Page 3901 – Christianity Today (2025)

“How am I to define what faith is to a child when the only explanation lies within?/How am I to tell them if they never follow Christ that heaven doesn’t hold a place for them?/Tell me how when I’m no better than them?”
— from “Tell Me How”

There’s a lot of sweetness permeating Rosie Thomas’s personality and music. She regularly incorporates family and faith into her words. She also has a silly sense of humor, partly expressed in the title of her new release, as well as through her comedic alter ego “Sheila,” a pizza delivery woman with Coke–bottle glasses, an arm sling and a neck brace—reminiscent of Gilda Radner and Andy Kaufman. In concert, you’re bound to see both sides of Thomas.

She also has a sweet naïveté about the Christian music industry (though she did briefly sing with Christian alternative pop band Velour 100) and perhaps that’s been for the best. Focusing on the music business at large has afforded Thomas some incredible opportunities and much acclaim from media and audiences alike. Her 2002 debut, When We Were Small, earned strong endorsements from Entertainment Weekly, Billboard, and NPR to name a few.

So it’s time for Christians to become acquainted with this talented and devout songwriter. Raised by a musical family in Detroit, Thomas learned piano and guitar early, performing with her parents and siblings at social functions. Though raised in a Christian home, her faith didn’t catch fire till she was 20, when she attended California’s Calvary Chapel Bible College for a year.

That was five years ago. Since then, Thomas has regularly sought God’s will. She went on to Cornish College, a performance arts school in Seattle, where she developed her loves for music, theater, and comedy. She never finished, however, since her music career took off and she signed with Sub–Pop to release her first album.

The new album title not only reflects Thomas’ outlook, but as a lyric from the Joni Mitchell song “Roses Blue,” it reveals her chief musical influence. One could also compare her to Sarah McLachlan, Sara Groves, and Ani DiFranco because of her beautifully angelic folk voice. Her delicate folk–pop is also rich in vocal harmonies, sometimes relying on multi–tracking her own voice, and in other cases employing the talents of her family. Her mother sings along on the reverberation–drenched opener, “Let Myself Fall,” recorded in Detroit’s oldest church.

Most of the songs center around themes of life’s uncertainties and growing older, alluding to the importance of love and family. In “You and Me,” she credits her mother for helping her understand God’s love, and does the same for her boyfriend in “All My Life.” With “One More Day,” Thomas offers hope to a hurting friend. Her whole family contributes to “I Play Music,” recorded at her father’s house, which chronicles her journey into adulthood: “When I was young, I did it my way/I did it my way and I still do/Held my head up high/Asking God for answers and begging him to tell me what to do.” The song also points to God’s impact on her life: “Never thought that I would ever find you/Or that you’d be looking for me too.”

But perhaps the album’s most challenging track is the Joni Mitchell–styled “Tell Me How” (excerpted above). Some might think Thomas is questioning her faith, when she’s really just asking the hard questions, expressing unworthiness and uncertainty about being a light unto the world. But there’s no doubting Thomas’s beliefs. In a recent interview, she told us that when she writes songs, “The most important thing to me is to write what God puts on my heart and to leave hope in it. I try to make [my songs] like conversation pieces, going through the sorrow to find the bright side, to encourage people to run the race and that everything will turn out all right. It’s really all about hope through faith, the foundation of what I do.”

Unless specified clearly, we are not implying whether this artist is or is not a Christian. The views expressed are simply the author’s. For a more complete description of our Glimpses of God articles, click here.

“How to navigate, how to simply be/To know when to wait, explain simplicity/In whom shall I trust/And how might I be still/Teach me to surrender/Not my will, Thy will”
— from “Falling at Your Feet”

You may never have heard his name (the last name’s French, pronounced “lan–WAH”), but Daniel Lanois was, according to Rolling Stone magazine, the “most important record producer to emerge in the ’80s.” Lanois helmed several of the most seminal pop/rock recordings in the last 20 years–such as U2’s Joshua Tree and Achtung Baby, Peter Gabriel’s So and Us, and Bob Dylan’s Time Out of Mind.

You also may not know that Lanois has released three critically acclaimed solo albums of his own since 1989, including his new release Shine. And chances are you may not know that Daniel was, like his pal Bono of U2, raised a French Catholic—all three of his solo albums include strong examples of his beliefs. Is it a coincidence that this famed producer works almost exclusively with such spiritually minded artists?

Shine is an interesting collage of sound, drawing upon folk, pop, jazz, country, and reggae influences. All of it ties together with the ethereal sounds common to Daniel’s work, though the rootsy elements seem stronger now than ever before. Imagine Christian band Lost Dogs or the O Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack crossed with Peter Gabriel, or Blind Boys of Alabama, and you’re on the right track. Half the cuts on Shine are instrumental, carried by Daniel’s newfound love for pedal steel guitar. The other half features his vocals, which resemble Eric Clapton at his most tender (i.e. “Tears in Heaven” or “Wonderful Tonight”).

The album’s first single, “Falling at Your Feet,” a duet with Bono, was originally included on the Million Dollar Hotel soundtrack. Their voices blend together almost seamlessly in what seems to be a song of praise, acknowledging that all creation will one day bow to the sovereignty of the Lord. “I Love You,” featuring harmonies by Emmylou Harris, begins with an illustration condemning those consumed with greed instead of love: “A man carried metal, carried gold/More than he could handle, more than he could hold/It weighed him down to a sand shallow grave/Where his bones were beaten by a heat wave.”

“As Tears Roll By” resembles the work of classic Christian artists such as Gene Eugene or Mike Roe, expressing the heart of one struggling with his sinful nature in a fallen world filled with temptation. That spiritual lamentation continues into “Fire,” pleading for divine intervention. The encouraging and comforting ethereal country of the title track finds Daniel singing about the unfailing presence of a friend, perhaps God: “In the end the thing that keeps them walking is your shine/Your shine when they wear no coat, your shine when the feeling’s low/Your shine when it’s too late to turn around.”

Shine doesn’t explore matters of faith as clearly as Daniel’s previous solo offerings, but it still should resonate with many Christian listeners. Considering the profound influence this man has had on popular music, we should be thankful he’s using his talents to glorify the Lord–both on his own albums and in the artistic endeavors of other spiritually minded songwriters.

Unless specified clearly, we are not implying whether this artist is or is not a Christian. The views expressed are simply the author’s. For a more complete description of our Glimpses of God articles, click here.

“There’s spirits above and behind me, faces gone black, eyes’ burnin’ bright/May their precious blood bind me Lord, as I stand in your fiery light”
— from “The Rising”

Such is the plea from the title cut of Bruce Springsteen and The E Street Band’s Grammy–winning Best Rock Album, The Rising, a project on which he still reigns supreme as The Boss while also wearing the hats of both a preacher and a peacemaker. Springsteen has frequently woven themes of spirituality in his songwriting — this disc provides deeply personal, spiritually inspired material about September 11 amidst heavy doses of merrymaking rock and roll.

For instance, cuts like “The Fuse,” “Worlds Apart,” “Empty Sky,” and “You’re Missing,” a quartet of tactful mini–sermons covering mourning, anger, loss, and restoration. In “Further On Up theRoad,” Springsteen looks to the hope of heaven for comfort in theloss of a friend: “One sunny mornin’ we’ll rise I know/And I’llmeet you further on up the road.” He also expresses faith topersevere in “Lonesome Day” by singing, “‘This too shall pass,’I’m gonna pray … Let kingdom come, I’m gonna find my waythrough this lonesome day.”

“My City of Ruins” obviously inspires an image of a stricken and wounded New York, but it is actually about Springsteen’s New Jersey upbringing, toward which he pleas for restoration andrevival — “The church’s door thrown open/I can hear the organ’ssong/But the congregation’s gone/My city of ruins.” The chorussoon becomes an intercessory prayer as Springsteen cries, “Withthese hands I pray for the strength, Lord/With these hands I prayfor the faith, Lord/With these hands, I pray for your love,Lord.”

In fact, the only song that seems to conflict with the other prayerful tracks is the rousing “Mary’s Place,” a party–styled anthem in keeping with The Boss’ classic “Glory Days” in which he sings “I got seven pictures of Buddha/The prophet’s on mytongue.” Is he singing personally here or in character for the song? Beyond that track, Springsteen steps up his faith awareness throughout the rest of The Rising, providing solace in his words of faith, hope, and restoration.

Unless specified clearly, we are not implying whether this artist is or is not a Christian. The views expressed are simply the author’s. For a more complete description of our Glimpses of God articles, click here.

Exploring the increasing tendency toward spiritual longing in today’s mainstream music, including Grammy-winning albums from Bruce Springsteen and Coldplay.

This feature isn’t about “safe music.” We’re not vouching for the personal faith of the artists listed below, nor are we suggesting that they don’t have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ.

What we are calling attention to is the increased interest in spiritual subject matter in today’s popular music outside the Christian subculture. Despite the rise in explicit content withinpopular music in recent years, there has also been a rise inspiritual soul searching, with artists expressing a longing forsomething much deeper than the infamous sex, drugs, and rock & roll.

Skeptical? We would be too. But the artists listed here wouldn’t be included if we were just highlighting what Christian listeners wanted to hear. Some of these artists do indeed come from aChristian background, offering glimpses of their faith throughtheir craft. Others still don’t know Christ, but they certainlyknow of him — enough to communicate spiritual longing with an honesty that is refreshing.

We present to you our first edition of “Glimpses of God,” six of perhaps many current examples of spirituality found in today’s mainstream music. Most songwriters will tell you they like to let listeners interpret songs for themselves rather than define theirmusic for them. Decide for yourself from these examples, but we believe that if nothing else, you can use the music of these artists to, as one speaker once put it, “preach from a common pulpit.”

Bruce SpingsteenThe Rising

(Columbia)Classic rock

“There’s spirits above and behind me, faces gone black, eyes’ burnin’ bright/May their precious blood bind me Lord, as I stand in your fiery light” — from “The Rising”

Such is the plea from the title cut of Bruce Springsteen and The E Street Band’s Grammy-winning Best Rock Album, The Rising, a project on which he still reigns supreme as The Boss while also wearing the hats of both a preacher and a peacemaker. Springsteen has frequently woven themes of spirituality in his songwriting — this disc provides deeply personal, spiritually inspired material about September 11 amidst heavy doses of merrymaking rock and roll.

For instance, cuts like “The Fuse,” “Worlds Apart,” “Empty Sky,” and “You’re Missing,” a quartet of tactful mini-sermons covering mourning, anger, loss, and restoration. In “Further On Up theRoad,” Springsteen looks to the hope of heaven for comfort in theloss of a friend: “One sunny mornin’ we’ll rise I know/And I’llmeet you further on up the road.” He also expresses faith topersevere in “Lonesome Day” by singing, “‘This too shall pass,’I’m gonna pray … Let kingdom come, I’m gonna find my waythrough this lonesome day.”

“My City of Ruins” obviously inspires an image of a stricken and wounded New York, but it is actually about Springsteen’s New Jersey upbringing, toward which he pleas for restoration andrevival — “The church’s door thrown open/I can hear the organ’ssong/But the congregation’s gone/My city of ruins.” The chorussoon becomes an intercessory prayer as Springsteen cries, “Withthese hands I pray for the strength, Lord/With these hands I prayfor the faith, Lord/With these hands, I pray for your love,Lord.”

