Whatever is True

"Christian is a great noun but a poor adjective." -- Rob Bell in Velvet Elvis: Repainting the Christian Faith

One of my favorite people in the whole world is my friend Caleb. I first met Caleb in the summer of 2004, when he was a teenager and was serving in my town as a missionary for the summer. I remember the first time I saw him at church; dressed up, tie and all, but sporting a heavy beard and shaggy hair.

In the years since, we have become very close friends -- and his beard has grown much, much longer. We occasionally come to different conclusions on issues, but we have much in common: our steady opposition to mountaintop removal (we attended I Love Mountains Day together last year, along with his fiancee, Janie), our deep appreciation for Wendell Berry's work, our love for The Boss (although mine far outweighs his!). Probably my favorite thing about Caleb is that he seems more comfortable in his own skin than anybody I know. The guy is absolutely unpretentious, in a way I wish I could be.

(None of that has anything to do with what I want to write about; I just wanted to introduce you to my friend.)

Caleb is also an extremely talented writer who has completed a first draft of a book (which I have had the privilege of proofreading) and has a number of blogs with various themes. I find the most recent addition to be fascinating. In "Twelve Months of Change," Caleb will be facing a different challenge, a la Morgan Spurlock, for each month of 2012. His first mission: He is spending the month of January on an exclusive diet of Christian music.

Now, before you rush to judgment, I should tell you that Caleb has no illusions about this particular venture. He writes:

"I'm worried that this move could be viewed as Pharisaical or legalistic. As I've stated earlier, I've heard from God numerous times through so-called 'secular' artists and just because an album is sold in a Christian bookstore does not mean that the artist's heart is pure. I do not believe that listening to only Christian music will somehow get me in good with 'the Man upstairs' or incline God toward answering my prayers. It won't even make me more holy -- so this experiment is not exactly about that."

So please don't think that my writing is in any way intended to belittle or criticize my friend's challenge -- as I stated earlier, I find it fascinating. I'm only weighing in because his experiment has got me thinking about truth.

My upbringing was not all that different from Caleb's -- we both grew up in church. In fact, "heavily involved" barely begins to describe my association with my church's youth group throughout my teenage years; I practically lived at church. I recall, at various times during those years, facing the supposed "big issue" of whether or not it was OK to listen to music that wasn't "Christian" (by which I mean music made by Christians and marketed to a Christian audience). The scripture that was frequently used to answer this question was Philippians 4:8, which reads, "Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable -- if anything is excellent or praiseworthy -- think about such things" (NIV). Somehow, this was (mis)taken as another way of saying, "Yes, Jarrod, you should only listen to 'Christian' music."

(I'm quite embarrassed to admit this now, but I recall one revival-fueled episode during my teenage years in which several people from the church -- myself included -- made a bonfire, into which we cast all of our "sinful" stuff: CDs, movies, and the like. Thankfully, this didn't set me back a great deal, as I had very little "secular" music in my collection at that point.)

Fast-forward about 15 years. I still think Philippians 4:8 is a great measuring stick for the music I enjoy -- but now I understand it completely differently.

In particular, the beginning and end of Paul's admonition -- "whatever is true" and "if anything is excellent or praiseworthy" -- suggest something much broader than music that fits neatly into the "Christian" category. For that matter, the lion's share of Christian music is neither "excellent" nor "praiseworthy" -- and, in some ways, perhaps isn't even "true."

Here's what I mean by that last part: A lot of Christian music conveys a message along the lines of, "Life really sucked, and then I found Jesus, and now everything is wonderful." If you have followed Christ for any amount of time, you probably learned really quickly that life is still not wonderful -- at least not all the time. Even when there is some measure of honesty and conflict in Christian music, it's typically the kind that is resolved in two verses and a bridge ("Things are really bad; oh, wait, I'm having an epiphany; and now things are really good").

Contrast this with one of my current favorite albums. Having received some iTunes gift cards for Christmas, I set about downloading some new music last week and ended up selecting Amos Lee's 2011 release "Mission Bell." Usually, music takes a couple of listens to grow on me. Not so with Mr. Lee's album -- I loved it instantly.

You want truth? Several of Lee's songs are, for all intents and purposes, modern-day Psalms. Take "Violin" for example ("Oh, God, why you been hangin' out in that ol' violin while I've been waiting for you to pull me through?"). Or "Jesus" ("I remember when I was wild and free ... my heart was a skipping stone ... You know, I never thought that you hated me, but I've never felt so alone"). Or "Cup of Sorrow," which expresses a willingness to participate in suffering as a show of solidarity with those who are suffering ("I send a prayer out across the ocean, to a man who's being forced out of his home; I send a prayer out across the ocean, so that he may not suffer there alone").

