Ranting to /dev/null

Body Piercing Saved My Life

Cliche as that may sound, it's the title of a book of my brother's I found around the house: Body Piercing Saved My Life: Inside the Phenomenon of Christian Rock. It's an outsider's look at what has been one of the most bizarre and conflicted cultural developments of the last 40 years, and it's really worth a read. The author winds up talking about some pretty great artists--Sufjan Stevens comes to mind, and one of the people he interviews plugs Funeral--as well as a surprisingly in-depth discussion of the history and theology of American evangelicalism.

I find it rather telling--and somewhat unsurprising--that the thing that seems to have thrown him for a loop is a conference at Calvin featuring Reformed perspectives on culture:

"I noticed a prevailing skepticism among the Calvin students regarding the convergence of conservative Christianity and politics in the U.S. Already this wasn't what I'd been expecting. I hadn't heard a single word about Terri Schiavo, the pope [both of whom died that week], or even The Da Vinci Code [also in the news at the time]. I'd come completely unprepared.

"We broke for workshops, and I decided to attend Ken Heffner's called "Holy Worldliness--Culture and the Problem of Evil," figuring that I'd easily get some fire and brimstone there. Again, I was unprepared. Hefner called the concept of holy worldliness "a small, elegant oxymoron" and then began to argue persuasively for his reading of Jesus' instructions for the delicate dance of being in the world but not of it."

It was clear that the Reformed tradition, which I knew he was dealing with even if the author didn't, has a perspective on these things that he totally hadn't expected.

The lecture also included a critique of a very popular CCM hit at the time, criticizing it for being unimaginative and bland. Which is a valid critique of most "Christian" music, if you ask me.

But I think the part I enjoyed the most was the author's account of attending a worship service at the Gospel Music Week in Nashville (probably in 2005):

"Quentin Crisp once said, 'A lifetime of listening to disco music is a high price to pay for one's sexual preference' I'm not saved and don't think I ever will be, but if such a miracle were to take place, I can't imagine anything worse than being forced to pay for my salvation by listening to worship music for the rest of my days.

"Worship music is the logical conclusion of Christian adult contemporary music--not just unappealing but unbearable to anyone not already in the fold [and, I would add, some already in it]. Every song follows the same parameters. It opens gently, with tinkling arpeggios or synthesized harp glissandos that portend the imminence of something celestial in glacial 4/4 time. In the second verse, the band--invariably excellent players [oh, would that it were so!]--soft-pedals in, gaining in volume to the bridge. And then the chorus. Heavens, the choruses. They could put U2 out of business for good, they're so huge. Another verse. A middle eight. Then, a breakdown when the audience takes over singing. Another massive chorus. Fin.

"This isn't music to appreciate; it's music to experience. People at a worship service close their eyes and, as ecstasy spreads across their faces, begin to rock rhythmically, arms out, mouthing the lyrics. It's more than a little sexual and a tad uncomfortable if you're sitting next to an attractive person who's been overcome by the Spirit.

"Worship tunes tend to evince an adolescent theology [see, if even outsiders get it, why can't the church?], one that just can't get over how darn cool it is that Jesus sacrificed himself for the world. "Our God is an awesome God." "O Lord, you are glorious." "How can it be/That you, a king, should die for me? [Hey, some Wesley? Dumbed down though." Moreover, it's self-centered in a way that reflects evangelicalism's near-obsession with having a personal relationship with Christ. It's me Jesus died for. I just gotta praise the Lord.

"Not for nothing is "Amazing Grace," which marvels at the author's salvation, one of the few traditional hymns to be regularly included in modern worship services. Absent is any hint of community found in hymns such as "The Church Is One Foundation"--the Jesus of worship music is a mentor, a buddy, a friend whose message is easily distilled to a simple command: praise me. Not "feed the poor, clothe the naked, visit the prisoner." Simply thank Him for His gift to you (and make sure to display copyright information at the bottom of the screen so royalties can be disbursed).

"All of which I could bear, or at least imagine defending, if all the songs didn't sound the same. Now, I don't want to be a total bully here. Obviously, worship music means a lot to many people, and there are worship songs that stand up on their own, as music--I left Nashville humming one called "Blessed Be Your Name" for weeks [it is rather catchy]--but they're in the minority. As is any hint of evangelizing--this is music by the saved only, for the saved only, an art form where the images projected on giant screens are more fruitful sources of meditation and reflection than the lyrics superimposed on them."

I couldn't agree more. Some of the people that do the music for church services are obviously up there because they asked to be. No one in their right mind with any hint of aesthetic sensibility would have asked them on their own initiative. Most of them are really nice whom I like him personally. But they can't sing, I play the piano better than they do (which is saying something), and they wouldn't know a proper hymn if you smacked them across the forehead with the complete works of Isaac Watts.

So yeah, read the book. Fascinating.

Posted by ryan at May 27, 2007 10:50 PM | TrackBack