In fact, the only song that seems to conflict with the other prayerful tracks is the rousing “Mary’s Place,” a party-styled anthem in keeping with The Boss’ classic “Glory Days” in which he sings “I got seven pictures of Buddha/The prophet’s on mytongue.” Is he singing personally here or in character for the song? Beyond that track, Springsteen steps up his faith awareness throughout the rest of The Rising, providing solace in his words of faith, hope, and restoration.

Coldplay A Rush of Blood to the Head

(Capitol)Alternative pop/rock

“In my place, in my place were lines that I couldn’t change … I was lost, I was lost, crossed lines I shouldn’t have crossed … I was scared, I was scared, tired and under-prepared, but I’ll wait for it/If you go, if you go and leave me down here on my own, then I’ll wait for you.” — from “In My Place”

Coldplay’s shimmering sophomore effort (a Grammy winner for Best Alternative Music album) is one of those projects that maddeningly blurs many lines, not just between pop and art, but also between songs of earthy love and spiritual yearning. The average listener will surely lean to the former interpretationbecause of the vagueness of the lyrics, but as with the music ofLifehouse, there seems to be much more at stake here than asimple unrequited crush.

The search for purpose, meaning, and (above all) love, is a recurring theme set-up by the majestic “Politik” — “Give me strength, reserve control/Give me heart and give me soul … but give me love over this.” The first radio single, “In My Place” (cited above), is as honest a confessional as any modern worship song or Psalm. The second single, “Clocks,” similarly expresses a prodigal’s humility and longing to return home — “Lights go out and I can’t be saved/Tides that I tried to swim against/Have brought me down upon my knees/Oh, I beg, I beg and plead.” The chorus of the song is simply “You are” and the bridge “Nothing else compares.”

Strangely enough, “God Put a Smile Upon Your Face” offers the album’s most definitive and yet cryptic references to theAlmighty: “Ah, when you work it out, I’m worse than you/Yeah,when you work it out I wanted to/Ah, when you work out where todraw the line/Your guess is as good as mine.” Perhaps ChrisMartin is singing about the fine line between sin and pleasure,stating that everyone is sinful and falls short and that thereare no degrees. A few lines later, he sings of God’s mercy:“Don’t ever say you’re on your way down/God gave you style andgave you grace/And put a smile upon your face.”

According to various interviews and articles, Chris was raised in a Christian home — the son of a minister, in fact — but has since expressed bewilderment with people’s interest in it. Yet A Rush of Blood to the Head is filled with little examples of contrition and redemption. The closing song, “Amsterdam,” expresses depression and the state of mind of a man at the end of his rope — literally or figuratively, it’s not entirely clear — but someone cuts him loose at the song’s end. Is this freedom from depression, or does it refer to a deeper bondage? Much of A Rush of Blood to the Head is abstract enough to leave it open to interpretation, but the themes are just as applicable to matters of faith as they are to matters of the heart.

ZwanMary Star of the Sea

(Martha’s Music/Reprise)Modern/alternative rock

“Jesus, I’ve taken my cross/All to leaveand follow thee/I’m destitute, despised, forsaken/All to leave and follow thee.” — from “Jesus, I/Mary Star of the Sea”

When the Smashing Pumpkins died of natural causes in 2000, their inscrutable singer/songwriter Billy Corgan could have easily packed up his instruments and retired from his hectic rock androll lifestyle with mounds of money in the bank. Instead, he re-teamed with Pumpkins’ drummer Jimmy Chamberlin in 2001, addingguitarists Matt Sweeny (Skunk & Chavez) and David Pajo (Slint,Papa M, Tortoise, Stereolab), plus bassist Paz Lenchantin (APerfect Circle). The alternative rock quintet christenedthemselves Zwan, making their official major label debut withMary Star of the Sea, which incorporates melodic pop, arena rock, and sophisticated, spiritually tinged songwriting.

Spiritually tinged? Corgan? Yes, and it’s present from the very first verse of the album’s first song, “Lyric,” in which he wails, “Here comes my faith to carry me on, a faith not ungreat/Ifight to stay strong so I stand accused of playing numb/I know itis wrong for I give my strength/I give my heart, take thesechains.” His reflections may seem to some nothing more than thepoetic prowess he’s demonstrated with Smashing Pumpkins, butothers might interpret lines that come later in the song aspointing toward heaven above — “A lyric, a time, a crusade, aline/One minute, a friend, a road without end.”

Religious mentions are equally evasive on “Declarations of Faith” as the front man groans, “So stop laughing and play the muse/This heartache rots that which spills from my heart into your will/ So give in to the rivers’ wind/I declare myself, declare myself of faith.” Metaphors for earthly love or indications of a higher power?

By far the most intriguing selection is the epic medley of “Jesus, I/Mary Star of the Sea,” a song that stirs up bombastic instrumental rage with gargantuan guitars and progressivepercussion. The lyrics just don’t get more specific than this,with Corgan clearly singing “Jesus, I’ve taken my cross/All toleave and follow thee.” This is later followed by stirring choruses of“Jesus, Jesus … reborn, reborn,” which could either refer tospiritual renewal or brand new artist life after the end of thePumpkins.

This is all pretty stunning coming from a man who once declared God “empty” with the Smashing Pumpkins — a new article from Rolling Stone magazine indicates that Billy was taught to believe this from his father. Still, Corgan is credited in the liner notes under the name “Billy Burke,” a well-known evangelistic preacher from Florida, which implies that this could possibly all be tongue-in-cheek. It should also be noted that there is some brief profanity found in the songs “Baby, Let’s Rock” and “Yeah.” Questions of context aside, these things pale next to the surprisingly uplifting music of Mary Star of the Sea, which provides a masterful balance between the catchy and cathartic.

Dave Matthews BandBusted Stuff

(RCA)Progressive acoustic jazz/rock

“I’m on bended knee, I pray, Bartender please/Oh when I was young I didn’t think about it/But now I can’t get it out of my mind/I’m on bended knee, please father, please” — from “Bartender”

Arguably the second biggest band in the world today behind U2, the Dave Matthews Band has only grown in popularity over the last decade, defying all age and race demographics. In the summer of 2002 they released Busted Stuff, a reworked collection of songs shelved from a previous recording session. Good thing these acoustic jazz/rock tracks didn’t slip through the cracks. Much ofit ranks with Dave Matthews’s strongest work. It’s also some ofhis most deeply felt, soul-searching, and biblically inspiredmusic since 1994’s “Christmas Song,” which focused on Christ’sbirth and death.

As the title suggests, recurring themes of brokenness permeate this sobering album, especially in tracks like “Grace Is Gone,” “Raven,” and the title cut. Amid the loneliness and grief is a buoyant hit single called “Grey Street,” in which Dave sings about a young woman who finds herself slowly losing hope in light of a fallen world: “There’s an emptiness inside her/And she’d doanything to fill it in/And though it’s red blood bleeding fromher now/It’s more like cold blue ice in her heart.” IgnoringDave’s choice in pronoun, most (if they’re being honest) canrelate to the doubt expressed from some point in their lives — “How she wishes it was different/She prays to God most everynight/And though she swears it doesn’t listen/There’s still ahope in her it might/She says, “I pray, but they fall on deafears/Am I supposed to take it on myself to get out of thisplace?”

It’s sad but true that people question this, but there’s a shred of hope to build upon here — at least such people are acknowledging the existence of God. “You Never Know” similarlycontemplates our existence and whether or not God is stillplaying a role in our lives. The song “Big Eyed Fish” exploreswhat happens when people out of desperation try to live outsidethe life they were created for, with a plaintive and prayerfulchorus that states, “Oh God, under the weight of life things seembrighter on the other side.” One could even interpret the album’sother hit single, “Where Are You Going?,” as a seeker friendlysong: “Where are you going, where do you go?/Are you looking foranswers, to questions under the stars?/If along the way you aregrowing weary, you can rest with me until a brighter day/It’sokay.”

The most intriguing track on Busted Stuff is the rock jam, “Bartender,” a song rife with guilt, a desire for redemption, and several biblical references. Judging from the quote cited above, this seems to be a prayer directed to the One from whom all things flow: “Bartender please, fill my glass for me with thewine you gave Jesus that set him free after three days in theground … Bartender you see, this wine that’s drinking me camefrom the vine that strung Judas from the devil’s tree roots.”

Who can say exactly where Dave Matthews is going with all this? I’m not even sure he can, since his own personal beliefs are all over the map (he seems to have been raised Christian and believes in God, but has since embraced many other religious beliefs). What is certain is that these are the words of someone searching for comfort and meaning to this life. Considering the popularity of the band, this album is a tremendous opportunity forChristians to use as a launch pad for a deeper walk with a Saviorwho makes beauty out of busted stuff.

Robert Randolph & The Family BandLive At the Wetlands

(Dare/Warner Brothers)Soulful, bluesy rock jams

“Problems at my home, I’ve got to press on/Problems on my job, I’ve got to press on/When I’m down to my last dime, I’ve got to press on/When I don’t have my friends, I’ve got to press on” — from “Pressing My Way”

Listening to the six extended jam sessions on Live at the Wetlands has an electrifying, almost dizzying effect on listeners, but one that nonetheless sweeps away your cares and worries thanks to Robert Randolph’s steel guitar mastery. Perhapsthe album’s inspiring elements are due in part to Randolph’sChristian upbringing at the Pentecostal-based House of God Churchin New Jersey where he not only grew in faith, but in steelguitar proficiency. “There’s a long history of guys playing at mychurch, playing lap steels and pedal steels throughout theyears,” Randolph says. “It’s one instrument that you would alwayssee people play there, so I just felt like playing it.”

The talented musician and his three equally impressive bandmates (who play drums, bass, and B-3 organ) have helped foster a new interest in the “sacred steel” movement — a fusing of gospel, country, and blues that is slowly finding a new audience. The unique and successful sound has afforded Robert Randolph and co.opportunities to back The Blind Boys of Alabama on their HigherGround album, tour with John Mayer, and play at the final show inthe now defunct New York club for which this disc was named.Throughout the album’s 70 minutes of concert footage, the wordsare few and far between, with the majority of his musings steepedin instrumental jamming.

There are, however, some instances of sung dialogue, such as the aura of unconditional perseverance surrounding “Pressing My Way” (cited above). In addition to the joyful steel guitar and organ solos, the jam soars to new heights when bassist Danyel Morgan lends his very feminine sounding vocals to the mix, sounding as though he were pulled straight from a gospel choir: “I feel like pressing on my way/Through the storm/Through the rain/I feel like pressing my way.”

Though tracks such as “Ted’s Jam” and “The March” are completely instrumental, they are nonetheless inspirational, putting listeners into a gleeful, perhaps even praiseworthy mood. It’seven safe to say, based on video concert footage, that Randolph’splaying literally gets people dancing and rejoicing as though theywere in a Pentecostal church! “Most of the ministers will tellyou that it’s wrong, but I’m doing it basically for theinstrument,” he explains. “So many people don’t know what pedalsteel is and what you can do with it. It’s been hidden for solong. I’m trying to get it out there and make it as well-known aspossible.” It’s a joyful noise indeed.

