JESUS
ROCKS! OR DOES
HE?
Long ago I relinquished any
youthful claims to rapier wit, unique insight, mental
gigantism, and a millennial reputation for intellectual
excellence. All that I gave up, recognising that my only
gift is the Gift of Stating the Obvious. Whoa,
now! Before you sneer at such a mean gift, before you
preen yourself on your superior endowments, I would point out
to you that I have discovered, glancing over Christian “book”
catalogues and an article in Newsweek about the rise of
Christian popular music, that it appears I am the only man
left in all Christendom who has that gift. All the rest,
all the vast multitude, have been struck dumb before
Stupidity. Now
before I write this, I will have you note that I am laying
aside the Sword of Sarcasm. I am throttling back my only
other gift, the Gift of Snide Remarks. Intentionally,
with compassion aforethought, I am dulling the Knife of Sharp
Sayings and damping down the Steam of Boiling Invective.
I am doing all this not because I am natively more generous,
more compassionate, or more understanding than most men, but
only because the objects are so cosmically ridiculous on their
own and out of their own mouths reveal themselves so
completely impoverished, that these gifts and weapons are not
needed. I disdain the cheap shot. Besides, how
could art improve upon nature? I only need State the
Obvious, and I will strive to display the first and greatest
evangelical virtue, Being Nice. Along the way, however,
I will pass a few discrete comments about the lowest cultural
nadir of Christendom since Attila the Hun took up
watercolours.
LOTS OF
MILK NOT MUCH
MEAT
This meditation began not long
ago when I picked up the catalogue of Christian Book
Discounters. This is a noble effort I will not deride,
to provide Christian literature inexpensively to the
masses. However, I could not help but feel a faint and
passing twinge of despair as I thumbed through the
offerings. Yes, buried in the back I found a few old
trifles like Spurgeon, Calvin, and Henry. But they
seemed woefully out of place amongst the myriad intellectual
gee-gaws and pap. Christian literature, it seems, has
been taken over by the theological equivalent of
Wal-Mart. Then the
July 16, 2001 issue of Newsweek arrived. There on the
cover was a splendidly multi-cultural cultural group of
over-amped teenagers growling, dripping adrenaline, rolling
all over each other, and making hand signs ranging from the
Ba’al horns to Clintonesque thumbs up to V for – what?
“Jesus Rocks!” screamed the headline, “Christian entertainment
makes a joyful noise.” Noise. Well, I couldn’t
have said it better if I had tried. Now I ought to know better than to
attempt any musical criticism. From my perspective,
music has been on a downhill slope since Bach died, with only
brief respite from Beethoven and Mozart. But one
suspects that if one mentioned “Mozart” to this crowd they
would assume one meant the comic genius of the Three
Stooges. With trembling
fingers I turned to the page with the cover article. It
was a two page spread of a crowd with closed eyes and
expressions ranging from peace to painful indigestion.
One appeared to be hailing an unseen taxi. The caption
informed us, “Smells like Holy Spirit – the prayer pit [sic –
prayer pit] at a Festival Con Dios Christian rock show.
`It’s different enough from a church service,’ a mother says,
`yet has all the moral values we believe.” Now there’s a
statement I could work on a while. And I am somewhat
bemused at the picture of Christians coming out of the prayer
closet and clambering down into the prayer
pit. The next page
treated us to pictures of two teenagers, one with balloons on
her head and an “Abortion is Homicide” tee shirt. In the
other picture a 13 year old pimped at us wearing an “Apostle
Paul’s casual tees” shirt. Be still, my beating
heart. The millennium surely draweth
nigh. And thus began the
article: “`Are you ready to rip the face off this
place?’ screams the lead singer of Pillar. A hyped-up
crowd of teens – 6,000 strong – goes nuts. The
aggressive rap-rock band launches into a pummelling kickoff
number, the surly singer pounding the stage with his
steel-toed boot, sweating right through his baggy Army
fatigues and black bandanna. He gestures like a member
of some vicious street gang as he screams and roars in to the
mike, his arm swinging low as if on the way to the requisite
crotch grab. This crude move is as integral to rap-rock
as the blown kiss is to a lounge act, and is usually
accompanied by a testosteroid explosion of expletives.
