Photographs below from Stations of the Cross, Walk of Witness and At the Foot of the Cross, plus my reflection for the At the Foot of the Cross service:
The cross first made an impact in my life when I was about 7 or 8 years of age. I remember attending a Holiday Bible Club at the church we attended where I heard the story of the crucifixion and realised that Jesus died for me. That night I knelt by my bed before going to sleep and asked Jesus into my life. It was the realisation that Jesus had been willing to die to save me that led me to pray that prayer.
Later, as an under-confident teenager I came to think and feel that I was not good enough for God because I was self-critical and felt that I was inadequate in many respects. One evening I talked about these feeling to a leader at the Church Youth Club that I was then attending. He pointed me to Romans 5. 8 which says “God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us”. His argument was that the cross reveals that we are loved as we are. We don’t need to change in order to be loved by God. Any change that may be necessary will come once we realise that we are loved by God and will come about because of gratitude for that love. As a result, I gradually became more confident in myself because I understood deep down that I was fully loved by God. Again, it was Christ’s death of the cross that brought me to that realisation.
As my understanding of the cross grew, I began to be deeply moved in the way the hymn writer William Walsham How describes in ‘It is a thing most wonderful’ when he writes:
I sometimes think about the cross, and shut my eyes, and try to see the cruel nails and crown of thorns, and Jesus crucified for me.
I continue to find it amazing and deeply moving that Jesus was prepared to suffer and die for my sake. A song about the cross that has always moved me since I first heard it is ‘How could you say no’ by Julie Miller:
Thorns on his head spear in his side Yet it was a heartache that made him cry He gave his life so you would understand Is there any way you could say no to this man
If Christ himself were standing here Face full of glory and eyes full of tears And he held out his arms and his nail printed hands Is there any way you could say no to this man
How could you look in his tear-stained eyes Knowing it's you he's thinking of Could you tell him you're not ready to give him your life Could you say you don't think you need his love
Jesus is here with his arms open widе You can see him with your heart if you'll stop looking with your eyes Hе's left it up to you, he's done all that he can Is there any way you could say no to this man
‘There was a cross in the heart of God before there was one planted on the green hill in Jerusalem. And now that the cross of wood has been taken down, the one in the heart of God abides, and it will remain so long as there is one sinful soul for whom to suffer.’
Finally, what I’ve realised most recently, through the time I spent at St Martin-in-the-Fields learning from the theology of their Vicar Sam Wells, is that the cross is Jesus’ ultimate demonstration of being with us. If there’s one word that sums up all four gospels, that word is ‘with.’ Jesus’ ministry, above all else, is about being with us, in pain and glory, in sorrow and in joy, in quiet and in conflict, in death and in life.
Jesus then faces true despair on the cross. He experiences the isolation that humankind has brought on itself, and in his case it’s even more ghastly: he’s isolated from God the Father, who seems to have forsaken him. He must choose between being with us and being with the Father. He chooses us. The Father meanwhile must choose between letting Jesus be with us or drawing Jesus back into the Trinity. Both are terrible choices, because they jeopardise the integrity of the Trinity: but there’s no way for God to continue to be God without the commitment to be with costing not less than everything. This then is what is taking place on Good Friday: we behold Jesus, embodying the Trinity’s eternal commitment to be with us, becoming isolated from the Father. Agony of agony: a rupture in the Trinity; a cross in the heart of God.
Is our alienation from God really so profound that it pushes God to such lengths to reverse and heal it? We don’t want to believe it. But here it is, in front of our eyes. That’s what the cross is – our cowardice and cruelty confronted by God’s wondrous love. Is being with us forever really worth God going to such lengths to secure? Now that is, perhaps, the most awesome question of all. It takes us to the heart of God’s identity, and the heart of our own. Can we really believe God thought we were worth it? Are our paltry lives worth the Trinity setting aside the essence of its identity in order that we might be with God and incorporated into God’s life forever?
Jesus’ cry is one of agony that to reach us he had, for a moment, to let go of his Father. What is our cry? Our cry is one of grief, that we were not with him. It’s a cry of astonishment, that he was, despite everything, still with us. And it’s a cry of conviction and commitment, that we will be with him henceforth, and forevermore.