Tribe of JudahExit Elvis

(Spitfire Records)Heavy modern rock

“You take offense in what I say/Can’t have it any other way/We’re all subject to the altar that we bow/And to those who disagree/And still believe they can be free/You’re just clinging to a rotten sacred cow” — from “Left for Dead”

Tribe of Judah is the latest artistic endeavor of Gary Cherone, the lead singer of the defunct heavy metal band Extreme, who later recorded one album as the lead vocalist of Van Halen. Healso happens to be an outspoken Christian, and if you have doubts(like U2’s Bono, he’s occasionally prone to profanity), listenclosely to the content of the songs he’s written. Extreme’s 1991hit, “Hole Hearted,” is about the search for fulfillment, and inGary’s case, the hole was God-shaped.

The new album re-teams Gary with Extreme bandmates Pat Badger on bass and Mike Mangini on drums, along with guitarist Leo Mellace and keyboardist Steve Ferlazzo. The result is a blend ofExtreme’s pop-metal bombast with modern industrial electronica — Van Halen or Def Leppard meets Nine Inch Nails. Even more intriguing than the sound, however, is the album’s theme.

If you “read behind the lyrics” in the album’s liner notes, you’ll find a quote by Fyodor Dostoevsky: “If there is no God, then all things are permissible.” Pair that phrase with theApostle Paul’s words from 1 Corinthians chapters 6 and 10(“‘Everything is permissible for me’ — but not everything isbeneficial.”) and then listen to Exit Elvis. The opening song,“Left for Dead” (quoted above), argues over man’s free will andessentially concludes that there is no room for both God’s willand ours. In Rolling Stone magazine, Gary says: “If there is aGod, an absolute law, then ultimately man has to be subject tothat … in order for man to be free, he would have to put God todeath.”

From that statement one could view Exit Elvis as a darker It’s a Wonderful Life, imagining a world without God, completely run by man — it’s not a pretty picture. “Ambiguous Headdress” challenges those who believe that all religions are equal and faith is arbitrary. “Suspension of Disbelief” cynically takes the atheist point of view, declaring that, “heaven’s only just a state of mind.” A similar theme is expressed in “My Utopia,” which issubtitled “anthropolemic” — one who worships human beings.

Fortunately, Exit Elvis is not completely devoid of faith and hope. “East of Paradise” is a strong song of surrender to the Lord: “Take me to another time and place me down upon the water’s edge/Tell me that I’m not the only one who fell in over myhead/Baptized me in your water/Wash iniquity aside, or sacrificeme at the altar.” From the other side of the relationship,“Celibate” seems to be a lonely plea from God for us to return toa relationship with him: “Love me again/Rise from your fall fromgrace … Return from whence you came/Thirst for this cup again.”

If you think these themes would pass over the heads of the average listener or concertgoer, you’d probably be correct.Likewise, most Christian listeners probably won’t grasp thecynicism and hypothetical themes. Most, in fact, will have a hardtime getting past the intense album cover that sequentially showsa handgun being shoved hard against Gary’s neck. The controversial image is an attempt to illustrate the theme of free will and man being the measure of all things. A song of grace that clearly points to the cross would have made for a stronger and more meaningful ending to this seemingly bleak and sometimes (ahem) extreme album, but this is nevertheless challenging and creative music written from a faith-based perspective that recalls the convicting works of Christian artists like Steve Taylor and Mike Roe.

Do you have a current “Glimpse of God,” an example of perceived spirituality in popular music? Drop us an e-mail with your suggestion, and we’ll consider it for future editions.

Click here to view Glimpses of God (Vol. 2), featuring best-selling artists Linkin Park and Evanescence

The second in a continuous series exploring the increasing tendency toward spiritual longing in today’s mainstream music—including mega-sellers such as Linkin Park and Evanescence.

When we first started the Glimpses of God series in early 2003, we wondered how readers would react to a feature focusing on mainstream artists rather than Christian artists. Many of these artists don’t share our beliefs concerning Jesus Christ, and some of them write lyrics that most Christians would consider inappropriate, including profanity and sexual references.

Instead, many readers responded with great enthusiasm for the series. The truth is that more people listen to mainstream music than Christian music. This series is intended to familiarize readers with mainstream artists using Christian themes-whether intentional or not-to express spiritual longing in their music. It can be used to find common ground with those you hope to point to Jesus.

I’d also recommend prayer for the artists featured in Glimpses of God. Some are in fact Christians simply trying to make good music for their audiences. We can pray that they do so effectively and share the Good News in their own way. Other artists apparently have not accepted the Christian faith, but still express a spiritual longing common to all of us. We can pray that these artists will find the peace and comfort found in Christ alone.

The examples below are included because they are solid musical efforts with some spiritual merit to them. They are indeed evidence that our culture is seeking something more to this life.

Link in ParkMeteora

(Warner Brothers)Melodic nümetal

“I want to heal/I want to feel what I thought was never real/I want to let go of the pain I’ve held so long/(Erase all the pain ’til it’s gone)/I want to heal/I want to feel like I’m close to something real/I want to find something I’ve wanted all along/Somewhere I belong” — from “Somewhere I Belong”

Though the nü-metal sound is quickly becoming passé and tired with its blend of powerhouse guitars, catchy melodies, hip-hop rap, and passionate singing/screaming, Linkin Park is still packing a punch with their audience. They certainly didn’t pioneer the genre, yet their debut, The Hybrid Theory, became the best-selling album of 2001. Most people expected the band’s long-awaited follow-up to do well, but no one expected Meteora to sell more than 800,000 copies in its first week, topping the Billboard album sales chart en route to going platinum.

Linkin Park’s popularity stems not only from their solid, hook-filled sound, but also because of their passion, optimism, and search for spiritual truths. The band has toured with P.O.D. and Project 86, prompting many to wonder if Linkin Park has some tie to Christianity. In an interview with Shoutweb, lead emcee and vocalist Mike Shinoda revealed that he “was raised in a really, really liberal Protestant church. Two of the guys are Jewish. [Sample master] Joe [Hahn] was raised in a little more conservative Christian church and [lead vocalist] Chester Bennington has his own really unique views on religion. In general, we are all over the place.”

Since Mike writes most of the lyrics with Chester, it’s not surprising then that spiritual themes show up. Like their debut, Meteora generally alternates between themes of severing broken relationships and searching for answers. Songs in the first category include “Don’t Stay,” “Faint,” “From the Inside,” and “Hit the Floor.” “Lying From You” can be interpreted on a lot of different levels, though it’s essentially a rejection of living a lie.

Then there are the songs such as “Somewhere I Belong,” the album’s extremely catchy first single-and in some ways a new generation’s version of U2’s “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For.” Excerpted above, the song in one sense extols self-enlightenment. On the other hand, it’s a strong declaration of confession and surrender that easily can be interpreted as a desire to purge our sinful nature: “I will never be anything ’til I break away from me.” Similarly, the beautiful “Easier to Run” seems to convey a struggle with the sins of the past: “Sometimes I think of letting go and never looking back/And never moving forward so there’d never be a past.” The band resolves to make a change with the generically written and uncharacteristically pop-sounding “Breaking the Habit”—”I don’t know how I got this way/I’ll never be alright/So I’m breaking the habit tonight.”

There’s even a bit of spirituality to the album’s title, which refers to a Greek city famed for a cluster of monasteries sitting atop a jagged mountain peak–you may recognize it from the James Bond film For Your Eyes Only. Compared to similar sounding nu-metal acts, Linkin Park is surprisingly clean and cathartic despite the dark themes of their music. In many ways, these guys are as effective as many a rock band on the Christian label Tooth & Nail, conveying tension, hurt, angst, and confession. Linkin Park excels at presenting the questions-questions we all can use to share the Answer with our friends.

Daniel Lanois Shine

(Anti-)Ethereal and eclectic folk pop

“How to navigate, how to simply be/To know when to wait, explain simplicity/In whom shall I trust/And how might I be still/Teach me to surrender/Not my will, Thy will” — from “Falling at Your Feet”

You may never have heard his name (the last name’s French, pronounced “lan-WAH”), but Daniel Lanois was, according to Rolling Stone magazine, the “most important record producer to emerge in the ’80s.” Lanois helmed several of the most seminal pop/rock recordings in the last 20 years-such as U2’s Joshua Tree and Achtung Baby, Peter Gabriel’s So and Us, and Bob Dylan’s Time Out of Mind.

You also may not know that Lanois has released three critically acclaimed solo albums of his own since 1989, including his new release Shine. And chances are you may not know that Daniel is, like his pal Bono of U2, a devout Christian. Raised a French Catholic, all three of his solo albums include strong examples of his beliefs. Is it a coincidence that this famed producer works almost exclusively with such spiritually minded artists?

Shine is an interesting collage of sound, drawing upon folk, pop, jazz, country, and reggae influences. All of it ties together with the ethereal sounds common to Daniel’s work, though the rootsy elements seem stronger now than ever before. Imagine Christian band Lost Dogs or the O Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack crossed with Peter Gabriel, or Blind Boys of Alabama, and you’re on the right track. Half the cuts on Shine are instrumental, carried by Daniel’s newfound love for pedal steel guitar. The other half features his vocals, which resemble Eric Clapton at his most tender (i.e. “Tears in Heaven” or “Wonderful Tonight”).

The album’s first single, “Falling at Your Feet,” a duet with Bono, was originally included on the Million Dollar Hotel soundtrack. Their voices blend together almost seamlessly in what seems to be a song of praise, acknowledging that all creation will one day bow to the sovereignty of the Lord. “I Love You,” featuring harmonies by Emmylou Harris, begins with an illustration condemning those consumed with greed instead of love: “A man carried metal, carried gold/More than he could handle, more than he could hold/It weighed him down to a sand shallow grave/Where his bones were beaten by a heat wave.”

“As Tears Roll By” resembles the work of classic Christian artists such as Gene Eugene or Mike Roe, expressing the heart of one struggling with his sinful nature in a fallen world filled with temptation. That spiritual lamentation continues into “Fire,” pleading for divine intervention. The encouraging and comforting ethereal country of the title track finds Daniel singing about the unfailing presence of a friend, perhaps God: “In the end the thing that keeps them walking is your shine/Your shine when they wear no coat, your shine when the feeling’s low/Your shine when it’s too late to turn around.”

Shine doesn’t explore matters of faith as clearly as Daniel’s previous solo offerings, but it still should resonate with many Christian listeners. Considering the profound influence this man has had on popular music, we should be thankful he’s using his talents to glorify the Lord–both on his own albums and in the artistic endeavors of other spiritually minded songwriters.

AudioslaveAudioslave

(Epic/Interscope)Modern/alternative rock

“In your house I long to be/Room by room patiently/I’ll wait for you there like a stone/I’ll wait for you there alone” — from “Like a Stone”

Audioslave is like a “mash-up” done the old-fashioned way, combining the vocals of one band with the instrumentation of another. In this case, it’s not a matter of digital editing but combining the remnants of two popular bands from the ’90s. Screaming rap-rock band Rage Against the Machine replaced lead vocalist Zack de la Rocha with Chris Cornell of Soundgarden, one of the great rock metal bands from Seattle during the early ’90s grunge movement. The combination works better than anyone expected. Who knew that Rage could tone down enough to play more of a classic hard-rock sound, reminiscent of Led Zeppelin and Queen? How can a band go wrong with one of the best lead vocalists in rock, ranking with the likes of Robert Plant, Freddie Mercury, Sammy Hagar and Gary Cherone?

