A Healer’s Geste

All God’s Children and Blue Suede Shoes: Chapter 1

Chapter One: Of the World But Not in the World

Firstly, that is a great title. I was absolutely immersed in Contemporary Christian Music in 8th-10th grade. I was already coming out of it when I put in a year working at the local Bible Bookstore, and working in that environment was nauseous. Several people assumed I would appreciate working for and with Christians rather than for and with Mormons, but I would always respond, “Well, at least the Mormons closed their store on Sundays.”

I was immersed in CCM, went to three-day concert festivals, and read a boatload of <a href=”Gilbert Morris and Jeanette Oke. I debated sometimes heatedly with my friends (who were my companions in these matters) about what made music Christian (my Dad’s answer that music can’t be Christian, only people can be, seemed too glib at the time, now seems fairly obvious) and chattered with my friends about crossover/sell-out scandals (after all, Amy Grant had been my favorite since I was small) and I even covered my door with a collage of magazine cut-outs of CCM artists. My brother (3 years younger than I) read Dante while I read Gilbert Morris and more and more and more Gilbert Morris.

Working at the Bible Bookstore, I was embarrassed by the tacky kitsch not only that we sold — but that people actually bought. And customers honestly believed they were buying more holy items because it was sold within the four walls of a Bible Bookstore. I worked alongside a lady who was completely disillusioned of and sickened by the tripe and trash she helped to order and sell, but she was convinced she couldn’t get a different job. One lady once came in looking for a Nancy Wilson book and I knew what she wanted told her how to order it from Canon Press, and that made the year’s stint worth it.

I went to a couple three-day CCM concert festivals. It was a fun time with friends and I really enjoyed myself. However, by the last year I went (I think I was 17), the concert part of it was the excuse to go but was not the real enjoyable part. The enjoyable part was organizing and running the escapade and hanging out over two nights with good friends. The concerts themselves were often disturbing. A bass player must have long permed hair, I learned. Several of the bands, even one of the big-name bands, had boys wearing skirts and obvious makeup. However, even the “shows” had their highlights, like hearing Joshua Harris plainly tell a tent-full of bikini-topped girls that they were immodest and it didn’t matter how hot it was (it was over 100-degrees), they should still be decent.

Then I went to college. I majored in English and read great literature; I went to Christ Church and sang Genevan psalms. I got a small dose of real culture. And over Christmas break, I picked up the new release in my favorite Gilbert Morris series, and I couldn’t stomach it. I didn’t finish it. I couldn’t believe I had really enjoyed it before. It was trite, sentimental, formulaic drivel. I still enjoy a good historical fiction novel, but now I read –gasp– non-Christian authors.

And now occasionally I turn on KLOVE — positive, encouraging KLOVE — and I know over half the songs they play. So I infer the late nineties was CCM’s peak and it hasn’t done much since. But I don’t turn to KLOVE often nor stay there long. It is more positive than Christian and more encouraging than edifying.

But my favorite music is still Christian music. Truly, the Gospel and God’s story provide the richest material for metaphor and poetry. Music is a conduit for poetry, and the best poetry will always be by Christians — they have Truth, and the Truth is rich and broad and deep. Caedmon’s Call and Andrew Peterson are my favorites.

So, anyway, back to Myers and away from personal anecdote (except for this last one: when I was little I thought it was anticdote, which made sense to me, and I still try to spell it that way). In this short chapter Myers demonstrates that the Christian subculture is really a parasite on the secular popular culture, mimicking its gimmicks to make a coin on those who want a sanitized version of whatever is hip. Popular culture, in his book then, comprehends this sort of Christian subculture as well, for this is true of both Christian and secular Americans:

“A society that cultivates commonness, that is suspicious of genius, that has more esteem for the entrepreneur who caters to the tastes of the many than the visionary who challenges the spirits of the few — such a society is always in danger of defining worth in terms of immediate demand rather than eternal significance.”

Myers demonstrates that American evangelicalism has always been anti-elitist and populist: the ability to communicate is more valued than a love of truth, ratings are more important than rationality, quantity is sought rather than quality. He explains this tendency as being rooted in a desire to fulfill the Great Commission and reach the masses, and so we think “popular” is good because it’s useful and has broad-based appeal — and we utilize it without examination. Americans are pragmatists, and so we equate evangelizing with communicating to as many as possible rather than seeking true conviction, repentance, and discipleship of individuals. I thought that was a good insight, and a humble and gracious explanation.

It is plain that Myers does not want to retreat from popular culture, nor set up a parallel culture, but simply to understand our times so that we can walk in obedience and wisdom where we have been placed.