, but Sufjan Stevens’ Songs for Christmas is definitely in the second category.

An incredibly generous package, this box set features five EPs recorded over a five year period from 2001 onward. And essays, stickers and chord charts. Did I mention the short story about Santa and the nuclear missile over North Korea? No? Well, that’s there as well. But the star (as always) is the music. Christmas music, writes Stevens, “intersects a supernatural phenomenon (the incarnation of God) with the sentimental mush of our mortal lives”. It’s hard to disagree, and his lyrics seek to exploit the inherent contradiction in the spiritual\secular divide to drive home something of the wonder and miracle of Christmas.

Thus the beautiful and haunting “That Was The Worst Christmas Ever!” with its descriptions of frustrated family celebrations (“My sister runs away, taking her books to the schoolyard”) played to gentle banjo accompaniment with the promise that “In time the Lord will rise”. Similarly peaceful is “Only at Christmas Time” which combines near-millennial longing (“It takes the end of time”) with the promise that only the “King of Kings” brings “us peace… brings us joy…brings all thoughts to destroy”. The eccentric refrain of “Put the Lights on the Tree” greets the worries of a concerned aged relative with a confident pronouncement: “Tell her Jesus Christ is here… Tell her there is none to fear”. This is without even talking about some of the other original gems: “Sister Winter” builds to such a joyous and hopeful crescendo that the CD threatens to explode under its weight, whilst the crazy three way pro/anti conversation of “Get Behind Me, Santa!” features the best Father Christmas related lyric ever penned (“I don’t care about what you say Santa Claus/You’re a bad brother breaking into people’s garages!”).

And then, of course, are the traditional carols. Stevens admits to revelling in the melancholy of the season, and his versions of “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” and “O Holy Night” bring this aspect to the fore with their sparse arrangements and heartfelt vocal style. It’s amazing the way that Stevens can turn a conventional carol on its head. “Joy to the World” is turned into a beautiful, echoing duet building, while “Holy, Holy, Holy” benefits most from its new arrangement in its sweet hearted, almost broken hearted final affirmation of God’s Trinitarian nature. “The Friendly Beasts”, a traditional 12th century French carol, remains a sweet-hearted and gentle worship song to Christ, and one of the most pleasant surprises on the record. All the carols here give the feeling of an intimate, gentle, winter worship session. You can imagine Stevens and co gathering in a snowy glade or log cabin, drinking hot mulled wine and singing to the Lord. It’s a gathering that’s well worth joining yourself.

Exciting Christmas Music Part One : The Problem with Christian Music

2008-12-15T11:47:00.000-08:00

I'm probably not the right person to advise on Christmas music. After all, I'm a man who once recorded an “electro-folk accoustic” version of the Cheeky Girls' classic “Cheeky Christmastime”, arguing that it was “ironic”. When actually, it was just “sad” (and dreadful! Though the MP3 is still extant...)

But Christmas music, I find, is often the musical equivalent of a McDonalds meal. Sure, it's easy on the ears, but you know exactly what you're going to get, and it's certainly not going to challenge you in any way shape or form. This, of course, plugs into a wider problem within Christian music as a whole – so often it's by the numbers, formulaic tat, thrown at the church with some ridiculous comparison to make it sell. “Fans of Coldplay, Oasis and guitar rock will enjoy this effort!” screams the Wesley Owen catalogue, when what it really means is “Yes, it still sounds like the back end of Radio 2's 2004 play list. But with Jesus.” Metaphor, struggle, and lyrical depth is jettisoned in favour of glib platitudes which often fail to plug into the reality of daily Christian experience. This isn't to say that there isn't some good stuff out there, though. I take my hat off to Martin Smith's recent “Compasionart” project, for example, which seeks to do something revolutionary with mainstream worship. On the whole though, I think CCM artists expect to sell out of loyalty. Shouldn't believers support other believers working in the arts? The answer, of course, is yes and no. We should be encouraging other believers in the arts. That much is a given. But to what purpose? Can we really believe a band takes evangelism seriously when they throw out the same mass-produced four chord melodies and plodding lyrics every couple of years? Perhaps I'm cynical, but I struggle to believe that anybody will be moved by a song which makes James Blunt sound like a cutting edge soundsmith.