It’s one of the best rock albums of the last year, but I’m just as impressed that the Rage members turned over all lyrical control to Cornell. Rage Against the Machine has a reputation for bad language and controversial worldwide political causes; you can view them for yourself at www.axisofjustice.com. Cornell, on the other hand, has been known to explore spirituality and Christianity in his lyrics as far back as his days with Soundgarden. His words on Audioslave don’t disappoint, except for the strong rocker “Set it Off,” which drops the f-bomb twice.

The album’s single “Like a Stone” has enough content to warrant its own essay. The chorus (excerpted above) is a strong plea for salvation and to be in God’s presence. No doubt many will be hung up on the lyric, “On my deathbed I will pray to the gods and the angels/Like a pagan to anyone who will take me to heaven.” In the song’s context, however, it seems more like a desperate plea than an actual strategy or worldview, akin to the rich man asking Jesus, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” Chris also qualifies it with the contrite third verse, “And on I read until the day was gone/And I sat in regret of all the things I’ve done/For all that I’ve blessed and all that I’ve wronged.”

It’s not the only faith-inspired track on the album. The prayerful “Show Me How to Live” is fairly self-explanatory: “Nail in my hand from my creator/You gave me life, now show me how to live.” One of the album’s softer tracks, “I Am the Highway,” could be interpreted as what God is and isn’t-present in everything and bigger than we imagine: “I am not your rolling wheels/I am the highway/I am not your carpet ride/I am the sky/I am not your blowing wind/I am the lightning/I am not your autumn moon/I am the night.”

“Exploder” illustrates how spiritual freedom helps us reconcile the hurts of a sinful world, and “Hypnotize” reminds us to show love and compassion to our fellow man. The most stunning example of faith comes in “Light My Way,” which at times rivals most other prayerful anthems you hear in Christian music: “In my hour of need, on a sea of gray/On my knees I pray to you/Help me find the dawn of the dying day/Won’t you light my way.” Some even wonder about the album’s cover, incorporating the band’s logo of a fire blaze. Maybe it’s just my Christian worldview, but it strongly reminds me of an extremely huge representation of Moses and the burning bush.

Cornell is typically reluctant to discuss the inspiration behind his lyrics, though based on the recurring themes found on his albums, it’s pretty safe to say he’s got some kind experience with Christianity. Guitarist Tom Morello refers to the songs as “haunted, existential poetry.” They are indeed vague at times, yet also poetic and inspiring, pointing to a sovereign Creator.

EvanescenceFallen

(Wind-Up)Beautiful and haunting gothic rock

“Wake me up inside/Call my name and save me from the dark/Bid by blood to run before I come undone/Save me from the nothing I’ve become” — from “Bring Me to Life”

Things sometimes have a way of changing quickly. Christian media, radio, and retail went into Gospel Music Week 2003 this past April praising Evanescence as the latest example of a “roaring lamb” in the mainstream music industry. Days later, most of the same people were disappointed with the Arkansas duo due some quotes from them in an Entertainment Weekly interview, causing many to pull their product from store shelves and their hit single “Bring Me to Life” from their radio playlists. Even we at ChristianityToday.com ended up removing our positive review of Evanescence’s national debut, Fallen. Our praise of their artistry remains, but not without some reservations.

Evanescence is one of the latest artist signings and success stories on Wind-Up Records, home to the similarly controversial Creed. At the core of the band is multi-instrumentalist/songwriter Ben Moody and lead vocalist Amy Lee. The two met as teens, gradually developing a band and a following in the underground Christian music scene. For more on their early history and their prior spiritual leanings, I highly recommend this interview with the now defunct Stranger Things magazine.

More than a few have described Evanescence as P.O.D. and Nine Inch Nails if they were fronted by Sarah McLachlan or Enya. As crazy as that sounds, it’s a pretty apt description of the band’s unique and effective blend of punchy hard rock, angst-driven electronica, and haunting ethereal pop. Thanks in part to high-profile soundtrack placement in the film Daredevil, “Bring Me to Life” became a smash hit single, propelling Fallen into the top ten of industry album sales.

Then after two months, the bombshell hit. In an April 15, 2003 interview with Entertainment Weekly, Evanescence emphatically declared they aren’t a Christian band. According to Amy Lee, “There are people hell-bent on the idea that we’re a Christian band in disguise, and that we have some secret message … We have no spiritual affiliation with this music. It’s simply about life experience.” Unfortunately, Ben and Amy used profanity to communicate their request to be removed from Christian bookstores and radio stations. The industry quickly complied.

Evanescence attributes their outspoken spirituality in earlier songs and interviews to “youthful indiscretions,” though they seem to be handling their newfound success with even more immaturity. After all, it was Wind-Up’s decision (with the band’s permission) to shop their music to Christian audiences via radio and retail, not the other way around. Of course, most record labels keep tabs on what is said by their artist in an interview, so it’s not as if they didn’t have a chance to halt or question Evanescence’s comments. Perhaps strangest of all is Moody’s assertion that there is nothing Christian or faith-based about Evanescence’s music: “I’m not ashamed of my spiritual beliefs, but I in no way incorporate them into this band.”

That last quote, combined with the band’s outspoken past, suggests that Moody still has some sort of relationship with Christ. But it seems to contradict the numerous songs on Fallen that are clearly derived from a spiritual worldview. “Bring Me to Life,” as excerpted above, reads as a solid plea for spiritual revival. On the Psalm-like “Tourniquet,” Amy sings, “My God, my tourniquet/Return to me salvation … Am I too lost to be saved?” She later adds, “My wounds cry for the grave/My soul cries for deliverance,” which could perhaps be interpreted as the contrast between death under the law and life under redemption as outlined in the book of Romans. Ben and Amy seem to communicate a life slowly conforming to the image of Christ in “Taking Over Me”: “I believe in you/I’ll give up everything just to find you/I look in the mirror and see your face if I look deep enough/So many things inside that are just like you are taking over.”

Not that all of Evanescence’s songs are spiritually themed, or even neutral towards Christianity for that matter. With all that the band has said in recent interviews, one wonders if “Everybody’s Fool” is an indictment of the church and the Christian faith: “Perfect by nature, icons of self-indulgence/Just what we all need/More lies about a world that never was and never will be … You’re not real and you can’t save me.” In a May 20, 2003 interview with USA Today, Amy issued a flimsy apology and explanation for their comments in Entertainment Weekly: “We certainly don’t want to alienate anybody. If anybody picks up our CD and listens to it and likes it, we love them … So I just hope this whole thing hasn’t made anyone think that we’re against any particular group or anything. That’s the whole point–that it’s for everyone. We don’t want to put it in a box.”

Bands such as Lifehouse and P.O.D. have successfully broadened their audiences into the mainstream without alienating their Christian fan base. Evanescence’s mistake was to cut their ties with the Christian community too suddenly and severely. Yet despite the mixed messages, there’s enough on Fallen for Christians to savor and appreciate, whether such lyrics are intentional on Ben Moody’s part or not. However, because of recent interviews, unsuspecting Christians easily offended by profanity should perhaps steer clear of Evanescence’s concerts since there’s no telling what they will or won’t say. We can only hope that this talented duo will eventually figure out what they’re trying to convey thematically, and we can only pray that such a message will once again involve the Gospel.

Do you have a current “Glimpse of God,” an example of perceived spirituality in popular music? Drop us an e-mail with your suggestion, and we’ll consider it for future editions.

Click here to view Glimpses of God (Vol. 1), featuring 2003 Grammy-Award winners Coldplay and Bruce Springsteen

More examples of the increasing tendency toward spiritual longing in today’s mainstream music—including Daniel Bedingfield, Ben Harper, and popular hits from Train and Live.

We live in strange musical times. In 1984, pop icon Madonna gleefully declared that she was a “Material Girl” living in a material world. Now almost 20 years later, the Material Girl is decrying greed and pleading for family values on her American Life album.

For most artists, songwriting represents a process of personal growth. Albums offer snapshots of an artist’s life: emotionally, socially, and spiritually. The Glimpses of God series was created to call attention to specific examples of mainstream artists exploring subjects of faith. Some are professing Christians approaching their craft outside the gospel music community; others are non-believers searching for answers. All are artists you can pray for and albums you can use as common ground with a non-Christian friend.

Volume 3 of Glimpses presents four examples of acclaimed artists who incorporate Christian themes—intentionally or not—into their songwriting.

TrainMy Private Nation

(Columbia)Classic pop/rock

“I need a sign to let me know you’re here/’Cause my TV set just keeps it all from being clear/I want a reason for the way things have to be/I need a hand to help build up some kind of hope inside of me” — from “Calling All Angels”

For Train founder Patrick Monahan, the rock star lifestyle initially included drug and alcohol abuse. With role models such as Nirvana’s Kurt Cobain and The Beatles, the aspiring artist assumed such vices were necessary to inspire creativity. After years of struggles and frustrations, Monahan eventually changed his way of thinking. He cleaned up his act and left his hometown of Erie, Pennsylvania for San Francisco, where he formed the Grammy Award-winning rock band Train, best known for their smash hit “Drops of Jupiter.”

How things have changed since those wild days of youth. Compared to most pop/rock bands, Train is downright wholesome, espousing themes of commitment and family values along with the typical subjects of romance and life struggles. “I’m a 34-year-old guy,” Monahan said in an interview with Cleveland.com. “I’m not an 18-year-old kid playing punk rock, drinking booze and smoking weed every night. I already did that. That’s not what I want in my life. I want to be a great friend, husband and dad.”

Such sentiments crop up in many of Train’s songs, often autobiographical for Monahan. “I’m About to Come Alive,” from My Private Nation , is a heartfelt outpouring of a man determined to live out his obligations as a loving father and husband. But even more intriguing is Train’s willingness to explore matters of faith. The band’s mainstream hit, “Calling All Angels” (excerpted above) is a response to tragedy and a fallen world, likely inspired in part by the events of 9/11. A song of faith and hope, it can be interpreted in a couple of ways. Monahan told Cleveland.com he didn’t envision angels in a biblical sense, but as a call to action for all of us to practice more random acts of kindness to one another. Either perspective fits in with a Christian worldview.

When Monahan sings “I need a sign,” it’s less an expression of doubt than it is a plea for reassurance-similar to Styx’s 1990 inspirational hit “Show Me the Way.” The line “I won’t give up, if you don’t give up” may simply be intended to encourage peace among the nations, but it might also be viewed as a pledge to a merciful and patient God. Regardless of the multiple takes, there’s little question the song is ultimately directed to God. The video even shows the band treading a bleak wasteland with the heavens eventually opening to shower the world with light.

Another example of faith on My Private Nation can be found in the chorus of “When I Look to the Sky,” which reads like something found on Christian adult contemporary radio: “‘Cause when I look to the sky something tells me you’re here with me/And you make everything alright/And when I feel like I’m lost something tells me you’re here with me/And I can always find my way when you are here.” Though the song is actually about the passing of a loved one and the hope of eternal life beyond this world, it’s still an expression of faith-though faith in what, only Monahan can say.

