The title is a bit strong. I did it on purpose. This topic is pregnant and in need of a thorough delivery; one I couldn’t possibly unpack in just one petty blog entry. But it’s worth a stab. (Don’t stab anything that’s pregnant)
“I grew up in a very strict religious home. Had the do’s and don’ts of the Bible drilled into my head. I think, the older I got, the more suspicious I became of what all of that stuff was about, but was still strangely drawn to it. I have to assume everyone at some point in their life has had some tie in with religion whether they’ve embraced it or not. I think it’s a valid subject matter that intrigues us all on some level. As much bullshit that inherently gets attached to that topic, it’s still a part of me somehow, and when I sit down to write songs those ideas inevitably surface.”
In regards to music, there are beautiful works that come and go, but only a handful of artists that I consistently listen to. Mute Math is one of them. I won’t go on about their music, but I will say that their work has a contagious creativity that upon listening, makes you want to hit the canvas, studio or dark room and create your greatest work. Truth. The quote above was the lead singer, Paul Meany’s, explanation for the spiritual (Christian, yet at face-value not exclusively Christocentric) lyrics he writes in his songs. I’m not mad at the man’s response…per se, but it makes me think. I think about the kinds of responses I conjure when my non-Christian friends or strangers ask me to interpret a visual or audio piece of mine that points to God. The answer is usually simple, yet…complicated.
Why?
Two months ago I was listening to a piercing sermon from Dr. Timothy Keller on the shape-shifting spirit of idolatry; biblically referred to as, “elemental spirits of the earth.” He surprisingly felt the need to talk about artists – maybe not so surprising since he’s in New York – and their perpetual worship of self-expression. He pointed it out in a pinch through pinpointing exactly what an artist loves and hates. Though I can’t say he speaks for me personally, he goes on to explain the animosity they have for someone like the Wall Street man. “You can’t be an artist and work with them! All they care about is money!” They spot the chain of their adversary’s idol and embrace the superior, deeper, intangible, more complex value of their own: Self-Expression. Still an idol, nonetheless, he says.
For one reason or another, God has cursed/blessed me with a mind that thinks and reflects too much for it’s own good. Maybe this is why I plan on finding myself at Westminster. Or maybe it’s a reason to stay the hell home. Over time, I decided that what Keller said actually cuts pretty deep. Self-expression is indeed an artist’s God, though it seems a bit irrational to just label it completely as “Golden Calf” and cast it into the fire. Pardon me (not sarcastically) for being predictable and vulnerable on the issue, but what, aside from God the almighty father, His son as the redeeming sacrifice and holy example, and the Holy Spirit as our helper and passageway to repentance is more invaluable than our self-expression? I know that self expression typically leads to exhibitionism which people generally see as something negative since it gives birth to self-centeredness and self-exhaltation. In Christian circles, the exhibitionist is the guy with the 4 hour testimony (not belittling that “guy” or his testimony if it really is a 4-hour long story. Praise God). Of course, like almost any good thing made ultimate, self-expression can become a terrible vehicle of sin; there’s nothing worse than being a depressed artist. It takes twice as much effort to break that stubborn darkness when you’re documenting it in your work and reviewing it constantly…or milking it.
But there are a significant amount of fruits that come out of self-expression that people freely enjoy such as cinema, music, books, even blogs which are the rawest form of exhibitionism. It’s hard to act very humble with a blog; you obviously think that you have something important to say. Of course, the people who pride themselves in not having one for that very reason have just exchanged one sin for another, so ha. Totally kidding. But not really.
The truth is that we love the casualties of self-expression, but you cant have the fruit without the seed. And in that respect it seems like it’s pretty reasonable to say that self-expression is a good thing and the lack thereof produces a dry, one-dimensionality to everything.
The only difference between someone who is an artist and someone whose not isn’t their upbringing, or the hardship in their life, or their lack of friends. There are lots of introverts and afflicted people who will never draw or write just like how there are extroverted people who will pick up the paintbrush or boot-up Photoshop. The difference between me and the guy who doesn’t think he’s an “artsy-fartsy” type is that I will step out and make something with what I know…over and over until other people like it. Some people don’t, which is fine. But there are more artists than you think. John Piper is an artist, and he probably sucks at drawing. People who use artists to do what they can’t are artists as well. It’s the same principle: stepping out and making something with what you’ve known. If God knows you and has saved you, you can make something of it to look at. It will never be the face of God Himself, but it can point to Him if it was made to glorify him.
Christian Musicians’ responses to interview questions about their spirituality like Paul Meany’s above are perfect examples of things that happen when the gospel meets art and the indwelling sin that comes from self-expression. This obviously doesn’t apply to Christians in the Worship or CCM genre. Their marketing strategy revolves around the fact that they directly and unambiguously love Jesus Christ, so there typically isn’t a complication there. Somehow (not all of the time), mass recognition of a Christian artist’s work in the secular genre makes his perception of God and the gospel get very ambiguous and blurry. It’s almost completely predictable now. You find strong spiritual messages in the first album, and as more music comes out, the once proclaimed inspiration for everything fades into the background. I always like to Google the musician’s explanation for it all since people notice and always ask in the interviews. Typically in an artist’s response, there’s either no sense of doctrine at all: like we’re all going to a heaven to run in green grasses and lick lollipops, or it heads down a complex, philosophical road where almost all of the time it retains the concept of total depravity, but the idea of repentance or an enabling power of anything are not mentioned.