So, over the next few days I'm skimming the (dark?) underbelly of Christmas music to discuss three Christian Christmas records which are (A) Artistically worthwhile and (B) Thoughtful meditations on the Christmas theme. You might have come across the artists before, but if not, I hope to be able to encourage you to check out some interesting faith-based music. And, I can guarantee, it's a lot better than the Cheeky Girls.

Christmas Meditations

2008-12-11T04:39:00.000-08:00

A couple of years ago I tried an experiment - an "Advent Calendar" style blog, featuring a short festive meditation each day, and a pretty picture.

Well, it's still there (though some of the pictures have been replaced by "Remote linking not permitted" banners. Whoops!) Since I'm all out of profound (or stupid - it depends on your POV) things to say at the moment I thought I'd repost the link to each week's run of meditations in the lead up to Christmas. For those looking for quotes from Barth, Millbank, Hauerwas and co., I apologise, as these are little homilies more than deep theological reflections on the nature of the incarnation and the self. If I feel any are particularly worth repeating, then I'll post them here as well in full.

Feel free to drop by: http://adventcalender06.blogspot.com/2006_12_10_archive.html

In the next few days or so I'll have a series of posts looking at three worthwhile Christian Christmas albums - which work as art and affirmations of faith. So stay tuned.

[Note: Yes, I know the link spells "calendar" wrongly, but the correct spelling was already taken. That's my story anyway...]

A Rant on Sexual Politics

2008-12-05T09:49:00.000-08:00

To quote Alan Partridge, I try to avoid “the whole gay minefield” on this blog, precisely because I’m quite torn over the whole issue. On the one hand, I believe that the Bible’s prohibition on homosexual relationships is clear cut. There is no debating that, for me. On the other hand, I can’t help but cringe when I see how evangelicalism often deals with the issue – usually with all the subtlety and grace of a large rugby player trying to crack open a soft boiled egg with a mallet. I also have both homosexual and very hard-line friends, so saying anything without offending either group is a bit difficult. So I apologise in advance for the following, which will no doubt offend both.

Two (actually no, three) things struck me this week on the issue. One is the story that Advertising Standards Agency has banned an advert put out by a Belfast Presbyterian Church . Declaring that “Sodomy is an abomination”, the church’s Pastor couldn’t seem to believe that anyone would find such a pronouncement distasteful, or even slightly beyond the pale. When Christians run things like this, I usually wonder what we actually hope to achieve. Perhaps the church believed that the gay community in Belfast would see the advert and collectively repent: “Oh, you say’s it’s a sin? Really, we hadn’t realised that before…” Now, I don’t advocate abandoning the Biblical position on homosexuality, but I do think we need to use some sensitivity in this area. Branding gay people as “Sodomites” is inflammatory language, whichever way you look at it – making use of it serves only to polarise gay people and turn them away from the church. Really, is there anybody out there who doesn’t know that evangelical Christians (as a whole) think that homosexuality is a sin? Do we need to be plastering it on billboards and in local newspapers? How about we tackle some of the other sins like greed, pride, hypocrisy that go on (dare I say it?) within the Church? Why do we put such a disproportionate focus on homosexuality, and then get surprised when people think that evangelicals are more focused on politics than Christ? Of course, we need to be upfront about what we believe and call ‘sin’ as ‘sin’. But we need to be sensible about it, and show sensitivity. Christians who struggle with sexuality issues know full well that those who suggest that these issues are there by choice are laughably misinformed. One glance at those who’ve committed suicide because they can’t change their sexual orientation, or those who’ve been driven from the faith because they’ve been told that they’re “worse sinners” than the rest of the church should change their minds pretty quickly. Reading back over this paragraph, it looks like I’m calling for the Church to openly support a gay lifestyle. I’m not – I believe that homosexual relationships are not God’s will, and that change is possible. I simply rally against those who suggest it’s easy, that it’s certain that those who come to Christ will instantly be “cured” of their sexuality; who link homosexuality to paedophilia; who say that stopping being gay is a simple, automatic thing. It’s not and it never will be; and I look back at gay friends who have abandoned the walk altogether as evidence of that.