Train may not be the most obvious example of a “Glimpse of God,” but they are one of the most well-known, thanks in great part to the success of “Calling All Angels,” which at least gets people thinking about faith, hope, and love. That such a song could so easily find a home on mainstream radio is surely an indicator of society’s increasing openness to those themes.

Ben HarperDiamonds on the Inside

(Virgin)Bluesy rock, soul, folk, funk, and reggae

“We long to be a picture of Jesus/In His arms so many prayers rest/I long to be a picture of Jesus/With Him we shall be forever blessed” — from “Picture of Jesus”

This highly acclaimed Californian is steadily gaining the kind of notoriety for which legends are known. Ben Harper’s parents, both musicians, raised him on a variety of styles, and his grandparents run the Folk Music Center near Los Angeles. A skilled songwriter, vocalist, and guitarist, Harper’s instrument of choice is the Weissenborn, a 1920s Hawaiian lap slide guitar.

Best known for his single “Steal My Kisses,” Harper’s highly acclaimed solo debut in 1994 combined a wide range of classic sounds-rock, blues, soul, funk, folk, and reggae. Imagine an impressive hybrid of Lenny Kravitz, Jimi Hendrix, Bob Marley, Prince, Dave Matthews, and Jack Johnson. Harper’s versatility is also evident as a guest artist on Higher Ground, the 2002 album from the Blind Boys of Alabama—a CD which also features the talents of Robert Randolph and the Family Band. Like those two artists, Harper deftly combines a respect for traditional genres, an appreciation for new sounds, and a love for improvisational musicianship with expressions of faith.

On his latest recording, Diamonds on the Inside, Harper and his band, The Innocent Criminals, are joined by Ladysmith Black Mambazo on the a capella “Picture of Jesus,” which sounds like a long-lost cut from Paul Simon’s Graceland. “Picture of Jesus” (excerpted above) is a stunning expression of faith from a so-called mainstream artist.

Inspired by the image of Christ on Corcovado Mountain in Rio, “Blessed to Be a Witness” expresses the Lord’s sustaining power: “So much sorrow and pain/Still I will not live in vain/Like good questions never asked/Is wisdom wasted on the past/Only by the grace of God go I.” The beautifully instrumented “When She Believes” acknowledges God (and Mother Mary) for blessing him with such a wonderful wife. The classic rocker “Everything” can be interpreted as a love letter to his wife or to God: “You’re my first thought in the morning when I rise/You’re my last thought in the evening when I rest my head at night/You mean everything to me.”

Faith is a regular subject in Harper’s work, but his private life is another matter. He has been known to smoke marijuana, and his music sometimes includes racy themes of “sexual healing.” Perhaps he’s since grown out of those tendencies, now that he’s a family man. And in interviews, he regularly calls himself a “believer” to whom faith is important. Are these spiritual references in Harper’s songs sincere or are they simply done for style? There are many conflicting factors at work concerning Ben Harper, so it’s probably best to take Diamonds on the Inside at face value—a delightful crossroads of musical styles that offers some seemingly well-intentioned declarations of faith.

LiveBirds of Pray

(Radioactive)Anthemic alternative rock

“I don’t need no one to tell me about heaven/I look at my daughter and I believe/I don’t need no proof when it comes to God and truth/I can see the sunset and I perceive” — from “Heaven”

In a sense, Live is to mainstream music what The Matrix is to the movie industry. Like the films, Live combines loud bombast with striking beauty. The band also boasts big-budget polish and production, due especially to the mixing talents of the great knob-twirler Tom Lord-Alge. Most analogous of all, Live presents a hodgepodge of spiritual beliefs like The Matrix films, with songs that explore Christian themes from time to time.

Together for more than 15 years, Live’s quest for faith and truth is fascinating. Though lead singer and lyricist Ed Kowalczyk apparently grew up in a Christian home, he came to resent the religion in the years leading to the formation of Live. With the band’s 1991 debut Mental Jewelry, based on the writings of Indian philosopher Jiddu Krishnamurti, Kowalczyk-who had apparently embraced Eastern religion-blasted Christianity in the song, “Operation Spirit (The Tyranny of Tradition).”

Rejecting Christianity would not prove permanent, however. The band’s 1994 breakthrough sophomore effort, Throwing Copper, marked a seemingly reluctant return to Christian imagery, though offering a few mixed messages in the process-the cover art is an indictment of Christians too pious to show love and compassion. Not until Live’s fourth album, 1999’s The Distance to Here, was there a seemingly dramatic turnaround in Kowalczyk’s beliefs. “Where Fishes Go” is a solid illustration of evangelism, “Run to the Water” a powerful testament of grace and renewal, and “Dance with You” is virtually a prayer of thanks and surrender. Such themes continued to a lesser extent into Live’s fifth effort, 2001’s V, with such faith-based songs as “Hero of Love” and “Call Me a Fool.”

Live’s latest, Birds of Pray, isn’t quite as faith-focused as the title might imply, but there are some interesting glimpses of faith. “Heaven,” excerpted above, is the album’s first single and was inspired by the birth of Kowalczyk’s daughter. Though some may react to such sentiments as New Age treacle, the additional lyrics suggest a faith strengthened by the evidence of God in creation. In the idealistic (and rather confusing) “The Sanctity of Dreams,” Kowalczyk may be hinting at the miracle of Christ’s resurrection: “I dream of love and of the empty graveyard.” On “What Are We Fighting For?” he uses Christian imagery to decry war: “The crucifix ain’t no baseball bat/Tell me what kind of God is that?/Ain’t nothing more godless than a war/So what are we fighting for?”

Sensitive listeners beware: Live uses several profanities on each of their albums. They also regularly return to a theme of sexuality—sometimes treated crudely, sometimes with reverence. Birds of Pray may not offer nearly as much spiritual nourishment as The Distance to Here, but if you’re looking for songs addressing issues of faith, this is a band to pay attention to. Live’s inclination toward exploring spiritual themes has consistently earned them comparisons to U2. It will be interesting to see if their spiritual journey leads them to a point of fully embracing and clearly communicating the gospel.

Daniel BedingfieldGotta Get Thru This

(Island)Programmed Euro pop/R&B

“If only I can get thru this/God, God, gotta help me get thru this” — from “Gotta Get Thru This”

Born in New Zealand and raised in London, 22-year-old Daniel Bedingfield is quickly gaining attention as a production wunderkind. It would be tempting to write him off as the Euro pop equivalent to Justin Timberlake or Aaron Carter, though his sound more resembles pop groups such as Take That and Boyzone. The reality, however, is that he’s too talented for such teen pop comparisons.

Bridging together elements of pop, rock, R&B, and dance, Bedingfield doesn’t just write and sing his own material, which is already a step ahead of most teen pop artists. He also records it all in his bedroom with a computer and a microphone, playing most of the instruments himself and tweaking the mix later in a professional recording studio. It sounds terrific (testament to today’s technology) and it’s earned him deserved comparisons to George Michael, Stevie Wonder, Craig David, and Michael Jackson. Bedingfield even pressed and distributed the original CDs of his song “Gotta Get Thru This,” a dance-pop hit in clubs on both sides of the Atlantic.

Turns out that Bedingfield’s also an outspoken Christian. Depending which bio you read, his parents are either missionaries or social workers. He openly shares his faith in concerts and in some of his music. For example, “Gotta Get Thru This” is essentially a plea to cope with a first-time crush. Okay, so the only spiritual line in the song (excerpted above) is a bit of a stretch. There are still a handful of sweet, unrequited love songs showing remarkable wholesomeness and maturity concerning romance-including two with references to prayer: “If You’re Not the One” (“I pray you’re the one I build my home with”) and “Without the Girl” (“Heaven knows everyday I pray that someday she will belong to me”).

Of course, he’s not the first mainstream artist to pray for perfect love. Christian listeners are bound to be more impressed with “Blown It Again,” which initially seems like a song of reconciliation between friends. It is, but chances are he’s referring to a more long-time and heavenly friend: “Diggin’ up the heart within me/Dismay is the only feeling I see/I have to say my heart ain’t what it could be … You can’t live a life if you don’t ask why/Such a thing as too much information/Trapped inside this condemnation/I could’ve told you all my fears all those years/Now I’m ashamed of my ways.”

Then there’s the gentle acoustic “Honest Questions,” which seems inspired by Psalm 63 and/or Isaiah 35. It’s stunning to hear a song this faith-based on a mainstream release: “Oh look down and see the tears I’ve cried, the lives I’ve lived, the deaths I’ve died/You died them too, and all for me/You say, ‘I will pour my water down upon a thirsty barren land/And streams will flow from the dust of your bruised and broken soul.'”

Most of Gotta Get Thru This is best described as irresistible romantic dance-pop fluff. Especially fun are the infectious dance pop/rock of “Girlfriend” and “Inflate My Ego” (which incorporates Henry Mancini’s well-known “Peter Gunn Theme”). Christian listeners will rejoice more in the knowledge that the album is “utterly and completely dedicated to the creator, Yahweh” and that Bedingfield points “with [his] broken fingers toward the only safety I know-greater love hath no man than he …” (both indicated in the liner notes). I get the feeling we’ll be hearing more from Daniel Bedingfield inside and outside of Christian music.

Do you have a current “Glimpse of God,” an example of perceived spirituality in popular music? Drop us an e-mail with your suggestion, and we’ll consider it for future editions.

Glimpses of God (Vol. 1), featuring 2003 Grammy-Award winners Coldplay and Bruce Springsteen.

Glimpses of God (Vol. 2), featuring best-sellers Linkin Park and Evanescence.

A special American folk edition of our popular series exploring the spirituality found in today’s mainstream music—featuring powerful new releases from Over the Rhine, eastmountainsouth, 16 Horsepower, and Rosie Thomas.

A funny thing happened when compiling the artists for this latest edition of Glimpses of God. Though all four artists are different stylistically, they’re all profoundly influenced by American folk music. What’s more, at least three of these artists are as vocal about their faith as any Christian artist, though not necessarily in their music. But the best part? Despite—or perhaps because of—their provocative expressions of faith, all four artists have been very well received by the music industry as a whole.

Over the RhineOhio

(Back Porch/Virgin)Sophisticated country/folk/pop

“I wanna do better/I wanna try harder/I wanna believe down to the letter/Jesus and Mary, can you carry us across this ocean into the arms of forgiveness?” — from “Long Lost Brother”

Over the Rhine could be the most acclaimed “Christian artist” you’ve never heard of. Operating very much at an underground, grassroots level, the husband-wife duo of Linford Detweiler and Karin Bergquist have earned loyal followings in mainstream and Christian circles (though you won’t likely find their music in Christian bookstores). They’ve opened for the Cowboy Junkies and played in bars, but they’ve also played the Cornerstone music festival and at Christian colleges. They were also featured on Squint’s 2000 tribute album to Roaring Lamb artists.

Ohio, the duo’s 10th album, is a 2-disc, 21-song career-defining masterpiece—their “White Album,” if you will. Sort of a mix of Sixpence None the Richer, Sarah McLachlan, and Lucinda Williams, Over the Rhine has masterfully blended sophisticated pop with folk, country, and gospel on Ohio. Weaving together an array of folk instruments, the typically mellow duo keeps things impressively eclectic for 90 minutes of music. Bergquist, widely regarded as one of the finest vocalists alive, is dynamic throughout, and both she and Detweiler (who offers some of his richest piano work to date) paint each song differently through the emotions of the lyrics and melodies.

