Challenge: Listen to nothing but Christian music for the month of January
Why: To see what effect, if any, the music I consume plays on my mood, outlook, attitude and
relationship with Christ.
-----
If Christian music had a Facebook page, we would be linked by that relationship status that is, at the same time, both ambiguous and revealing: “its complicated.” I’m interested to see if even I can unravel this tangled web.
For as long as I can remember, I have loved music. My parents have videotape of me as a two-year-old, dancing in my diapers to Creedence Clearwater Revival records. As a child, my knowledge of music came from two influential sources: church and my dad. Because my father was a pastor, I spent a great deal of time at church – and for whatever reason, also did a great deal of singing there as well. We sang hymns during adult worship, silly songs with hand motions in Sunday School and a combination of the two during Wednesday night children’s choir practice. At home, however, it was a different ballgame, with my father teaching us to love the music he grew up with: CSNY, the Allman Brothers Band, Bob Dylan and Van Morrison. Before I could even read, I had a head full of Bible-story songs and hippie protest music.
My teenage years can best be described as my “church punk” phase. Steeped in the Christian tradition since birth, the highlights of my week were Sunday and Wednesday night youth group gatherings. Propelled by both my parents and some influential youth workers, I was serious about my faith as a student. Naturally, my choice of music followed suit and I dived into the Christian music scene with all the fervor of a Pharisee. At the same time, though, I worked to live outside the “mainstream” – here’s where the “punk” comes in. I wore (exceedingly) tight t-shirts, a wallet chain, enough bracelets to cover my skinny forearms and Converse tennis shoes. The music I identified with was undeniably Christian, but still would have shocked the good Southern Baptist parishioners at my father’s church.
The first band I absolutely adored was Five Iron Frenzy, a ridiculously silly (but also, at times, quite serious) eight-piece ska band from Denver, Colorado. Around the same time, I discovered fellow ska and swing bands the Supertones, the W’s and the Insyderz. From there, I moved into the hardcore scene with bands like Project 86, Norma Jean and Blindside, not to mention the rock-and-roll of Bleach, Plankeye, Starflyer 59, Mae, Further Seems Forever, the Juliana Theory and the entirely otherworldly sounds of Joy Electric. Those were the glory days of Christian music. I scrimped and saved all my money for trips to the Christian bookstore. I read CCM, 7-Ball and HM magazines. I went to concerts, bought t-shirts, and even did school projects on my favorite bands. I attended the Ichthus Christian Music Festival every year from 7th grade until I graduated high school. My room was filled with posters, albums, stickers and drumsticks. I even had a chart that compared the sound of secular bands to their Christian alternatives, allowing me the rare ability to help friends kick their worldly music habit. For a time, I wouldn’t consider listening to anything that wasn’t created by Christians, for Christians.
A few days ago, as my family gathered to open Christmas presents, I once again received that magical gift I’ve been asking for since my youth: CDs. (In fact, the first albums I ever owned were Christmas gifts I received as a sixth grader – very un-punk titles like Michael W. Smith’s “I’ll Lead You Home,” and the year-in-review Christian music compilation “WOW 1997.”) Of the eight albums I received this year, only two were by Christian artists; fifteen or so years since I discovered Christian rock, this pretty accurately represents where my musical tastes now lie. If I had to guess, I’d say roughly three-fourths of the music I listen to on a daily basis – at work, while running, in the car – is “secular;” that is, not created solely for Christian consumption. Long gone are the glory days of my youth, when I refused to play bass guitar in garage bands that didn’t play Christian music and I actually asked for help from my high school accountability partner because I was starting to like the music of the Red Hot Chili Peppers. My, how times have changed.
The passing of years has brought with it both age and wisdom. As I grew older, I was forced to watch most of my favorite Christian bands came to the end of their careers. I attended the farewell tours of Five Iron Frenzy and Bleach, and read about the breakups of many, many more. The Christian bands rising up to take their place, however, left me wanting. Instead of original and artistic, I saw in them only cookie-cutter copies of what was selling in popular music. Aside from a handful of artists (Derek Webb, David Crowder, and Andrew Peterson, for example), I’ve remained rather unimpressed with the current state of Christian music and found myself looking elsewhere for original and meaningful art.
The wisdom of aging, however, has also afforded me the realization that not all art in this world can be classified as either black or white – there is plenty of room for shades of gray. Artists like Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen and Dave Matthews have a way of discussing faith that is, at the same time, compelling, vulnerable and moving, yet their music will never be sold in a Christian bookstore. I’ve experienced Godly truth in albums by Bright Eyes, Mumford & Sons and the Avett Brothers, and even found nuggets of spiritual wisdom in the lyrics of KanYe West, Lupe Fiasco and the Roots. Over the years, as I’ve distanced myself from the “Christian” music scene, I’ve been pleasantly surprised to find both Christians and spiritual seekers all over the musical map. In the scriptures, God spoke to man in a myriad of ways: through silence, in the midst of a fire, even through the mouth of a donkey. In my life, He has been faithful to teach me about His love, forgiveness and redemptive plan for humanity through musical artists just as varied, both believers and nonbelievers.