On the other side, the furore over Prop 8: The Musical, which features Jack Black as Jesus and several West Wing alumni as evil Christians, seems to show that the “liberal” side of the debate is often about as nuanced as hardline Evangelicalism. I’ve not watched the video (no blasphemy today, thank you), but have read the transcript. And really – bringing out the shellfish and slavery line from Leviticus again? How long has that one been going round? I’d have hoped most intelligent people would at least try to use some theological nuance in their arguments, recognising the differences between the role of the law for national OT Israel, and the believer today. But, unsurprisingly, people will have their straw man. Of course, it would be far easier if the Bible were rewritten to remove all the references to homosexuality as a sin. And as if by magic, we have “The Princess Diana Bible”, a text which subtly undermines traditional expectations by rewriting scripture to make heterosexuality a sin! Perhaps someone should tell film maker Max Mitchell that we’ve had Queer commentaries on scripture for the past decade or so. But, I hear you ask, are any as SHOCKING and PROVOCATIVE as his re-reading of Genesis 6: “And of every living thing of all flesh, two of every sort shalt thou bring into the ark, to keep them alive with thee; they shall be male with male and female with female.”? The answer, of course, is no – the Queer commentaries (though I disagree strongly with them) are actually interesting and well researched. Mitchell’s method is simply to change every “wife” to “husband” and “he” to “she” (hang on, isn't that the TNIV?) and so on throughout scripture, leading to a text which is exactly the same as the King James Bible, only stupid and confusing. Once we’ve got over the shock value of Adam and Eve becoming Aida and Eve, we’re left with something which has absolutely nothing to say. Of course, this suggests that all of this is a desperate publicity stunt for a low budget movie – Mitchell’s Horror in the Wind, in which the whole world swaps sexual orientation. The movie features, according to the blurb on IMDB, sex crazed Gay men and power tool loving Lesbians, showing that Mitchell at least wants to strike a blow at stereotypical portrayals of gay life. It also features a car explosion, and was made for the grant total of $53,000. It's bound to be great.

All of this makes me wonder whether anybody has a commonsense, level headed approach to the issues at hand, or whether we’re all happy to fire off stereotypes and construct straw men until the cows come home. Until we actually start dialoguing and understanding each others positions, then there’s no way anything constructive can result. To be honest though, I’m nowhere near optimistic that this will ever happen. My apologies to anybody I offended with this post, feel free to ask for clarification on anything.

Renaissance Studies Book Review

2008-12-01T08:12:00.000-08:00

A quick note that Renaissance Studies recently published my review of Bedford, Davis and Kelly's Early Modern English Lives: Autobiography and Self-Representation 1500–1660. It's an interesting book and well worth a peek if you're into the subject. If you're lucky enough to have access, you can read the content online at their website. If you don't you can always do things the old fashioned way with the physical copy!

Doctor Who: Faith and Motives (Part Two)

2008-11-28T07:53:00.000-08:00

Today I'd like to sum up some thoughts on Christianity and the world of Doctor Who, and meditate a bit on what this says about me. In my last post I talked about how an interview with Who writer Rob Shearman made me look at my own motivation for preaching. What I'd like to do here is conclude that thought. I'm aware, of course of the randomness of all of this.

So, religion in Doctor Who. I'm going to limit myself to a few example. The first season concludes with an insane Dalek emperor convinced that he is God. The Daleks serving him are all converted from human beings: “The bodies were filleted, pulped, sifted. The seed of the Human race is perverted… Everything human has been purged… I reached into the dirt and gave new life, I am the God of all Daleks!” The play on Biblical language is fairly apparent, as is the Doctor’s conclusion when he tells the Daleks that they are “Driven mad by your own flesh...the stink of humanity”. It isn’t hard to detect the parodying of traditional Calvinist themes running throughout the dialogue here, themes which are particularly unsurprising given writer Russell T. Davies’ background.