Over the Rhine isn’t overtly Christian in their music, but the foundation is clearly there. They won’t preach at you or necessarily even point you in the right direction, but they will offer you a fascinatingly poetic faith-based perspective. Part of the joy is discovering what their music means to you personally, but Ohio is perhaps their most spiritually expressive album yet, loosely tied together by themes centered on the lifelong journey to return home. “What I’ll Remember Most” expresses the duality of human nature (“You are eighty percent angel, ten percent demon, the rest is hard to explain”), while “Anything at All” borrows from the book of Romans: “Sooner or later, things will all come around for good.”

There’s only one reason (one word really) why Ohio hasn’t been featured in our regular review coverage. Impassioned by the events in the Middle East and the fear of bringing a child into a fallen world, Bergquist uses one profanity in “Changes Come.” Similar in tone to U2’s “Wake Up, Dead Man,” the bluesy lament pleads for Christ’s return: “Changes come/Turn my world around … Jesus come/Bring the whole thing down … There is all this untouched beauty/The light the dark both running through me/Is there still redemption for anyone?” Similar emotions are expressed in “Long Lost Brother” (excerpted above), as well as the hidden track “Idea #21 (Not Too Late),” as Bergquist continually asks “how long” before all thing are made new.

Detweiler, the son of a minister, sees an intrinsic link between faith and art. “[Musician] Jane Siberry once said that all art was a form of prayer. I tend to agree. The music on Ohio is rooted in the gospel music we grew up with, but it’s also splattered with the mud of real, everyday life. I feel a connection between many of the songs that tend to show up in my notebook and the Psalms that have woven themselves into the fabric of the faith. The Psalmist was all over the map—jubilant, thankful, unstoppable as well as pissed off, confused and downright glum. The Psalmist struggled with forgiveness, the tendency to want to hold a grudge, the desire to see one’s enemies fry. But they are ultimately hopeful. I love how human the Psalms feel, and I hope our music feels much the same way—very human.”

Human indeed, Ohio is one of 2003’s most richly rewarding albums, sacred or secular.

16 HorsepowerOlden

(Jetset)“Country gothic”

“He’s taken our stripes on his back on down to here/I cannot walk if you did not walk/I cannot breathe if you did not breathe” — from “Pure Clob Road”

The term “alternative” has long been overused to describe music, but Webster could well include 16 Horsepower in his definition. Multi-instrumentalist David E. Edwards formed the band in 1992, later signing with A&M in 1995 for their first EP. Their latest project, Olden, covers those three years, 1992-95. Consisting of two parts early demos and one part early live tracks, the album is intended for devout fans, but also serves as a fair introduction to a unique sounding band. Most of the material can be found on two of 16 Horsepower’s most acclaimed albums, Low Estate and Sackcloth ‘n’ Ashes.

Many have described the music as “country gothic” and “alternative folk.” Edwards and company combine the folk/country instrumentation with dark and brooding melodies, akin to the Violent Femmes or, oddly enough, Radiohead if they went Americana. Edwards’s despairing cracked tenor sounds like Bill Mallonee (Vigilantes of Love) crossed with Thom Yorke (Radiohead). You know you’re in for something unusual when the album opens with a distorted mouth harp and Edwards’s trademark bandoneon (similar to an accordion) on “American Wheeze.”

16 Horsepower’s audience is primarily secular, yet many of its lyrics are inspired by Scripture. The band hasn’t really impacted Christian media and retail, but Edwards, the grandson of a Nazarene preacher and raised Baptist, did play at the 2002 Cornerstone Christian music festival with his side band, Woven Hand.

He’s certainly not shy about his faith, saying, “I am a Christian. God the Father is everything to me. I can do nothing worth anything without him. The music I make is given to me to make for him—for his glory, for his honor, and for all who hear it. For he loves all, and has sent his Son for all to be reconciled to him. He and the things of him—his Word, his Spirit, his grace and rod—are my inspiration. Nothing else.”

So why isn’t 16 Horsepower bigger in Christian music? They’re the sonic opposite of what you normally hear on AC pop radio, with several songs that seem to wrestle with resisting temptation, often resorting to the fervor of a religious fanatic. Like the most cryptic Beatles songs, Edwards seems to be more about emotion than message, coloring his music with religious imagery and Scriptural quotes. It’s not exactly uplifting music with its haunting sounds and dark lyrics—including a couple of profanities on Olden.

My favorite lyric on the album comes from “Pure Clob Road” (excerpted above), with Edwards testifying to Christ’s redemptive sacrifice. He paints a picture of Judgment Day using a two-step polka-rock in “Coal Black Horses,” singing, “The sky will open up an’ an angel blow his horn/An’ down come Jesus lookin’ so fine.” In the rockabilly flavored “My Narrow Mind,” Edwards confesses, “Wicked, wicked from the mouth I spout/O Lord, don’ let these thoughts come out.” And with the country rock of “Shametown,” Edwards shares the hope we have through Jesus: “Today is the day of salvation/Ain’t gonna tell no lie/Some through the water, some through the flood/Some by the fire, but all through his blood.”

Some might see 16 Horsepower’s music as weird and bizarre, or as a truly innovative spin on traditional gospel and spirituals. But say this much for 16 Horsepower—there’s absolutely nothing quite like them.

eastmountainsoutheastmountainsouth

(DreamWorks)Modern folk-pop

“Dark clouds a’risin’/Thunder bolts a’rollin’/Master Jesus ridin’ around/With a rainbow ’round his shoulders/Seek on, oh, seeker/Come go to glory with me/And you shall wear a starry crown/Come join the band of angels” — from “Rain Come Down”

Kat Maslich and Peter Adams—the duo known as eastmountainsouth—are multi-talented singer/songwriters who both hail from the South and met in Los Angeles. Maslich comes from a musical family in Virginia where her mother, a retired music teacher, regularly performed in church. Though Kat played in some hardcore bands as a teen, she maintained a love for bluegrass. At 21, she moved to L.A. to pursue a music career. Taking odd jobs to support her endeavor—including hairstylist and (brace yourself) porn store employee—Maslich struck out musically and considered returning to Virginia like a Prodigal Daughter.

Enter Alabama-raised Peter Adams, also from a musical family. Adams studied piano and keyboard from an early age, leading to competitions and advanced studies as an undergrad and at the post-graduate level, even studying abroad in Germany. On the side, Adams played in an R&B band. Unsure of his future as a music scholar, he moved to L.A. to study film scoring, eventually meeting Maslich and discovering that their voices and musical tastes blended extremely well.

The result is an intriguing mix of folk/bluegrass with some decidedly modern production. Imagine if the O Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack was produced by Peter Gabriel, or if Cliff and Danielle Young (Caedmon’s Call) released an edgy folk-pop project. Fans of Rickie Lee Jones, Nickel Creek, and Over the Rhine are sure to eat this up. The great Robbie Robertson also liked what he heard, enough to help sign them to DreamWorks. The self-titled debut was recorded at the project studio of whiz producer Mitchell Froom (Elvis Costello, Los Lobos, Crowded House).

The album opens with Stephen Foster’s classic “Hard Times,” covered by many Christian folk and gospel artists over the years. An expression of our need for God’s grace and mercy, the arrangement features acoustic and electric guitars, fiddle, mandola, and harmonium, mixed into something altogether modern. “Still Runnin,” inspired by Annie Dillard’s essay “God in the Doorway,” has Maslich singing, “For you meant only love and love, and I felt only fear and pain/So once in Israel love came, and we were all afraid.” Then comes “All the Stars,” a tribute to a deceased loved one that could be interpreted as a nod to Christ’s sacrifice.

Another highlight is “Show Me the River,” a plaintive cry of homesickness and confession that resembles the work of Caedmon’s Call: “I’ve been a traveler of far away lands/I’ve got love on my mind, but death on these hands/Come homeward angel, show me the way/Or will fate leave me dead in the tracks where I lay?” Based on a traditional folk song, “Rain Come Down” (excerpted above) offers the most clear-cut example of spirituality, and “Mark’s Song” offers a bittersweet benediction to a lost loved one: “There’s no more harm in your savior’s arms/See you fly away in the sky/Did you hear the call of angels one and all/May you find your way in peace.”

Gospel is historically intertwined with American folk and bluegrass, so it’s hard to tell if these songs are personal to Maslich and Adams. Many artists sing gospel more for the sake of history and nostalgia rather than as a personal expression of faith. Nevertheless, Maslich and Adams apparently come from religious families, and they now sing songs sprinkled with Christianity. For believers, eastmountainsouth offers plenty to savor.

Rosie ThomasOnly With Laughter Can You Win

(Sub-Pop)Quiet, contemplative folk-pop

“How am I to define what faith is to a child when the only explanation lies within?/How am I to tell them if they never follow Christ that heaven doesn’t hold a place for them?/Tell me how when I’m no better than them?” — from “Tell Me How”

There’s a lot of sweetness permeating Rosie Thomas’s personality and music. She regularly incorporates family and faith into her words. She also has a silly sense of humor, partly expressed in the title of her new release, as well as through her comedic alter ego “Sheila,” a pizza delivery woman with Coke-bottle glasses, an arm sling and a neck brace—reminiscent of Gilda Radner and Andy Kaufman. In concert, you’re bound to see both sides of Thomas.

She also has a sweet naïveté about the Christian music industry (though she did briefly sing with Christian alternative pop band Velour 100) and perhaps that’s been for the best. Focusing on the music business at large has afforded Thomas some incredible opportunities and much acclaim from media and audiences alike. Her 2002 debut, When We Were Small, earned strong endorsements from Entertainment Weekly, Billboard, and NPR to name a few.

So it’s time for Christians to become acquainted with this talented and devout songwriter. Raised by a musical family in Detroit, Thomas learned piano and guitar early, performing with her parents and siblings at social functions. Though raised in a Christian home, her faith didn’t catch fire till she was 20, when she attended California’s Calvary Chapel Bible College for a year.

That was five years ago. Since then, Thomas has regularly sought God’s will. She went on to Cornish College, a performance arts school in Seattle, where she developed her loves for music, theater, and comedy. She never finished, however, since her music career took off and she signed with Sub-Pop to release her first album.

The new album title not only reflects Thomas’ outlook, but as a lyric from the Joni Mitchell song “Roses Blue,” it reveals her chief musical influence. One could also compare her to Sarah McLachlan, Sara Groves, and Ani DiFranco because of her beautifully angelic folk voice. Her delicate folk-pop is also rich in vocal harmonies, sometimes relying on multi-tracking her own voice, and in other cases employing the talents of her family. Her mother sings along on the reverberation-drenched opener, “Let Myself Fall,” recorded in Detroit’s oldest church.

Most of the songs center around themes of life’s uncertainties and growing older, alluding to the importance of love and family. In “You and Me,” she credits her mother for helping her understand God’s love, and does the same for her boyfriend in “All My Life.” With “One More Day,” Thomas offers hope to a hurting friend. Her whole family contributes to “I Play Music,” recorded at her father’s house, which chronicles her journey into adulthood: “When I was young, I did it my way/I did it my way and I still do/Held my head up high/Asking God for answers and begging him to tell me what to do.” The song also points to God’s impact on her life: “Never thought that I would ever find you/Or that you’d be looking for me too.”