The singer’s hand slaps down hard on his thigh – and stays
there. Gripping his pants leg with conviction, he
screams, `Jesus Christ!’ [Somehow or the other, that’s
exactly the same thing I wanted to scream.] Pause.
`Is he in your heart?’” All this, the article informs us, is part of the
Festival Con Dios, “the first [and, if we can still count on
divine mercy, the last] Christian alternative-rock concert”
that will descend upon no less than 30 cities this summer and
fall. But rest assured, restive reader, that all has
been redeemed. “It’s all in the name of
Jesus.”
CUI
BONO? FOLLOW
THE MONEY
Let us gather facts before we
comment. What we are talking about here is BIG money in
what Newsweek calls the “gigantic cathedral of Christian
entertainment.” The Left Behind novels have sold 28.8
million copies and Christian records sold $747 million, not to
mention the turnover amongst legions of Christian bands and
videos and who knows what all else. Christians are
moving out of the entertainment ghetto and into the
“mainstream.” “The heavenly ring of cash registers has
finally grown so loud that major publishers (including Warner
Books) have started Christian book divisions, and independent
gospel-based labels are being snapped up by such corporate
giants as Sony and Universal.” “It took more than prayer to revitalise the
industry. Christian music underwent a makeover, hipping
itself up for the approaching millennium. Starting in
the early ‘90s, its artists began borrowing from more relevant
styles of music and fashion to promote their words of praise.”
[emphasis added] “To young Christians, these rock artists are
Gospel-spreading heroes. Like the kids, they exist
between duelling cultures, forming an unlikely bridge from
explosive teenage rebellion to steady, unwavering
faith.” Yet again, I forbear comment. Not
necessary. The duel has too obviously been
forfeited. Looking for
theological, philosophical, or linguistic depth? Don’t
look here. “’I think rebellion and Christianity go
together,’ says Mark Stuart, 33, lead singer of Audio
Adrenaline, a veteran CCM group that recently started their
own label ... They are the second highest grossing band on
this tour, selling more than 2 million albums since
1992. “Singing about sex and drugs is the easiest thing
to do. It’s old by now. So pretty much the most
rebellious rock-and-roll person you can be is a Christian-rock
frontman because you get people from every side trying to shut
you down.’ In another twist, much of the consternation
over Christian rock comes from evangelical circles. `The
Christian people protesting our shows call it high-decibel
Devil worship,’ says Stuart. `They don’t even know what
we’re doing. They’re just afraid. They probably
saw Jerry Lee Lewis shaking his hips 50 years ago and are
still like “Rock and roll, it’s Devil’s music’.’” Like,
get it? Cool, no? But, like, if 6,000 people show
up, who is trying to shut them down? And, like, is it
persecution when they pull down several million bucks a
year? What a bummer! JUST WHEN YOU THOUGHT IT COULDN’T GET WORSE . .
. The second article
didn’t get any better. It scanned the whole field of
Christian entertainment as a cash cow. It starts with an
interview with one Matthew Crouch, director of The Omega Code,
“a film about an evil media tycoon who steals a secret
Biblical code and threatens to take over the world with it,
only to be thwarted at the last minute by a God-fearing
motivational speaker.” Hooooot, hooot, hooooot, guffaw!! I did not make
that up. It’s right there on page 45. Bill
Shakespeare, eat yore heart out! And here’s an even
bigger hoot: The Omega Code made more than $12 million
in 1999, the highest-grossing independent film that
year. Crouch is now busy visiting 1,900 preachers before
the sequel hits the theatres in September. “The
secret: preachers, both in the churches and on TV,
exhorting their flocks to support an unabashedly Christian
action drama.” Okay, if nobody else will do it, I will state the
obvious: this is not Christian, it’s silly.
Contrary to mainstream evangelical thought, just being silly
doesn’t automatically make anything Christian. On the other hand, maybe it does.