What I find fascinating is the way that clearly Christian ideas have begun to replay frequently in Davies’ writing over the past few years. Though he denies any allegorical significance to the story, season three’s Gridlock is an episode with surprisingly overt Christian messages (witness its nomination for an “Epiphany Award” in the USA). The story goes something like this – the Doctor and his companion visit a formerly paradisiacal city, only to find a decaying, drug addicted society. The inhabitants of the city spend their time trapped on an endless journey around the planet’s motorway, searching for a way to reach a promised land. The way, however, is barred by an impassable barrier above, and demonic creatures below. As the story progresses, we learn that their hope is nothing more than an illusion – there is (quite literally) no way out of the eternal highway. At the end of the episode we find out why the people were trapped – the city’s ancient ruler has been keeping the people away from a terrible plague that decimated the upper world. The plague vanquished, however, the ruler gives his own life to open up a way for the people to escape their desperate lives. Through his death, they are freed – and the episode closes to the strains of “Abide with me”.

Several other interesting parallels surfaced in series three. One example will suffice – the astounding climax to the season in which the world is actually saved through faith in the Doctor’s name (“Faith and hope?!?...Is that your weapon? Prayer?!?” asks the Master at one point). Of course, I’m not suggesting that Davies is secretly forwarding Christianity through the programme. However, I do think there are themes which are helpful for us as Christians, and can be used to bridge cultural gaps. I talked about sermon illustrations in the past, but I also think that the stories themselves can be helpful to us as Christians, thinking through issues in our own lives. I return, then, to the question of my own motivation. Why do I do what I do? And for whom?

Perhaps a speech near the end of the episode of Season 3's finale can be applied to my dilemma of preaching with the right motives. In this episode the Doctor’s companion, Martha, travels the world telling the Doctor’s story. She sums up her mission beautifully: “But if Martha Jones became a legend then that's wrong, because my name isn't important. There's someone else. The man who sent me out there, the man who told me to walk the Earth….He has saved your lives so many times and you never even knew he was there. He never stops. He never stays… But I've seen him, I know him... I love him... And I know what he can do.”

Doctor Who: Faith and Motives (Part One)

2008-11-26T10:38:00.000-08:00

Hooray for my favourite television programme, which celebrated its’ forty fifth anniversary last Sunday. I’m talking, of course about Doctor Who – but then I can talk a lot about Doctor Who and what it meant to me growing up. I first picked up John Peel’s novelisation of 1965 story “The Chase” shortly after my eighth birthday in 1991. The story made such a deep impression on me that I remember being hugely disappointed when I actually saw the episodes some years later (it’s by far the worst Dalek story of the sixties period, though it does feature a Beatles cameo to make up for it!) I remember trawling charity shops a few days later, and chancing upon a copy of Target’s 1976 “Doctor Who Guide” signed by Tom Baker. This, if nothing else, guaranteed my obsession with the show – an obsession which (sadly) has only been rekindled by the 2005 revival.

One of the fascinating things about the new show is the ways in which it plays with religious themes. Doing a random Google, I was intrigued to find an interview with Rob Shearman, who wrote first season episode Dalek. I’ve long been interested by some of the Calvinist themes running through that particular episode – the Dalek is, after all, a creator incapable of emotion, literally "dead" in it's own sin. Only when an outside influence is applied can it begin to truly comprehend itself, and the creation around it. In the episode, of course, this realisation leads the creature to suicide – seeing what itself for what it really is, it descends into self hatred, preferring the blindness and single-mindness it had before its spiritual awakening. The irony here, and in so much of Shearman’s work, is that the Dalek comes to possess the self awareness lacking in the human characters. The billionaire collector who keeps it chained and tortured does what he does for his own entertainment, yet views himself as a philanthropist. The English “genius” (Bruno Langley, if only you could act!) working for him is motivated by the desire to glorify himself, even though he views himself as a fundamentally good person. “A Dalek is honest. It does what it was born to do for the survival of its species,” the Doctor tells the billionaire, “That creature in that dungeon is better than you!” The theme of man’s sinfulness and blindness to the true nature of the self had always struck me, and I’ve used it in previous sermon illustrations. I was interested to read that Shearman himself used to be a Christian, and actually preached on a number of occasions. Shearman mentioned that he struggled with his motives, though: “I was doing it for my own self-aggrandizement - I loved the idea of standing on street corners pretending that I understood what God wanted.” I’m preaching this weekend, and to be honest I’ve been thinking a bit about my own motives as well. How much of what I do is from a desire to see God glorified, and how much from a desire to see my own name made great? When I'm leaving, will I be more satisfied to hear "Good sermon" or that God was glorified - even if that means people are initially resiliant to the message? I find Shearman’s perspective is interesting, and his focus on characters obsessed with themselves seems to suggest to me that this is still a subject he’s very interested in. The question is, of course, how far we can ever ascertain our own real motives in anything. Perhaps there are some more insights the good Doctor can give us on this subject...

