Bazan's Pulpit

One of my favorite artists growing up (in high school and college) was David Bazan. Lyrically he was incredible. In one song he could plumb the depths of despair, grief, and hopelessness and follow it up with words filled with grace and beauty. He wrote two concept-ish albums that were literary and captivating. And then suddenly he became a preacher. Many would argue he has always been preaching (perhaps lyrics are less preachy when we like what the "preacher" is preaching), yet since the time of Achilles' Heel he has acquired what could probably be considered an indie rock bully pulpit. Where at one time his lyrics were profound and rich, they have been reduced to pointed, direct attacks at everything from politics to God. Where is the ambiguity and subtlety that doesn't blow us away? To be told who to vote for and what to believe is not art, it's propaganda.
I'll never forget reading on the press release for The Headphones (a former side project) a few years back that his lyrics tap into prophetic vision of Flannery O'Connor. That struck me as audacious and an insult to Miss O'Connor. She most certainly had prophetic vision, she could discern the lack of Gospel spirituality in our culture. She vividly pointed out in her short stories and novels the fact that we all walk around consumed with ourselves. Bazan is merely a cynic who doesn't like the church very much or a God that might take issue with human behavior (let alone the human heart)
Below are the words to a new song floating around the internet called "When We Fell." In this song Bazan is content with a God who sits back and watches his children bask in their self-absorption. For Bazan, the God who upholds his glory is medieval. The God who lets be what will be is the only God worthy of such a title. Much like the parent who lets their child wallow around in their own fecal matter, we just need a God who is relaxed and tells us to clean ourselves off if we feel like it. This is far from the God of Flannery O'Connor. Her God required (through the medium of creative writing) murderers to murder, children to drown at their own self-baptism, bulls to gorge, and blind prophets to cry out for a church of Christ with no Christ to remind us just how self-consumed and blind we all are. The grace of God for O'Connor wasn't always cuddly and warm, but it was relentless and ultimately satisfying. These two messages couldn't be further apart. For O'Connor we are fundamentally not OK. For Bazan we are.
We love ourselves and we'll be damned before we acknowledge a God who isn't just as enamored with us as we are. Ultimately Bazan wants a god who will let us wallow around in filth, when in reality we need a God who will wash us in the blood of the Lamb, however medieval that may be.

With the threat of hell hanging over my head like a halo
I was made to believe in a couple of beautiful truths
That eventually had the effect of completely unravelling
The powerful curse put on me by you

When you set the table
When you chose the scale
Did you write a riddle
That you knew they would fail
Did you make them tremble
So they would tell the tale
Did you push us when we fell

If my mother cries when I tell her what I have discovered
Then I hope she remembers she taught me to follow my heart
And if you bully her like you’ve done me with fear of damnation
Then I hope she can see you for what you are

What am I afraid of
Whom did I betray
In what medieval kingdom does justice work that way
If you knew what would happen
And you made us just the same
Then you my Lord can take the blame

The New Hymnographers

My friend and housemate Matt and I like old hymn texts but don't care much for old hymn tunes (there are always exceptions). So we write new tunes to beautiful Gospel-centered, Trinity-exalting texts and hope to inspire a renewal in intelligent orthodox music in our churches. So check out The New Hymnographers and let us know what you think. Enjoy.

http://www.myspace.com/thenewhymnographers

Oh and for those wondering, no, Neko Case is not a part of this project.

Evil and The Dark Knight

I've been meaning to blog something about The Dark Knight ever since I saw it opening weekend. It was an excellent film that clearly transcended its genre (I still think the plot was a bit convoluted toward the end and tried to be too much) yet I feel kind of disturbed by the reaction it has been getting especially within the Christian community. As a cinephile I am accused of watching a lot of content that I am told I shouldn't watch and while I have my responses to these individuals, I've been shocked by the way The Dark Knight has escaped such criticism. Anyway, I found this post randomly by a guy I don't even know and what he has to say is far better than what I planned on writing.

the king of kong

The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters is a beautiful reminder of why I love film and find myself sitting through two hours of mediocrity most of the time - there is always the hope of being blown away. This documentary about obtaining the world record at the classic arcade video game Donkey Kong is superb. Cassie and I finished watching it and both looked at each other repeating back and forth how great this movie is (and then immediately joined the Facebook group "Steve Wiebe is the Real King of Kong"). I've always had a ton of respect for documentary filmmakers and Seth Gordon has produced a masterpiece filled with characters I don't think Hollywood's screen writers could come up with. It's one of the best docs I've ever seen (probably second to only Hoop Dreams) and I urge anyone interested in being entertained for 90 minutes to immediately stop and drop it in your queue.

for my listening pleasure

city of god

After recently revisiting Fernando Meirelles’ and Katia Lund’s 2003 film City of God (Cidade de Deus), I was struck once again by its utter brilliance. It is an interesting example of the importance of the artistic medium of film because it is not the plot that is so captivating, but rather the world that we are brought into using the visual and the auditory. It is a very rough and physical world of poverty and violence that is conveyed to the audience through mostly handheld DV with a traditional Brazilian soundtrack. The beginning of the movie takes place in a housing project called the “City of God,” establishing the background of the gang-members (“hoods”) with whom the film focuses. These scenes in the projects introduce us to the impoverished lifestyle that helps to form their characters. The scenes are noticeably orange and yellow reflecting the intense heat (literal and figurative) in which its citizens live. It is a physically hot environment that is only exasperated by the violence and desperate nature of its inhabitants. Rio de Janeiro, in which the majority of the rest of the film takes place is mostly shot with cool colors representing a transplant of the kids from the City of God into a new environment, a mixed environment of rich and poor, white and black, and common citizens along with the most wicked of society. Violence is prevalent throughout the film and while gruesome at times, one gets the impression that for the characters this is just life. You will be hard pressed to preach to people that grow up in this environment the sanctity of life. They are the forgotten of society, the desperate, and the downtrodden. The majority of the film captures rival street gangs seeking to gain control of the streets and of small-time drug dealing but perhaps the larger purpose is just survival.
City of God is a definitive example of the docudrama, where the unknown, amateur actors are so compelling that there are times where you are honestly astonished that these are actors. The movie is violent and there are scenes that many would consider sexually explicit, yet all of these factors help contribute a key reason for watching important films, specifically they transport us from our comfortable lives of suburbia into a brand new world of poverty, violence, and injustice. It is a dark and disturbing environment that cries out for something more than morality lessons and government handouts.
It is interesting that the characters live in a city called the City of God, where God is seemingly absent. Yet the paradox is that God isn’t absent. We see children made in the image of God forsake their relative innocence for belonging and acceptance by horrific gang initiations. Apparent is the need for God-shaped holes to be filled. We see the ugliness of sin reflected in the perversity of the characters lives contrasted with the beauty of Brazilian sunsets and panoramics. City of God brilliantly poses the paradox of great films with disturbing subject matter: beautiful hideousness. The ugliness of humanity’s sin shot along with and through the beauty reflective of God’s common grace, whether through locations or the director’s aesthetic vision. Films like City of God wake us up to the fact that we are not ok and the rest of the world is not ok. Far too many Christians live their lives (and by default view art) as if people have dirty hearts that just need sanitization. Films like City of God should remind us instead that we have dead hearts in need of transplants.

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