I’ll be honest, and yes I’m setting myself up to get slandered by the crowds of ‘Relevant’ folks by saying that when I read Meany’s explanation for his Christian lyrics, I was like “What are you smoking?” It’s not because he cursed, and it’s not because he didn’t quote John 3:16. It was because the explanation was so misrepresenting. This is the guy who was once a member of an overtly Christian band prior to Mute Math. Even in Mute Math, he and his bandmates continued to lead worship at conferences (I have a worship CD by them from a year ago) and it just seems odd that this part of his life never made its way after his story of “I grew up in a very strict religious home. Had the do’s and don’ts of the Bible drilled into my head.” His explanation makes his faith seem like such a distant, external, impersonal thing. He goes on to say “the older I got, the more suspicious I became of what all of that stuff was about, but was still strangely drawn to it.” There’s our idol of self-expression, so subtle and quiet. We want to claim that belief in Christ as our own making. It’s no longer sight given to us, when he passionately sang “All you ever do, is change the old for new.” Instead, it’s more impressive to make it a small religious, household concept that we independently chose to question, test, observe, and then maybe grasp if we were intrigued enough.
“As much bullshit that inherently gets attached to that topic, it’s still a part of me somehow, and when I sit down to write songs those ideas inevitably surface.” That’s more or less saying “I can’t control it. My parents drilled it and now it just comes out.” Any type of compassion or outward expression of spirituality becomes something that simply fell into the creative mix of other equally important influences. From an artist’s standpoint, it gives a unique edge. I get this image of a raw, religious lyrical bite that makes the music that much more interesting. But were the distant choice of words truly representative? Or just non-confrontational. And yeah, it didn’t bother me, but the curse word added a nice rebellious touch to it all. It’s an email interview that he was having, so he had a chance to think about how he would respond, and for whatever reason, this was the only question where cussing seemed absolutely necessary.
I know, that seemed a bit harsh. Though, to be fair, no harsher than the everyday Christian cynic who would tear me apart for feeling just as afflicted and nervous as Paul Meany does and pointing out where he said some odd things. I’ve said some jacked up gospels to people out of nervousness and I’ve tried to mystify my faith to make it sound more attractive or chosen. It’s just some interview from some guy. Today’s cultural Christians are taking the Bullhorns and megaphones away from yesterday’s Christians just to yell into them themselves. It’s what’s trendy right now. Don’t get caught up in trying to make God’s given gospel your own whimsical philosophy. Man doesn’t and is incapable of seeking God for who he really is on his own (Romans 3:11). No one wants to say they’re a Christian because they’re so uptight about being judged politically. You don’t have to refrain from calling yourself a Christian just because you’re not a right-wing Republican. You know that’s not what the word means. Being paranoid about the non-Christian thinking otherwise isn’t very helpful. You’ll find that most people don’t care. And if they do and they ask you your stance on this and that, you can just say what it is. You don’t have to deny who you are, or else you’ll have a hard time standing up for what you believe in. I’m speaking from experience. It will hurt you. Self-expression is so attractive and it’s ever-so sneaky. It’s hard.
I suppose sharing the gospel directly seems odd because it feels like you’re is cheapening your whole belief system by explaining the meaning to life in under 10 minutes. It seems so silly that it’s possible. Is it? (Haha, even on this blog I don’t want to admit that it is. It sounds so much more pleasing to my ear to make the gospel into the form of a question.)
It’s difficult because you don’t want to lose credibility as an artist in that moment. When people know that you’ve surrendered your entire belief system , all of your thoughts and systematic reasoning to the confines of a book it’s almost like committing intellectual suicide. The idol of self-expression is crushed in people’s eyes because they assume that all free thinking, all testing, all questioning, all observing and all challenging is completely done away with in your confession to being a Christian. The depth is obliterated. Your thoughts are reduced to the shallowness of ink on a frail bible page. All contemplation has been limited to the commands of an old man on a soapbox in a sanctuary. This is how people see it. From face value, there’s nothing more one-dimensional than this. All art finds a root in conceptual art which constantly revolves around mentally wrestling, and at face value the world doesn’t see the possibility of that taking place in Christianity. It begs any Christian artist to ask “Is God deep?” “Does his theology have depth?” “Can I stick this branch in it and hit the floor, or will I completely fall in?” “Can it really surround me and embrace me?”
You want to make it seem like it’s more, but it already is. You already know that this whole Christian life is wrestling, testing, questioning, failing, and growing. You don’t have to feel like you gotta prove the existence of something that is already there. You can commit a terrible mistake by belittling & cheapening God’s word to make the gospel more fashionable. You could suggest that his love story wasn’t deep enough and we could falsely assume that we’re deeper than God when we make script revisions. He is the art director. All of our art points to Him. We don’t revise his work and call it our own piece. This isn’t our exhibition. All idols die when we realize that it has always been and will continue to be his.
There’s a reason why the Relevant/emergent church community and the art community go hand in hand almost all of the time. They meet at the point of self-expression and feed off of each other for worth. Art becomes a marketing and liberalizing tool. Churches let the artist run free; “throw as much paint splatter, vector outlines, organic flourishes, and jutting arrows as you want. As long as a flock of twenty-somethings come out to our service to lead our congregation with unbiblical ideas, like having church at a coffeehouse roundtable for 20 minutes or holding prayer groups in iChat.”
I have nothing against iChat. I love iChat.
Let me put it like this: you can play word gymnastics with explaining the gospel and the reason why you do what you do as an artist, but at the end of the day, you are going to have to look uncool and unmystical when you say that there was a man who was fully God who died for our sins and was raised three days later. You’re going to have to say it and people are going to think you are stupid. The bible says it and I guarantee it. I’m tired of seeing the ways in which we can hold it back from people with our cigarette-kissing, too-conceptual-for-interpretation artist trip.
Grow up. You got saved, damnit. Rejoice. I love you. As usual, I’m always open for corrections and “Hey! You sound like an idiot”s.