One of the great pleasures of 2012 for me was discovering the music of Bill Fay through Life
is People.
Fay's songs are simply astonishing - simple and melodic yet with unusual
imagery and insights (both whimsical and surreal bearing comparison with Syd Barrett and Nick Drake) delivered with gravity and grace. 'Cosmic Concerto (Life Is
People)' is a highlight from a collection of stand-out tracks; a celebration of
the miracle of ordinary life, the infinite variation in each human face, which
stirs his soul. I'm currently absorbing his classic Time Of The Last Persecution; empathy in the face of apocalypse. Humility seems to run throughout his music; both in his low-key, almost hesitant and weathered delivery and in lyrics such as "The never ending happening / Of what's to be and
what has been / Just to be a part of it / Is astonishing to me" ('The Never
Ending Happening') and "I don't ask much, for myself / But for the one's I
love" ('Thank You Lord').
Following on from that discovery, here are some other stunning songwriters who, like Fay, have not achieved the attention that their work actually merits:
Michael Been, The Call's singer/songwriter, was born in Oklahoma City but migrated to California before forming The Call with Scott Musik. Sin and salvation are staples of the diet that The Call served up. Been thought that every fault in the world was within him and said that he had had "hundreds of born-again experiences" needing them because he was dead a lot of the time: "I believe in truth. Whatever is necessary for a person to experience to find the rock bottom, to know the darkness of his life, that's right. A lot of our music is confrontational, it deals with the dark side of life because that teaches us something." Red Moon and Reconciled represent the peak of The Call's work combining literate lyrics with powerful anthems and genuinely encompassing despair, ecstasy and the stages in between.
T. Bone Burnett creates ridiculous satirical morality tales - the marijuana smoking computer operator paying through the nose for free love (The Sixties), the millionaire buying culture in massive fashionable chunks (A Ridiculous Man) and the émigrés selling soft sentiment and soft porn to children (Hefner and Disney). Burnett knows though that judgements are precarious - that what we think we know and what we actually know are often in opposition - so he balances his tales on the jerky, anxious, angular rhythms of his rock 'n' country hybrid, almost like stiltwalking.
Peter Case neatly summed up the dual strands of American music when he wrote in the sleeve notes toPeter Case that he didn't know any songs about America but that these songs were about "sin and salvation". Like Bruce Springsteen, Case has an ability to speak in the voice of those people struggling for a nickel, shuffling for a dime who find themselves caught in relationships that have ensnared them. Theirs is the voice of hope deferred - to someone else (Turning Blue), and the voice of harsh experience - "You don't know it but it's plain to see/You can't tell when you're workin' for your enemy" (Workin' For The Enemy). His eye for colourful detail authenticates his character's tales and adds extra layers of meaning - "So we made love in that place out in back/The last time that we took off our clothes/We took other things and took more than that/I took off with my clothes in a sack and I froze"
Rated "rock’s last great obscurity" by Melody Maker Bruce Cockburn has quietly made a living as a singer/songwriter since 1970 and his self-titled debut while never going all out for fame and fortune. As literate a guitarist as he is a lyricist he fuses sparklingly complex jazz/rock rhythms with metaphor loaded lyricism, as often spoken as sung – "sometimes things don’t easily reduce to rhyming couplets". Forty years plus of consistent, intelligent exploration of the personal, political and spiritual, often within the same song, is no mean achievement. When combined with both an honesty about his own relationship and faith frailties and a willingness to campaign with the likes of Oxfam raging against US and IMF oppression in the two-thirds world, you have to give the man respect. In 1992 in a song, Closer to the Light, written following the death of Mark Heard, Cockburn wrote the line - "There you go/Swimming deeper into mystery" – which seemed to sum the direction in which Cockburn’s work has headed over the course of his long career.