But perhaps the album’s most challenging track is the Joni Mitchell-styled “Tell Me How” (excerpted above). Some might think Thomas is questioning her faith, when she’s really just asking the hard questions, expressing unworthiness and uncertainty about being a light unto the world. But there’s no doubting Thomas’s beliefs. In a recent interview, she told us that when she writes songs, “The most important thing to me is to write what God puts on my heart and to leave hope in it. I try to make [my songs] like conversation pieces, going through the sorrow to find the bright side, to encourage people to run the race and that everything will turn out all right. It’s really all about hope through faith, the foundation of what I do.”

Do you have a current “Glimpse of God,” an example of perceived spirituality in popular music? Drop us an e-mail with your suggestion, and we’ll consider it for future editions.

Glimpses of God (Vol. 1), featuring 2003 Grammy-Award winners Coldplay and Bruce Springsteen.

Glimpses of God (Vol. 2), featuring best-sellers Linkin Park and Evanescence.

Glimpses of God (Vol. 3), featuring Train, Live, and Daniel Bedingfield.

Pastor Joe told the youth minister, “Don’t take Heather on the youth trip. She’s not a suitable chaperone.” Heather Jones was only two years older than most of the kids in the group. Her younger sister, Kaitlyn, a high school freshman, would be going on the trip, and the girls didn’t get along. And Joe had heard that since Heather had left for college, she had not exhibited the highest moral standards.

When the youth minister, Thad, a seminary student, first joined the staff, Joe had one request: “Please don’t date members of the youth staff. In our experience, working relationships get sticky when things break up.”

Thad agreed, but later he questioned the pastor’s request about Heather.

“I’ve heard some things that make me uncomfortable, and I’d rather not discuss them,” Joe explained to Thad. “And besides, it doesn’t look good for a single man and woman to be the only adults on a youth trip.”

The day before the trip, Heather’s father called. “Joe, it’s okay with us for Heather to chaperone the youth trip. We talked with Kaitlyn, and she’s fine with it, too.” Mr. Jones seemed to be speaking not just as Heather’s father. He was also the chairman of the personnel committee, and appeared blissfully ignorant about the temptation such a trip posed.

Later, Thad complained, “There was no one else to ask.” Joe relented.

When the group returned from their retreat, Kaitlyn approached Pastor Joe. “My parents don’t know this, but while the youth were at the beach, Thad and my sister disappeared for two hours. I think they’re, well, involved.”

Thad admits he’s seeing Heather, but denies they’ve done anything wrong. Joe recommends to Thad that he look for another ministry position, and thereby avoid the embarrassment of a meeting with the personnel committee and Heather’s father.

Soon, Joe hears rumors that he, the pastor, is pushing the youth minister out, and the youth parents are taking sides.

Question: What should Joe do now? To whom, if anyone, should Joe reveal the reason he asked Thad to leave?

Erwin Lutzer: It’s very important, given what happened, for the elders to know. This gets sticky since Heather is the daughter of an elder. But Pastor Joe must tell the elders.

He must privately say to Heather’s dad: “Look, whether you agree with me about Thad and Heather seeing each other or not, we can’t have a youth director going off with a girl for two hours and nobody knowing where they are. This is not a criticism of Heather. Thad disregarded what I said. He disobeyed my clear instruction, and he showed poor judgment on the trip.” That’s the issue the elder board has to discuss. This is not about Heather; this is about Thad.

Personally, in light of the facts here, I think Thad might have to be dismissed, but you work through the process. If you can get an elder board to form a consensus, it takes a tremendous amount of heat off the pastor.

Stanley Grenz: Pastor Joe and Thad need to clarify their relationship.

First, there’s a question as to the lines of accountability. Thad needs to know, Who am I working for? Perhaps Thad thinks, Well, I’m working for the elders. And her dad said I could take her.

In addition, the relationship Joe and Thad have now is one of a person who is commanding, who is responsible for boundaries, and a young guy who doesn’t like boundaries and doesn’t like somebody setting them for him. That is the wrong relationship.

Had it been a mentoring relationship, there would be hope. Pastor Joe could come alongside and say, “You’re a promising young man. I think God has great things in store for you. There are just some things that we can learn together that will help you, that will spare you, perhaps, a lot of heartache.”

If they can reestablish that kind of relationship, they might be able to pull this thing off without Thad needing to leave. If they can’t, there’s no hope.

David Handley: It’s absolutely essential that Kaitlyn, the whistle blower, be rewarded and not punished. She needs to see that her disclosure was taken seriously. And her confidentiality needs to be protected.

Heather needs to be protected in the same way. Whatever Heather may or may not have done at college is not relevant here. Thad’s behavior is the issue, not Heather’s.

Copyright © 2003 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal.Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.

The Conviction of Things Not Seenby Todd E. Johnson, ed.(Brazos, 2002)

The best way to reach postmoderns may be to return to a simpler time. Not the 1950s. More like the premodern church era.

That’s a common theme in this collection of essays in tribute to Robert Webber, college professor and founder of the Institute for Worship Studies. Webber has contributed to our understanding of worship as it is affected by postmodernism, something more resembling the first century than the twenty-first century. While the chapters read like treatises for a journal of higher education, within each essay we find a simple appreciation and admiration of Webber.

“In his most recent work (Ancient-Future Faith, Baker, 1999) he defines the threefold mission of the church as evangelism, education, and making an impact on the world. This threefold mission has further implications for the church of the postmodern era,” writes Dennis Okholm, Webber’s colleague at Wheaton College. “We come back to where we started—namely, Webber’s recognition of postmodernism’s receptive bent toward classical Christianity’s understanding of worship, his unwillingness to allow reason to dominate over mystery, or verbal communication over the symbolic.”

Mary E. Hess says postmoderns must be taught a new (old) language: “A generation of people socialized within a mass-mediated popular culture, in which explicitly theological language is often represented as belonging only to vehement fundamentalists, must now find ways to reclaim explicitly theological language that has resonance with their own experiences.”

Constance M. Cherry, who is on the faculty at Webber’s Institute and is executive director of worship and music at First Presbyterian Church in Hollywood, California, says the church is in an age of disorientation regarding worship. “The longer the church stays fixated on style-driven worship and the longer it ignores the implications of postmodernism, the longer the period of disorientation will be.”

Befitting a man raised a fundamentalist Baptist who became an Episcopalian, the essayists cover a broad theological spectrum and a range of issues, including denominations, multiethnic churches, and the future of evangelism in this new era.

Bob GordonCharlotte, North Carolina

A Is for Abductive: The Language of the Emerging Churchby Leonard Sweet, Brian McLaren, and Jerry Haselmayer(Zondervan, 2002)

Three forward thinkers offer vocabulary lessons. Author Leonard Sweet, Washington D.C. pastor Brian McLaren, and consultant Jerry Haselmayer have written a primer for Christian leaders puzzled about postmodernism. Some of the “language of the emerging church” examines current terms and concepts, some of it is of their own making—like “abductive.”

As society shifts to experientialism, this “postmodern encyclopedia” is designed to help Christian leaders make the shift, too. Forget deductive reasoning. Even inductive logic is out. By abductive reasoning, the authors say, we “seize people by the imagination and transport them from their current world to another world, where they gain a new perspective.”

Carmen DiCelloPottsville, Pennsylvania

Jim Cymbala’s Prayer List

From the Top 25 books that have influenced his ministry, the pastor of Brooklyn Tabernacle recommends these works on prayer and people of prayer.

The Life and Diary of David Brainerdby David Brainerd (Baker)

The Person and Work of the Holy Spiritby R. A. Torrey (Spring Arbor/Zondervan)

The Autobiography of George Mullerby George Muller (Anchor House)

Daniel Nash: Prevailing Prince of Prayerby J. Paul Reno (Revival Literature)

Humilityby Andrew Murray (Anchor House)

E. M. Bounds—Man of Prayerby L. Dorsett (CLC)

The Path of Prayerby Samuel Chadwick (CLC)

Copyright © 2003 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal.Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.

Allen Smith* led one of the fastest-growing, most exciting churches in the Philadelphia* suburbs. He boasted several degrees and awards, including master’s degrees and a doctoral degree in clinical psychology from Yale. He was trusted, respected, and widely admired.

When I became his associate at Faith Church, I gained a share in his success: ordination, a nice salary and title, a good reputation, and membership on an elite staff of ten. Five years later, however, our church of cards came tumbling down.

One church member, Doug Creek, had a son who wanted to pursue a graduate degree. While sorting through school catalogues, the young man said to his father, “I don’t know which of these schools to apply to, Dad.”

Doug remembered Allen’s Ivy League credentials. “Why don’t you apply to Yale,” Doug answered, “where Pastor Smith went.”

“No, Dad,” his son answered, not realizing the impact his words would have. “Yale doesn’t offer a Ph.D. in clinical psychology.”

The accusations of deceit against our senior pastor soon splintered Faith Church into three groups—one loyal to Allen, one opposed to him, and one group caught in the crossfire. The war eventually involved the media, the courts, harassing phone calls, and mail fraud.

From the moment Doug accused Pastor Smith of fraud, I found myself facing a series of painful and difficult questions. How should a staff member handle accusations against our senior pastor? How do I cope if the accusers begin to throw mud at everybody? How could I, the new de facto staff leader, shepherd a divided church? What about the media? The money? The lawsuits?

Now, nearly 20 years later, I realize some of the decisions I made were right. Others I regret. I’m thankful, though, that in the long line of ethical dilemmas I faced, at least the first decision I made was on the right track.

The cards collapse

Doug called Yale. The school had no record of Allen Smith. Doug requested they express mail a letter stating they had no information about Allen. Then Doug set up a meeting to confront Allen privately, but Allen didn’t show up. So Doug shared his discovery with two of the church’s elders. Then the two elders knocked on my door.

As I heard the story, at first I doubted it. Doug was aligned with the historic “old guard” of Faith Church, a group that was already upset with Allen over changes in the church. Even if Doug’s accusation was true,

I questioned his motives.

At the same time, however, I trusted the judgment of these two elders. They felt there was sufficient evidence to confront Allen, and they asked me how it should be done.

Matthew 18 establishes a three-step process for confronting “a brother who sins against you.” The first step is a private confrontation, which Doug attempted to do, to no avail. The second step is confrontation by a small group.

For example, when confronting an elder,

1 Timothy 5:19 instructs us not to “accept an accusation” without two or three witnesses. Since Doug and the two elders were bringing the accusation, I agreed to serve as a witness, to test the first-hand evidence. I also called another associate pastor, John, and asked him to be a witness.

My refusal to join blindly either with the accusers or with the accused enabled me to lead with some objectivity in the trying times that followed. Although I would be caught in the crossfire, I did not, from the outset, side with any of the three emerging factions. That instinct was my first right decision.

I made an appointment through Allen’s secretary for seven o’clock that evening and instructed her to put a sealed note on Allen’s door informing him that I would be coming and bringing a few others with me.

“I think he’s lying”

Six of us shuffled into Allen’s study—three pastors, two elders, and Doug.