Look at what else Christian entertainment offers. There
are “Bibleman” videos featuring a Scripture-quoting
super-hero. (Look out, Batman!) The Holy Land
Experience, a Disneyworld clone in Orlando. The Creation
Festival East, the country’s largest Christian music
event. And don’t forget the Christian Wrestling
Federation, with names like “The Saint.”
WHAT’S MISSING?
Other than taste and cerebral
matter, what is missing in all this? Where did so many
professing Christians get the idea that they could become the
slaves of Jesus Christ and still pander to the world?
Pondering this, I found these words, “If the world hate you, ye know that it
hated me before it hated you. If ye were of the world,
the world would love his own: but because ye are not of
the world, but I have chosen you out of the world, therefore
the world hateth you. Remember the word that I said unto
you, The servant is not greater than his lord. If they
have persecuted me, they will also persecute
you:” And whatever
happened to “be in the world, but not of the
world”? Goodness, who
doesn’t feel the dilemma? When Lynyrd Skynyrd cranks up
“Sweet Home, Alabama” I start shouting, too. I grew up
on rock and roll. I watched Elvis Presley the first
night he appeared on The Ed Sullivan Show. Things are
not evil in themselves, but what we make of them. But
how can you sanctify the unsanctifiable? Some of this
stuff is just screeching and noise, some silly
posturing. Neither can be redeemed, because they intend
to be ugly or to rebel against the rule of God. How do
you leave the world behind when all your efforts are bent on
looking just like the world? Exactly how much confidence
in the Gospel does that express?
WHOSE MAINSTREAM?
These articles kept talking
about Christian entertainment entering the “mainstream.”
What these Christian people apparently have missed is that
until this century, Christian art was the mainstream.
There wasn’t any other kind, except trash. That doesn’t mean that we are condemned
forever to keep on doing the same things they did in the 15th
century. God does not change, but he has made change the
rule of this world. Our knowledge of him is supposed to
progress throughout history until “the knowledge of God covers
the world as deep as the waters cover the
sea.” And art isn’t
always “nice,” because life in this world is not always
nice. Think about somebody like Flannery O’Connor.
She wrote stories as funny, and as bizarre, sometimes as raw,
as anything the 20th century has produced, yet through it all
courses a deep and unmistakable undercurrent of the grace and
sovereignty of God. Whether she mentions his name or
not, it is always the presence of Christ that overshadows her
world, the Great Fact. Precisely because change is the rule of history,
Christian artists ought to try to take their work beyond
previous excellence. They ought to explore new
avenues. But how can they do that when they are content,
nay, eager, to remain a ghettoised footnote in the
“mainstream” of the secular sewer? Whose mainstream is
it, and who’s the mainstream? Certainly not the secular world’s, nor the
wicked’s. The irony is that no artist can portray any
part of the true or the beautiful except by revealing the
existence and glory of God. The joke is that even if men
curse God, they can only do it with the mouth he gave
them. Any skill, any insight the artist owns, he owns
only because God is, and he is gracious. Thus in an
upside down way, even the wicked praise God. Even the
art of a thorough God-hater – Pablo Picasso, for example – is
possible only because God exists, and is gracious both in his
gifts to men and his forbearance toward the wicked. The
arts can focus on the true and beautiful only because God is
all truth and all beauty. Without him neither
exists. Whatever part of truth the artist teases out can
only lead directly to God, because apart from him no truth
exists and every truth contains all truth. Maybe all these Christian entertainment
folks are stronger than I am, but who can judge his own case
when Mammon bids such a high price? Newsweek writes,
“Already, many of the Christian pop-music groups omit the word
`Christian’ from their CDs. `Our artists tend not to be
very political,’ says the Gospel Music Association’s
Breedan. `They do not want to label themselves in any
way that would disinvite anybody from considering their
art.’” Disinvite? Is that a word? Well, if
it is, count me disinvited. (Personally, I’ll take my
heathenism straight, without the sprinkling of Bible verses,
thank you. It may be poison, but at least it’s honest
poison.) The issue is not
whether they explicitly bear the label “Christian” or
not. You can’t wash the outside of the cup to make the
inside clean. The issue is truth and beauty. The
issue is money. And
of course, the issue is theology. Richard Weaver said
that ideas have consequences. Well, theology has
consequences, and bad theology has bad consequences. Si
monumentum quaeris, circumspice. If you are looking for
a monument, look around you. Bad theology has produced
bad art. The fruit of two centuries of shallow
revivalism, guilt manipulation, escapist millennialism,
do-goodism, easy-believism, baptised psychology, and legalism
have gutted Christianity. The power of emotionalism will
not substitute for the power of the Holy Ghost.