This is truth -- and, according to Paul, that makes it worth thinking about.

Or, look at Johnny Cash. While everything the Man in Black did in his twilight years was amazing, my favorite of the American recordings was the first one released after his death. "American V: A Hundred Highways" features a very frail Cash, reeling from the death of his wife and close to death himself, singing songs of pain and desperation ("Help Me," "On the Evening Train," "If You Could Read My Mind") and taking a long look at the end of his life ("Like the 309," "Further On (Up the Road)," "I'm Free from the Chain Gang Now").

Every adjective Paul uses to describe the things we should think about -- true, lovely, excellent, and so forth -- is encapsulated in "American V."

I have long been fascinated with the prophets in the Hebrew scriptures. The prophets were, above all else, truth-tellers. That truth might call the people out for some social injustice or moral deficiency; it might be a soothing balm that healed where someone was hurting; or it might simply give voice to the nation's pain.

My musical hero, Bruce Springsteen, has made a career of this (you knew I couldn't write this post without mentioning Bruce, right?). From exposing injustice in "The Ghost of Tom Joad" to decrying the Iraq War in "Devils and Dust," The Boss has spoken truth in a way many saccharine-sweet Christian artists cannot approach.

Perhaps his most prophetic work was done in 2002 with the release of "The Rising." Recorded in response to the horrendous events of 9/11, the album is simultaneously a funeral dirge ("You're Missing," "Waiting on a Sunny Day") and a call to celebration (the title track, "Mary's Place"). One song, "My City of Ruin," is both -- from lamenting the destruction the narrator sees around him to urging listeners to "rise up" and praying "for the strength, Lord."

Regrettably, my appreciation for The Boss had not yet blossomed back when "The Rising" was released; but I've listened to several live performances from the tour on E Street Radio (thank God for Sirius XM) and recently watched  a concert DVD recorded in Barcelona in 2002, and have never failed to be deeply moved by the power and timeliness of the songs.

(In doing research for this post, I came across an excellent piece about the importance of "The Rising" here.)

Moving past the "truth" test, Christian music regularly fails the "excellence" test.

To be sure, there are a few artists in the Christian music genre who take their art seriously and consistently put out high-quality music. David Crowder is awesome and willing to take risks -- who else needs both turntables and banjos in the studio? Derek Webb is fearless, taking stands that are far from popular with many Christian music fans. Artists like Andrew Peterson write songs that ask questions and inspire.

But these are exceptions. Generally, Christian music is to music what Hunt's is to ketchup -- a knockoff that is clearly inferior to the original.

(Sidebar: Probably my favorite episode of "Seinfeld" was the "Jesus fish" episode, in which Elaine is shocked to find that Puddy's car radio presets are Christian music stations. "I like Christian rock," George chimes in. "It's very positive. It's not like those real musicians who think they're so cool and hip." Classic.)

Finally, in a broader sense, I have a problem with the whole concept of "Christian" music. I fully resonate with the Rob Bell quote at the beginning of this post. We have created an entire Christian subculture that insulates Christians from the outside world -- we can listen to Christian music, attend Christian movies, vacation at Christian theme parks, read Christian newspapers, even freshen our breath with Christian gum bought from a Christian dollar store (sadly, I'm not kidding).

I stumbled across a blog by a fellow apparently named Scott Baker while I was researching. (I should really do this more often -- finding lots of great stuff!) If you don't want to read the whole thing, here's part of what Baker had to say:

"There's no such thing as a 'Christian song,' or a 'Christian book,' or a 'Christian nation.' There are only Christians who do, say, and act. And there is no song, book, speech, or act that is 'un-Christian' either."

If God is the author of truth, then we must accept that all truth is God's truth -- whether it comes through an "approved" instrument or not.

After all, God apparently spoke through a donkey once. Is it so hard to believe that God can speak through a musician or writer who does not believe in God? Or through a movie? Or through the crazy guy you run into outside your office? Or through your Rice Krispies? Well, OK, maybe that's going too far...

Again, I am enjoying following Caleb's blog as he completes Jesus Music January. (And Caleb, if you read this, I will remind you that Crowder's final album comes out Tuesday!) But for those of you who might think Caleb's challenge should last longer than a month -- like, say, the rest of his life -- I encourage you to pursue truth where you find it. God's bigger than your Christian box, after all.