Like Gordan Gano of the Violent Femmes, David Eugene Edwards has a preacher in the family - in Edwards case, his Nazarene preacher Grandfather. Edward's songs not only oscillate around the twin poles of sin and salvation but use the language of the King James version as they do so. If any current music fully inhabits the Southern mindset then surely it is this. 16 Horsepower released their debut album Sackcloth 'N' Ashes in 1995 and, after the eventual demise of 16 Horsepower, DEE continued in similar vein with Woven Hand. As he has said: 'The myths of our country are in the songs. The untold stories and
gaps in history books are in the songs – our recollection is preserved in this
music. Those songs as well as the stories that my parents told me, the bible and
the books I read, all this is the foundation of my imagination of America.'
Formed in 1982 and discovered by Chrissie Hynde busking outside a Pretender's gig, the Violent Femmes were among the first to combine punk's frenzy with country's resignation and gospel's jubilation. That full on clash of contradiction is the raison d'etre of the band (and something they were into long before the idea featured in U2's third coming). "That's the thing about this band," said Gordon Gano their singer/songwriter, "in the songs, in the whole performance of them, there's all different levels of total contradiction going on at the same moment where we are serious and as far from being serious as possible, it's important and also far away from being important". It's also part of the "American tradition" - "Country music has a long tradition of singing horrible songs about drinking and sinning and then doing some sincere gospel numbers". This is where 'Country Death Song' gets its dark inspiration from - "I even think 'Country Death Song' is happy because all the awfulness of the song, it came out of my love for country music and I feel happy when I sing it. I must have a different perspective".
Mark Heard wrote, in 'I Just Wanna Get Warm', "The mouths of the best poets speak but a few words/Then lay down, stone cold, in forgotten fields" - in retrospect that seems prophetic. Just a glimpse into the soul of a man known by so few and yet so deeply missed by so many. The liner notes from the tribute album say it best: "Mark Heard left behind a legacy of music that will undoubtedly impact the lives of many, just as he has impacted the lives of the artists who participated in Strong Hand of Love. The testimony of his brilliance as a poet and artist is undeniably evident throughout this inspiring tribute."
Los Angeles group Love were, in the words of David Fricke, 'the bi-racial folk-rock pirates who made Love and Da Capo in 1966, then the silken psychedelia of Forever Changes in 1967.' 'Although Arthur Lee was the main writer, [Bryan] MacLean contributed some fine songs, including Orange Skies, Old Man and the haunting Alone Again Or, with its flamenco-style guitar and dramatic trumpet flourishes.' ifyoubelieveinis a collection of MacLean's music written when he was in the band and written with Love in mind. 'After an aborted attempt at a solo career ... [MacLean]joined a Christian Fellowship Church called the Vineyard ... During Friday night Bible stints [MacLean] took the concert part of the session and was so amazed at the reaction he gradually assembled a catalogue of his Christian songs.' Taken from the Latin and literally meaning 'within the walls', Intra Muros is the album of "spooky" Christian music MacLean was completing at the time of his death. Due to 'the great strength of songs like the amazing Love Grows In Me and My Eyes Are Open', Intra Muros 'stands as fine testament to the ability of a great songwriter.'
Michael McDermott's trademark embrace is "of faith and hope in the face of adversity." His lyrics are "uniquely evocative" as he "sings in poetry", his tunes being "literate story-songs." Stephen King wrote of him: “Michael McDermott is one of the best songwriters in the world and possibly the greatest undiscovered rock ‘n’ roll talent of the last 20 years.” In “Mess of Things,” McDermott sings, “the trouble with trouble is that it sometimes sticks/plays tricks with your mind while it gets its kicks/And slowly there’s a momentum shift/And the weight becomes too great to lift.” McDermott sings about a world where “everybody is bleeding, or everybody is filled with doubt,” and yet he sings, “say the word/And I shall be healed.”
'After the Flood' from Lone Justice's debut album neatly fits Maria McKee's description of country music - "originally Country music was very raw and very spiritual and very gut-level". With a half brother (Bryan MacLean) from seminal 60s LA band Love and Victoria Williams as a next-door neighbour growing up ("she taught me my first guitar chords", McKee has said and they sang briefly together before their separate careers took off), the emphasis was always likely to be on the raw, spiritual and gut-level rather than the country aspect of the definition. By the time McKee recorded her second solo album You Gotta Sin To Get Saved, with a band that included Jayhawks, Gary Louris and Mark Olson (then Williams' husband), she felt she was standing still, merely reprising her work with Lone Justice. She responded by recording the critically acclaimed album Life Is Sweet. Here she felt her songwriting becoming "crystal and dramatic ... this larger-than-life grandiose thing, sort of riding the fine line of bad taste". Grunge based and coruscating on tracks like 'Scarlover', Life is Sweet sounds a far cry from the cow-punk of Lone Justice but it remains "very raw and very spiritual and very gut-level". At the end of the day that's what matters.
