Honestly

Well, what can I say? I'm home for Spring Break right now. It's so nice. I really do enjoy getting up at 12:30 in the afternoon and sitting around in my pajamas until the evening. It makes me forget that I actually have responsibilities and obligations (those urgent headhunters). At the request of a friend, I've continued to write in my little notebooks. It's been a very rewarding process so far this week. I enjoy scribbling down half-cooked ideas and thoughts at red lights and in coffee shop corners. I admit, it helps me to drool out letters in this little corner of the blogosphere but it can get awfully lonely. One thing I liked about xanga was the feeling (or maybe the illusion) of comradery. Someone would leave a comment and you would comment back. It was a give and take. Here, it feels more like I'm working in a backroom exhibit that charges way too much money for entry. I have narcoleptic feet.

So here's the rub. I love honesty. It's one of the most attractive things to me. I hate myself when I find that I've been disingenuous. My affinity for honesty sometimes gets me into trouble. But honestly, I feel I can't help it. It pains me to my bones that the secular arts reach such heights and delve such depths of honesty that the arts in the church have long forgotten. Christians used to write incredible concertos and build achingly beautiful cathedrals and etch prose that could break your heart. But in decades past to this very hour, we've offer cardboard cut-outs. Perhaps it's because we have traded sincerity for excellence. We think that if we sing "Glory, glory, glory" enough times over the same four chords, somehow the fact that any artistic glory is lacking might just disappear. I'm going to focus mainly on music because it's what I know.

I'm not sure exactly where the trend started. Maybe no one can pinpoint the year. But music that is created by Christians has suffered terribly at the hands of inferior musicians. There are a small number of Christian musicians and singers that I will listen to these days. While I agree with their goal (to glorify God through music) and thank God that they do it, I simply can't find much aesthetic satisfaction in listening to them glorifying God. Maybe that's a weak statement. I don't know. But I do know that, as a musician, I get more enjoyment in listening to the skill of a pagan artist (one that does not know Christ as Lord) than a Christian artist. Am I ashamed of admitting that? I am not. I think you should be careful with what music you listen to because a lyric has a way of infiltrating your head and building a nest in your heart. And if that lyric glorifies sin or smothers your love for God, then that music has to be cut out of your life. But not everything a non-Christian writes is going to do a Christian harm.

What are most songs about that were written by non-Christians? They're about relationships. They're about desires and thoughts and people. They're about daily living. And I'm not talking about the vocal minority that sings about sex using vulgar and childish language. But the lyrical content runs the gamut. Now, contrast that with what Christian artists write songs about. They are songs about God, about the atonement, about loving others. Are those bad things to sing about? By no means! But do those things encapsulate life? What about desires? What about divorce? What about buying groceries and having a conversation with a stranger? I'm going to agree with the singer/songwriter Derek Webb when he says that Christian music addresses about 2% of life. But the life I lead isn't always about praising God and singing glory to His name. Practically speaking, it can't be. Yes, I want every aspect of my life to give Him the honor due His name. But my life is made up mostly of going to school, sleeping, eating, doing homework, talking with friends, etc. My life is not a very lofty, transcendent story. And I think, in general, life is not made up of lofty, transcendent moments. I want the honest Christian to start writing songs about life as it really is. I want the honesty that paints life in its true colors. I can think of too few bands and singers who have been willing to do that.

Your PB from J for today: "They always grow louder when they're about to feed on human flesh!"

Cravings

Have we all had fun storming the castle?

I've been thinking about desire and how it relates to the supremacy of God in my life. I was listening to a lecture by John Piper yesterday and he said something very penetrating. Maybe my armor was weak over my heart and that's why it cut in so easily. I'm not sure. But he was talking about why he was a Calvinist. He said that when people think of Calvinism, they usually think of five controversial doctrinal points, the last of which is the most volatile and cold. But when Piper thinks of Calvinism, he thinks of how God's sovereignty touches everything. His main concern on a Saturday night is weeding out what he can spare. He has too much to preach on because he sees every single text as interconnected because everything in the Bible and in life connects to God. This is something I think God has been teaching me recently. Could it be possible that the Gospel fits into all the cracks? Could it be that holiness is not just intended for relationships and church and devotional moments of fervent and intimate worship? I think that holiness fits into how we buy our groceries and how we do our homework and how we lay on the couch after a hard day. I'm convinced that nothing is nonspiritual. It all falls under the umbrella of God's Word. All that to say, I've been thinking about desire lately.

What I'm now about to spill here is nothing novel. I know it's old. But it's been shrapnel in my mind. I feel that I must blame Charles Haddon Spurgeon and the apostle Peter for the nagging appetite in my head. I've been speared through the gut with this ice cold realization: Christians have forgotten what desire is for. We really have. I'm not talking about a craving for cheese cake or chocolate. I'm not talking about a desire for a spouse (although that's closer to the mark, perhaps). But when you read 1 Peter 2:2, what are your observations about nourishment and maturity? "Like newborn infants, long for the pure spiritual milk, that by it you may grow up into salvation (italics mine)". Craving is an essential part of spiritual growth. Desire is the hinge on which joy swings. But Christians, especially evangelicals, don't seem to realize that. Spurgeon makes the argument in his sermon "A Weighty Charge" that love is directly tied to desire. He says that a love for God can only be sustained by a desire for more of it. "O Christians, remember that you must advance or backslide. You must build higher and higher. Love must become more and more supreme in your souls or you will decline."

If we really knew what we were missing, we would be lustful and covetous after it. Love is an inferno. But if it does not consume fuel, it will die. C.S Lewis was right. We really are a half-hearted creatures. God must find our desires too weak. While we steer our cravings towards sin and self-gratification, we miss the point of our desires. Our desires were intended for God. He is the ultimate. Do we realize that at His right hand there are pleasures forevermore (Ps.16:11)? Have we tasted the sweetness of His words (Ps.119:103)? And if so, has it left us desperate for more? I'm convinced that there is no more dangerous state of mind than that of satisfaction. To be satisfied is to stay put. To remain unsatisfied is to always want to move forward, to want more. As the prophet said in Jeremiah 15:16 "Your words were found and I ate them and your words became to me a joy and the delight of my heart, for I am called by your name, O LORD, God of hosts." When things delight me, I want more of it. That's why I am addicted to Dr. Pepper. It delights me. I enjoy it and so I want more of it. I am striving after the divine addiction. As dear C.H once said, "He who loves God most is happiest." Amen, Mr. Spurgeon. Amen.