Living hundreds of years before Christ, Plato is credited with saying that music has the power to “find its way into the secret places of the soul.” As a lifelong music fan, and now worship leader at a local church, I find that I agree with him wholeheartedly. Music is an integral portion of every worship service because it has the ability to connect us with God in a way that mere words do not allow. Music has a mystery to it, an ancient power that is still little understood – it has a way of getting inside us. I don’t mean to say that bad decisions can be blamed on music; I don’t believe that tragedies such as the Columbine school shooting can be scapegoated onto artists like Marilyn Manson. But at the same time, my mother always taught me “garbage in, garbage out.” A plant given water and sunlight will grow, but a plant placed in darkness and given soda will not survive. To some degree, my mom’s lesson must be true, even in regards to music.
When the idea for “Twelve Months of Change” – embarking on twelve challenges, one per month for the duration of 2012 – was hatching in my brain, I knew one of the challenges would have to focus on my love of music. It plays too vital a role in my day-to-day life to remain untouched; unless I am reading or sleeping, there is almost always some music playing. At first, I thought I’d go for the big guns, planning a whole month without any music – but I had to quickly veto that idea. Honestly, I don’t think I could make it. I wouldn’t even wish that on my worst enemies. So the original plan has been scaled back into what I’m calling “Jesus-Music January:” a whole month devoted to listening to nothing but Christian music.
To be honest, I’m not exactly thrilled about this venture, mostly because of what that means I’ll forced to listen to on the radio in the car, and the fact that I’ll have to neglect six of my new Christmas CDs (I’m looking at you “Undun” by the Roots). But even more so, 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. But I do wonder how much of an effect the music I consume plays on my day-to-day life – my attitude, demeanor, and outlook. This month is really about putting the local Christian music radio station to the test, seeing if it really can make me, as it proclaims to be, “positive and encouraging.”
As a middle school student, one of my favorite records was by Smalltown Poets, a Christian rock band from Georgia. Near the end of their debut album is a song in which the band, posing as unbelievers, asks “what’s it like inside the bubble?” It’s been almost ten years since I’ve spent any serious time inside the bubble that is the Christian music subculture. But come January 1st, I’ll be jumping back in, head first. Every few days, I’ll post my thoughts, new artists I’m discovering, and if feel making the switch to Christian music is really having any effect on my outside life. As the clock strikes midnight on the New Year, I’ll be re-syncing my iPod for Jesus-Music January – and you’re invited along for the ride.
Why: To see what effect, if any, the music I consume plays on my mood, outlook, attitude and
relationship with Christ.
-----
If Christian music had a Facebook page, we would be linked by that relationship status that is, at the same time, both ambiguous and revealing: “its complicated.” I’m interested to see if even I can unravel this tangled web.
For as long as I can remember, I have loved music. My parents have videotape of me as a two-year-old, dancing in my diapers to Creedence Clearwater Revival records. As a child, my knowledge of music came from two influential sources: church and my dad. Because my father was a pastor, I spent a great deal of time at church – and for whatever reason, also did a great deal of singing there as well. We sang hymns during adult worship, silly songs with hand motions in Sunday School and a combination of the two during Wednesday night children’s choir practice. At home, however, it was a different ballgame, with my father teaching us to love the music he grew up with: CSNY, the Allman Brothers Band, Bob Dylan and Van Morrison. Before I could even read, I had a head full of Bible-story songs and hippie protest music.
My teenage years can best be described as my “church punk” phase. Steeped in the Christian tradition since birth, the highlights of my week were Sunday and Wednesday night youth group gatherings. Propelled by both my parents and some influential youth workers, I was serious about my faith as a student. Naturally, my choice of music followed suit and I dived into the Christian music scene with all the fervor of a Pharisee. At the same time, though, I worked to live outside the “mainstream” – here’s where the “punk” comes in. I wore (exceedingly) tight t-shirts, a wallet chain, enough bracelets to cover my skinny forearms and Converse tennis shoes. The music I identified with was undeniably Christian, but still would have shocked the good Southern Baptist parishioners at my father’s church.
The first band I absolutely adored was Five Iron Frenzy, a ridiculously silly (but also, at times, quite serious) eight-piece ska band from Denver, Colorado. Around the same time, I discovered fellow ska and swing bands the Supertones, the W’s and the Insyderz. From there, I moved into the hardcore scene with bands like Project 86, Norma Jean and Blindside, not to mention the rock-and-roll of Bleach, Plankeye, Starflyer 59, Mae, Further Seems Forever, the Juliana Theory and the entirely otherworldly sounds of Joy Electric. Those were the glory days of Christian music. I scrimped and saved all my money for trips to the Christian bookstore. I read CCM, 7-Ball and HM magazines. I went to concerts, bought t-shirts, and even did school projects on my favorite bands. I attended the Ichthus Christian Music Festival every year from 7th grade until I graduated high school. My room was filled with posters, albums, stickers and drumsticks. I even had a chart that compared the sound of secular bands to their Christian alternatives, allowing me the rare ability to help friends kick their worldly music habit. For a time, I wouldn’t consider listening to anything that wasn’t created by Christians, for Christians.