Julie Miller writes nakedly emotional songs which in their aching beauty combine perseverance and faith with sorrow and heartache. Her songs have featured in her solo work, her husband Buddy Miller's solo albums and on several jointly recorded albums. An early song reflecting on the crucifixion asked, 'How can you say No to this man?' The same question can be asked of Miller's confessional work - how can you say no to the grace and openness found therein?
Neal Morse is a US prog rocker who first
made his mark in the band Spock’s Beard and then formed the prog-rock supergroup
Transatlantic. Following his conversion to Christianity in 2000, he left both
bands and has since produced a substantial and well-regarded body of solo work
exploring different aspects of his faith. His fourth solo album
Sola Scriptura, across four tracks and 76 minutes (this is prog
rock we’re talking here!), tells the story of Martin Luther and the Reformation.
Morse says, “The point of it is to point us … toward the light of God's truth
which is laid out wonderfully before us in the scriptures. Of course, this is a
lofty goal for a mere CD, but, with God anything is possible!”
Over The Rhine'sLinford Detweiler and Karen Bergquist say: "... we try to write music that in little ways helps to heal the wounds that life has dealt us or the wounds we’ve dealt ourselves. We try to write songs that can hum joyfully at the stars when something good goes down. We try to write tunes capable of whispering to a sleeping child that in spite of everything, somehow, all is well. We try to write words that help us learn to tell the truth to ourselves and others." “We’re really only reflecting what we’ve already heard,” Detweiler explains, “a mix of all the music we grew up with and were drawn to: old gospel hymns, the country and western music on WWVA, the rock and roll records the kids at school passed around, the symphonic music that my father brought home, the jazz musicians we discovered in college, the Great American Songbook performers that Karin’s mother loved, and of course the various singer-songwriters that eventually knocked the roof off our world. But when this music is reflected back to the listener through the filter of our own particular lives, hopefully it becomes a much different experience (maybe even somewhat unique) for those with ears to hear.”
The Innocence Mission hail from Lancaster, Pennsylvania and own up to a "religious upbringing where our parents lived out their faith rather than evangelised". They formed in 1982 and initially attracted the support of Joni Mitchell and her then husband, Larry Klien. Mitchell called Karen Peris "one of the most interesting singer/songwriters around at the moment", while Klien produced their first two albums (The Innocence Mission and Umbrella). Peris summed up the band's approach when she said "I saw something in a book Float Planes. In the beginning there's a quote from a hymn that said, "When I die hallelujah! Bye bye I'll fly away ..." and that's exactly what I think we want to say." In 'Wonder of Birds', from the first album, they talk of building homes with windows to fly through and this is an apt description of their songs. 'Bright As Yellow' for example, from their third album Glow, is a joyful celebration of that open-handed, open-hearted approach to life, as exemplified by Peris's mother. Peris writes conversational songs that draw significance from the everyday while the band on the earliest albums set these to a swirling, chiming, transcendent version of the 'big' music.
Leslie Phillips sang in Sunday School with Maria McKee and recorded several albums for the CCM label Word before a name change to Sam, a marriage to T-Bone Burnett and a series of critically acclaimed albums often produced by Burnett. Phillips combines a cool pop sensibility with razor-sharp lyrics. A mix that finds her ethereal voice, tinged with melancholy, soaring over like a seagull skimming waves.
Jim White inhabits a world where the natural and supernatural are intertwined and where the ordinary slips seamlessly into the extraordinary. White says in 'Still Waters', "Well, don't you know there are projects for the dead and projects for the living?/Though I must confess sometimes I get confused by that distinction". White's characters have ghosts in their homes, curse ships which promptly sink and serenade the dying ('Still Waters').