Faith, Music and Bill Mallonee

2008-11-22T12:53:00.000-08:00

I'm going to come out and say it - in general, I'm not a fan of "Christian" music. I mean, of course, "contemporary" Christian music (CCM), which all too often means something which sounds a bit like a Coldplay B-Side and mentions Jesus two or three times. This is the kind of music which thrives on being "safe" (as Christian radio likes to style itself, whatever it really means!) It therefore avoids anything which might be out of the ordinary musically, and sticks to a winning formula (I remember a trip with a friend from Tulsa to Dallas in which we listened to three different bands, and I didn't realise the CD had changed!) It's the kind of music which likes to say exactly what it means, with no danger of poetic interpretation. But, to paraphrase record producer T-Bone Burnett, a song should be art, not an instruction manual. Or to put it another way:

Got a stack of records, more like a Sunday School
And a summer of love that is only for fools
But fools we are, and fools we'll be,
Till sweet hallelujahs reign down on me

That quote comes from a tune by a singer-songwriter called Bill Mallonee. You might never have heard of Bill, but he has an enviable pedigree - named the 65th greatest living song writer by the hipsters at Paste magazine (ahead of Pink Floyd and Fleetwood Mac), and producing a number of critically acclaimed albums both solo and with his prolific band "Vigilantes of Love". So why is scraping out a living touring two-bit coffee house and run down bars, surviving at the poverty line? Why was he never embraced by the world of Christian rock? The answers to all these questions can be found a fascinating interview with Christianity Today, in which he talks about failure, depression, music and faith. To whet your appetite:

"Failure haunts Mallonee's songwriting, especially on the solo disc Locket Full of Moonlight ("What is the illusion and what can you lean on? / There's a sword called 'coming up empty' that I have fallen upon"). As he wryly remarks, you "can't sell that to youth-group kids."... Deeply conscious of his own mistakes, Mallonee talks about "grace" without any whiff of the academy about the word. But the friends and fans who have walked away in the last few years still sadden him. "Those songs [they loved] are about inconsistent human beings—fragile, fractured, frail from top to bottom," he says. That anyone should be surprised when they see that frailty lived out in real life baffles him..."

After you've read the interview, feel free to visit Bill's MySpace, or better yet his music store, where you can download Vigilantes of Love's 1994 album "Blister Soul" gratis. If you're in the market for more I'd recommend the stonking "Audible Sigh" or more recent "Permafrost". For me, Mallonee (alongside bands like Over the Rhine, Innocence Mission and Starflyer 59) is one of the few Artists that is both Christian AND producing credible art. Feel free to point me towards any others...

Coffee, coffee, coffee...

2008-11-21T03:10:00.000-08:00

Sometimes you're lucky. There you are, searching the labyrinthine bowels of online archives for that tiniest scrap of obscure seventeenth century information , and you stumble across a pamphlet which manages to succiently express the most deeply held beliefs and worldviews that make you who you are. You can only imagine my joy, then, when I discovered N.D.'s The Vertues of Coffee. Having been in a permanently caffinated state for the past three months, I was in need of immediate reassurance that I wasn't somehow pickling my stomach through an over indulgence in the black stuff.