A few days ago, as my family gathered to open Christmas presents, I once again received that magical gift I’ve been asking for since my youth: CDs. (In fact, the first albums I ever owned were Christmas gifts I received as a sixth grader – very un-punk titles like Michael W. Smith’s “I’ll Lead You Home,” and the year-in-review Christian music compilation “WOW 1997.”) Of the eight albums I received this year, only two were by Christian artists; fifteen or so years since I discovered Christian rock, this pretty accurately represents where my musical tastes now lie. If I had to guess, I’d say roughly three-fourths of the music I listen to on a daily basis – at work, while running, in the car – is “secular;” that is, not created solely for Christian consumption. Long gone are the glory days of my youth, when I refused to play bass guitar in garage bands that didn’t play Christian music and I actually asked for help from my high school accountability partner because I was starting to like the music of the Red Hot Chili Peppers. My, how times have changed.
The passing of years has brought with it both age and wisdom. As I grew older, I was forced to watch most of my favorite Christian bands came to the end of their careers. I attended the farewell tours of Five Iron Frenzy and Bleach, and read about the breakups of many, many more. The Christian bands rising up to take their place, however, left me wanting. Instead of original and artistic, I saw in them only cookie-cutter copies of what was selling in popular music. Aside from a handful of artists (Derek Webb, David Crowder, and Andrew Peterson, for example), I’ve remained rather unimpressed with the current state of Christian music and found myself looking elsewhere for original and meaningful art.
The wisdom of aging, however, has also afforded me the realization that not all art in this world can be classified as either black or white – there is plenty of room for shades of gray. Artists like Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen and Dave Matthews have a way of discussing faith that is, at the same time, compelling, vulnerable and moving, yet their music will never be sold in a Christian bookstore. I’ve experienced Godly truth in albums by Bright Eyes, Mumford & Sons and the Avett Brothers, and even found nuggets of spiritual wisdom in the lyrics of KanYe West, Lupe Fiasco and the Roots. Over the years, as I’ve distanced myself from the “Christian” music scene, I’ve been pleasantly surprised to find both Christians and spiritual seekers all over the musical map. In the scriptures, God spoke to man in a myriad of ways: through silence, in the midst of a fire, even through the mouth of a donkey. In my life, He has been faithful to teach me about His love, forgiveness and redemptive plan for humanity through musical artists just as varied, both believers and nonbelievers.
Living hundreds of years before Christ, Plato is credited with saying that music has the power to “find its way into the secret places of the soul.” As a lifelong music fan, and now worship leader at a local church, I find that I agree with him wholeheartedly. Music is an integral portion of every worship service because it has the ability to connect us with God in a way that mere words do not allow. Music has a mystery to it, an ancient power that is still little understood – it has a way of getting inside us. I don’t mean to say that bad decisions can be blamed on music; I don’t believe that tragedies such as the Columbine school shooting can be scapegoated onto artists like Marilyn Manson. But at the same time, my mother always taught me “garbage in, garbage out.” A plant given water and sunlight will grow, but a plant placed in darkness and given soda will not survive. To some degree, my mom’s lesson must be true, even in regards to music.
When the idea for “Twelve Months of Change” – embarking on twelve challenges, one per month for the duration of 2012 – was hatching in my brain, I knew one of the challenges would have to focus on my love of music. It plays too vital a role in my day-to-day life to remain untouched; unless I am reading or sleeping, there is almost always some music playing. At first, I thought I’d go for the big guns, planning a whole month without any music – but I had to quickly veto that idea. Honestly, I don’t think I could make it. I wouldn’t even wish that on my worst enemies. So the original plan has been scaled back into what I’m calling “Jesus-Music January:” a whole month devoted to listening to nothing but Christian music.
To be honest, I’m not exactly thrilled about this venture, mostly because of what that means I’ll forced to listen to on the radio in the car, and the fact that I’ll have to neglect six of my new Christmas CDs (I’m looking at you “Undun” by the Roots). But even more so, 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. But I do wonder how much of an effect the music I consume plays on my day-to-day life – my attitude, demeanor, and outlook. This month is really about putting the local Christian music radio station to the test, seeing if it really can make me, as it proclaims to be, “positive and encouraging.”
As a middle school student, one of my favorite records was by Smalltown Poets, a Christian rock band from Georgia. Near the end of their debut album is a song in which the band, posing as unbelievers, asks “what’s it like inside the bubble?” It’s been almost ten years since I’ve spent any serious time inside the bubble that is the Christian music subculture. But come January 1st, I’ll be jumping back in, head first. Every few days, I’ll post my thoughts, new artists I’m discovering, and if feel making the switch to Christian music is really having any effect on my outside life. As the clock strikes midnight on the New Year, I’ll be re-syncing my iPod for Jesus-Music January – and you’re invited along for the ride.
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