VERITAS FILIA
TEMPORIS
I wouldn’t worry too much.
Truth is the daughter of time, and God will not long suffer
himself to be made ridiculous through his followers. The
Church must return to the truth of the Gospel that the world
always tries to seduce us away from. We are not our
own. We belong to Christ. We are his, and we must
live for him, fight for him, and if need be, die for
him. That is the faith delivered once for all to the
saints, and the world will never applaud us for
it. In his
commentary on Acts 5:19, 20, John Calvin explains the faith
that is needed. The apostles had been imprisoned for
preaching, and an angel miraculously delivered them from
prison. Calvin writes, “[L]et us be aware that God will
increase his Church with spiritual good things, even though he
allows the wicked to vex her. Therefore we must always
be ready for combat; because our condition today does
not differ from theirs. ... “The Lord brought the apostles out of prison, not
because he would free them completely from the hands of their
enemies. Indeed, afterwards he allowed them to be
brought back again and beaten with rods. Rather by this
miracle he meant to declare that they were in his hand and
under his protection, so that he might maintain the credit of
the gospel, partly to confirm the Church again, partly to
leave the wicked without excuse. Wherefore we must not
always hope, nay, we must not always desire that God will
deliver us from death. Rather, we must be content with
this one thing: that his hand defends our life, as far
as it is expedient. ... “What is the end of their deliverance? That they
employ themselves in preaching the gospel stoutly, and provoke
their enemies courageously, until they die valiantly.
[emphasis added] For at length they were put to death
when the hand of God ceased, but only after they had finished
their course. Now, however, the Lord opens the prison
for them, so that they may be free to fulfil their
function. “That is
worth our marking, because we see many men who, once they have
escaped out of persecution, afterwards keep silence, as if
they had done their duty towards God and were no more to be
troubled. Others, also, escape by denying Christ.
But the Lord delivers his children, not to the end that they
may cease from running the course they have begun, but rather
that they may more zealously run it afterward. The
apostles might have objected, “It is better to keep quiet for
a while, since we cannot speak even one word without
danger. If they arrest us now for only one sermon, how
much more will we inflame our enemies’ fury when they see us
speak without ceasing?” “But because they knew that they were to live and to
die to the Lord, they do not refuse to do what the Lord
commanded. So we must always mark what function the Lord
enjoins on us. Many things will meet us which will
discourage us unless we content ourselves with the commandment
of God alone and do our duty, committing the success to
him.” Now somehow or
other, this passage and its imperative – “that they employ
themselves in preaching the gospel stoutly, and provoke their
enemies courageously, until they die valiantly” – does not
evoke a mental image of a Christian rock concert. It
does not call up pictures of the Christian Wrestling
Federation, or marketing knock-offs like “Left Behind” canvas
bags or WWJD sunglasses. It does not make me think of
posturing musicians raking in mega-bucks while supposedly
being “persecuted” for Christ’s sake because they sneak the
word “Jesus” into their lyrics, or backmask it in so the name
will be there but nobody will be “disinvited” from spending
their money. All of this
is just baptised self-centeredness, self-promotion, and
self-indulgence. Some of it is merely silly, the rest,
pernicious. When the writer of Hebrews was confronted by
childishness not nearly as wanton as this, he stated the
obvious: grow up. (Heb. 5:12-14). What else
can we say to the Church today? Nothing. Grow
up.
-- F.
Sanders
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