“Pastor Smith,” I began, “an allegation came to my attention today, and I thought it should come straight to you.” Then I deferred to the senior of the two elders. Nervously, he summarized what had been discovered, and what had been done so far.

Allen cut the elder off. He swiveled his head to me and looked me in the eye. “I don’t have to take this; we’ll just take our people and go!” Then he nodded to me, looking for my assent.

Allen was intelligent, innovative, and the only pastor I had ever served under in a paid position. I was happy when he invited me to join his staff, and impressed with him personally. Under his leadership the church had grown. So had I.

Now he was asking me to go with him.

“No,” I replied, “not until this is resolved.”

Without missing a beat, he turned to the newer associate, John, and repeated: “I don’t have to take this; we’ll just take our people and go!”

“Yes, sir,” John answered, “we will!”

Now the room was polarized—Doug and the elders on one side of this issue, Allen and John on the other.

“Pastor,” I said, “even if these accusations are false, and even if you do move on to something else, we need to address this issue of integrity. Who was on your dissertation committee at Yale? We could call them right now.” I stood up and pointed to four books on his shelf. “These are the books you told me you use to teach the pastoral psychology course at the seminary. Who did you teach

for there? They could vouch for your credentials.”

I even offered, “Pastor, we could get in the car and drive to New Haven; we’d be there in the morning, and we could sort this out.”

His answers came slowly. In response to the dissertation committee question, he scanned his diplomas. Barely above a whisper he said, “Well, there’s the dean, but he’s in Sweden right now.” He labored over to a shelf and pulled down his dissertation, flipped it open, and began reading names. He sounded like he was reading the obituaries of strangers. When we offered to call one of them, he shook his head. He seemed to be dying right in front of us.

I proposed a course of action. “Pastor, an accusation has come up tonight, and you claim it’s false. You offered to resign, but I don’t think we should accept your resignation like this. If you are going to resign, you should do so to the whole board of elders and explain why—especially if you’re innocent.

“When my class at college is over in the morning, I’ll go to the library. I’ll look at ‘Dissertations in Print.’ I’ll know immediately whether you wrote that dissertation. We’ll meet here tomorrow night with the whole board to decide where to go from there.”

With that, the meeting disbanded.

I was in the final weeks of my own doctoral studies, and I couldn’t believe Allen didn’t know his dissertation committee members by heart. That night, lying in bed, I told my wife, “I think he’s lying.”

White coat deception

My research at the library found no evidence to support Allen’s story. There was no record of his dissertation. Within a week, the staff and elders confirmed that all three of Allen’s graduate degrees were forgeries, and his undergraduate training and ordination had been seriously exaggerated.

Over the years, Allen had staged an elaborate ruse: He wore a white lab coat and told us about his emergency calls at local psychiatric hospitals. He took time off for continuing education classes that he apparently never attended. He collected fees from his “patients” and was later tried and convicted of practicing psychology without a license. Only now was the picture emerging.

When I pulled up to the church on Saturday evening for the elders meeting, I was met by a group of angry people in the lobby. These were not the elders; they were the “old guard,” people upset with Allen long before this crisis. I presumed Doug had called in his allies. Nearly 100 people were inside, fuming.

Someone said to me, “Harry, if he has fake credentials, don’t you think people will question yours as well?”

He was right. It wasn’t just Allen’s integrity that was in question now, but that of every staff member.

“Regardless of the outcome,” I replied, “whether Allen’s are proven true or false, we will need to get a notarized transcript for each staff person for each credential.”

I remember standing in the church lobby, being fried by critics. I groped for words, trying to defend the process of investigation and the elders’ authority.

I was hoping to silence some of the critics, but it was a mistake. I sounded like I was trying to defend myself and my boss. Even when I landed my intellectual punches, it only angered my opponents and entrenched my supporters.

Rather than defusing the situation, I inadvertently made it more explosive. I have since learned, especially when faced with an accusation, to pray more and talk less.

Allen had urged the church in what would be his last sermon to pray and fast “that sin would be revealed in the church.” To the staff, it was clear that he was alluding to some critics in the congregation. Instead, six days later, his sin had been revealed, and the game was over.

So heated was the atmosphere at the church that night that the elders moved their meeting to a nearby residence. Since the private confrontation from Matthew 18 had been thwarted by Allen’s refusal to show up, and the plural confrontation had failed to produce resolution, we moved to a public confrontation before the elder board. When the evidence of his deception was presented, Allen resigned without protest, effective immediately.

For the record, I restated his position: “So, Pastor, you’re saying that all of your academic credentials are authentic, and that these are false accusations?”

“Yes,” he answered definitively. “Yes!”

The following day, Sunday, Allen gave a tearful farewell, but admitted to nothing. People were invited to say farewell if they wished. Only too late did I realize that by giving Allen the opportunity to speak to the congregation, we were allowing him to draw out a faction of loyal followers, swayed by the emotional power of the moment.

Later Allen told anyone who would listen, “I paid my money. I went to class. If I was scammed by somebody who took my money and claimed to register me for classes, that’s on them. I did nothing wrong.” Many people believed him, and that story became their banner in the propaganda war.

A ploy named sue

In addition to accepting Allen’s resignation, the elders made two more important decisions on Saturday night. First, I would manage the paid staff for the time being. Second, Allen and his family would be given three months’ salary and benefits, including permission to live in the parsonage for those 90 days.

But Allen’s enemies suspected the ousted pastor would be running the church through his puppet associates, John and me. Ninety days in the parsonage was proof, they reasoned, so the old guard launched an offensive.

They sued the church, each of the pastors, and all the elders for charges such as fraud, conspiracy, and breach of fiduciary duties. The multi-million dollar lawsuit sought to dissolve the church corporation and to collect damages from each of the pastors and elders.

And they spread the news of Allen’s fraud to the media—from Christian radio to the major newspapers.

Over the nearly six months that followed, all the pastors were under surveillance as the opposition sought reasons to declare each of us unfit for leadership. My mail at the office was sometimes opened, and a bogus letter with photocopied signatures was mass mailed to discredit us. We received hateful letters at our home. My nights were marked by harassing and sometimes profane phone calls.

I felt I had every reason to be angry. Perhaps that’s why I agreed to take the next dubious step.

At my recommendation, the elders invited a lawyer to advise us on how to answer the lawsuit. The lawyer’s approach appealed to us because we were hurt. Many of the other leaders had been subjected to the same harassment I was enduring.

The lawyer advised us to countersue.

“You didn’t start this,” he said, “but if you are put on a basketball court, you have to play the game. According to research in civil suits, the majority of people who strike first win; so, if you are to have a chance of winning, you need to strike back hard.

“If they ask for $3 million, you ask for $5 million. If the church is going to reclaim even its legal costs, you have to sue for damages.”

Some objected, “I thought Christians shouldn’t sue Christians.” We all agreed, in theory, but Christians had just sued us! And our former senior pastor (who would be named in the countersuit) had officially been rendered the same as a “pagan or a tax collector” (Mt. 18:17).

We finally concluded that the church did deserve to be paid back for its costs, and we agreed to launch the countersuit. Later, with our church’s reputation muddied by reports of litigious Christians, I came to regret the decision.

Months after the first lawsuits were filed, the courts determined no financial fraud with church funds had taken place. Because Pastor Smith had been arrested and convicted by then, the plaintiffs indefinitely “postponed the suits without prejudice.”

The money trail

A few weeks after Allen’s resignation, Allen and his loyal associate, John, rented a tent for a Saturday meeting of Allen’s followers, a group of about 200. There they laid out the plans for a new church they intended to build.

They instructed their friends to retain membership back at Faith Church in order to vote on issues still relevant to Allen, but to save their offerings for when Allen and John would begin the new church.

The next day, before the Sunday morning service, I confronted John on the meeting and what was said. He confirmed their plan.

“How can you take a salary from this church, while urging people to divert their money to the splinter faction?” I asked. Then I fired him on the spot. The board met that afternoon to confirm the firing, and John was given a farewell receiving line following that night’s service.

The offerings almost dried up. Allen’s antagonists didn’t want to give, since some of the money might be used toward his severance package. Allen’s loyalists were following their party line, stowing their gifts for the new church. Even those caught in the middle hated to see their tithes going to the lawyers.

The following Sunday, during the announcements, I spoke from my heart. “If you feel that God can no longer bless you in this church, that God has led you to stop praying here, serving here, giving here, that you feel God has led you to another congregation, then go.

“Let your ‘yes’ be yes and your ‘no’ no. Don’t be double-minded. Wherever the Lord has led you, go there, pray, serve, give, vote. Whatever your lingering commitments are here, wrap them up. Tell your leader you’re leaving, finish your commitment, and leave in good order.

“Shake the dust off your feet. One thing you must not do is go somewhere else half-heartedly and come back on occasion to interfere.”

As people left, I was greeted with anger. “How dare you tell us not to give our money to Allen and John! Or not to come back here to vote! That’s exactly what our pastor is telling us to do.”

My only response was “Let your ‘yes’ be yes and your ‘no’ be no.”

Many stuck with Allen’s plan and eventually gave their accrued offerings to Allen. He supposedly needed to buy a parsonage as he began the new church. He did buy himself a house, but soon left the new church.

Shaky middle ground

The third, “middle” faction of the church was overwhelmed by the chaos around them. Most of these folks wore the same panicky look as Dorothy when the tornado swirled Auntie Em’s farmhouse upward into the sky.

Rejecting the angry mob on one side and the blindly loyal on the other, the third group looked for someone who could lead them out of the crossfire. They turned to me. At one point a petition was circulated in hopes that I would start another new church.

There were compelling reasons to consider the suggestion. I would have liked to spare my family. A peaceful resolution seemed a long way off. And the people on this petition weren’t the ones suing, swearing, or withholding their offerings.

Though their motives seemed admirable, if we left to start another church, we would be acting no less divisively than those who had brought the lawsuits and split the church already. The leaven was dividing the lump.

Bittersweet reconciliation

After almost six months, I resigned. With my doctoral degree completed, I taught for two years in a college. Then I was invited to serve as an interim pastor for a different church in the area.

My first Sunday there I looked out at the congregation and recognized nearly 100 faces. They were people who were once a part of that third faction. They had eventually left Faith Church and constructively joined this congregation. I served as interim for eight months, after which I was called as senior pastor. I served there for the next ten years.

Three years into my ministry, the remnant of those who walked out with Allen asked us to enfold their struggling congregation into our church. We welcomed them gladly, and two thirds of Faith Church had made genuine peace.

Then, a teenager began attending our youth group. Her name was Dawn Creek, daughter of Doug, the man who discovered Allen’s fraud.

While in college, Dawn contracted a virulent lung infection. She spent a month in the intensive care unit, barely clinging to life. The waiting room outside the ICU became a place of healing. Many people from all three factions gathered there.

We prayed for a girl we all loved, and while we prayed for one miracle, we watched another as, at various times, God was reconciling the church and showing us what really mattered. The value of life became clear as Dawn died.

If we hadn’t found a way to reconcile before, we now had the opportunity of a lifetime. Once again, God used an innocent person to build a bridge of forgiveness.

Harry McGee is a pseudonym.*The names and locations in the article have been changed.

Copyright © 2003 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal.Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.