N.D. had the same problem. While he liked coffee, he could never find out if it was good for him or not. Even "discourse with the sellers thereof" failed to provide any answer to his question (this might surprise you, but try asking next time you're in Starbucks and see what happens). N.D.'s solution was classic reformation thinking - ad fontes! And to some of the choisest English sources he goes, pulling out some lovely nuggets of coffee related goodness. Despite Sir George Sand's decription of coffee as "black it is as soot, tasting not much unlike it" most of the comment is postive. Thus Mr Parkinson, who less than delicately recommends it for women at a certain time of the month (I refrain from repeating his phraseology). Several authors recommend coffee for the brain, the stomach, and those troublesome "hypocondricall winds" (which, let's face it, are never much fun). Henry Blount clearly has it right when he notes that "it is good all hours of the day, but especially Morning and Evening... and is a harmless entertainment of good fellowship". I'm especially partial to a cup in the afternoon as well. The final word, though should go to Welsh traveller and historian James Howell, who notes that while in the past workers used to grow drunk on ale in the morning, “they now use to play the goodfellows in this Wakeful and civill drink”. I can only agree with his assessment that the “worthy Gentleman, Sir James Muddiford who introduced the practice hereof first to London deserves much respect of the whole nation”. Let's raise a cup to him!

Eschatology in the Mainstream Media

2008-11-17T09:19:00.000-08:00

There is nobody I respect more in the world of dispensational eschatology than Rapture Ready founder Todd Strandberg (pictured left in 2007). Part of this is his easy going humour and self-depreciating style - he always has a good handle on how nuts some people can get about this subject, and never takes himself too seriously. He is, for example, the only person I've ever known to bring a large bag of comedy hats to a rather up-tight Bible Prophecy Conference. On a more personal note, Todd has (both directly and indirectly) been one of the greatest Christian examples in my life. I became a Christian through Rapture Ready, and the website will always hold a special place in my heart because of that fact. I'll also never forget the love and true fellowship that Todd and all the Rapture Ready crew showed me when my sister unexpectedly died whilst I was in the States in 2002. I have never known a more loving Christian atmosphere than I found at that (and later) conferences with the Rapture Ready guys.

With this background, you'll understand why I'm delighted when the mainstream media picks up Strandberg's voice. He has already been featured in several articles and documentaries (including Time magazine, and a Channel 4 documentary in which I can be spotted lurking ominiously in the background of several shots), and with recent interest in Obama's role as "Antichrist", has found himself in demand once again. I think both he, and the articles, are worth sharing - so here we are.

First off Newsweek, who ask "Is Obama the Antichrist?" As with so much that is written on this subject, they manage to show a wonderful lack of awareness of exactly what they're talking about, and end up in a big terminological hole. The "end of history" is NOT the same thing as the time that Christ will reign in the millennium, as simple logic dictates. The millennium isn't the end of history - it's the consummation of history - as it continues for 1000 years in a distinctly earthly setting. History continues in time, a point which NW should really have picked up on. What concerns me more is the mention of "white evangelicals" expecting the End. This rather hints that the author of this piece sees racism as a driving factor behind the"Obama\Antichrist" movement. What the article doesn't tell us, of course, is that while 33% of White Evangelicals believe Christ will return in their lifetime, so do 34% of Black Evangelicals, as the same survey revealed. Of course, it's more interesting to push this phenomenon down a racial path, than simply to highlight it as a trend amongst Evangelicals in general. To examine it in more depth would mean actually thinking through the issues, rather than simply pointing the finger and shaking the head.

Onwards, then, to the Minnesota Independent, who take a rather different tact. Todd's Rapture Index (an eschatological Dow Jones, if you like) was largely uneffected by Obama's landslide, they note. Proof, if it were needed, that the new President may not be quite as evil as everybody suspects. My own suspicion is that the Independent was trying desperately to fill column inches. But then I'm just cynical that way.

Finally, the Salt Lake Tribune, which features the best and most in-depth interview with Todd on the Net at the moment. It's well worth a read, even though it commits the unforgiveable sin - referring to the "Bible's Book of Revelations". I propose that in future every journalist who mistakenly adds an "s" to "Revelation" be forced to read the entire Left Behind series as penance. Including the prequels, and the final sequel set during the millennium. And watch all the movies. Twice. Introduce this deterrent, and I guarentee that we would never read about the "Book of Revelations" again...