Victoria Williams has a naive, folky style which uses images and characters that would not be out of place in a painting by Marc Chagall. This style, however, conceals a great subtlety of approach and a willingness to experiment with musical form in a similar to fashion to that of Van Morrison. Williams builds songs that are not simply a melody running through verses and chorus but which, in tandem with the lyrics, veer off in directions that are consistent with the emotional ebb and flow of the song as a whole. She sees the divine through the local, the ordinary, the common-place, and the natural finding the wind of the Holy Spirit blowing through the building of a raft and duets with a fellow-traveller on the New York underground ('Holy Spirit').
I write more about some of the above in my co-authored book 'The Secret Chord'.
Another artist that I came across while leafing through catalogues in Cornwall was John Miller, who was born in London in 1931 and started painting as a teenager. Online he is described as follows:
"His first main career was as an architect and after a visit to West Cornwall in the mid-fifties he returned to live there in 1958 with Michael Truscott. He was elected to the Newlyn Society of Artists in 1961 and became a Fellow of the Royal Society of Arts in 1964.
He went on to show in London, New York, Vancouver and Europe and made many broadcasts and television appearances. Visiting the Isles of Scilly led to the beach paintings, and after living at Sancreed for many years he painted from a house on the beach at Lelant where some of his most evocative paintings were done. Travels in places such as Goa and Greece also influenced his paintings, as did his deep spiritual and religious beliefs, which shine through the colour and intensity of the images.
The blue and white images of beaches, sky and sea have become a trademark of both his artistic style and personality. Rock star Chris Rea required an image for ‘King of the Beach’, and chose a painting by John Miller for the CD cover. His paintings have decorated the walls of TV’s ‘Eastenders’, and the set of John Boorman’s film ‘The Tailor of Panama’.
In 1989, he published an autobiography, “Leave Tomorrow Behind”. After a short illness he died on Tuesday 23rd July 2002, at his home in Penzance. The memorial exhibition included a selection of paintings inspired by his last trip to Goa alongside works in both oil and gouache of his beloved Cornwall. Further reading: Another Shade Of Blue and John Miller 1931-2002: Seeing Is Believing."
My initial impression from a brief look at Miller's work is that his 'spiritual' works exemplify what has become a common and now clichéd feature of 'spiritual' or 'prophetic' painting i.e. a single colour field with a sole figure spotlit in a celestial beam of light.
“Christ Jesus … had equal status with God but didn't think so much of himself that he had to cling to the advantages of that status no matter what. Not at all. When the time came, he set aside the privileges of deity and took on the status of a slave, became human! Having become human, he stayed human. It was an incredibly humbling process. He didn't claim special privileges. Instead, he lived a selfless, obedient life and then died a selfless, obedient death — and the worst kind of death at that — a crucifixion.” (Philippians 2. 6-8, The Message)
God became a slave, a servant of human beings, of us. Just think about that for a moment, think about the implications. Our creator, the designer of creation, the artist of the galaxies, the one who sustains life, the one to whom we owe everything, especially our very lives themselves becomes our servant and washes our feet.
Slowly becoming aware in the confused, crowded crush of life of someone serving me. At times congested by books, people, places to be. At times hurried, harried and put upon. Times of blind step by step feeling, times of guilt ridden guilt, waiting. Times alone, aware. Fun and smiling, times of failing.
Always someone dusty feet washing, waist-stripped, kneeling relief. Someone serving me serving, my God!, my God serving me.
How does God serve us? “He lived a selfless, obedient life and then died a selfless, obedient death — and the worst kind of death at that — a crucifixion.”
He died for us! While we were still sinners, while we were in rebellion against him, while we were still shaking our fists in his face and demanding our right to do as we wanted when we wanted, Christ died for us. “God put his love on the line for us by offering his Son in sacrificial death while we were of no use whatever to him ... when we were at our worst, we were put on friendly terms with God by the sacrificial death of his Son.” (Romans 5. 6, 8b, The Message)
And this God, who serves us by dying us, calls us to serve others and love others as he has served and loved us; how could we do anything less, how could we say no to this man, to this God, to Jesus?
“Thorns on his head spear in his side Yet it was a heartache that made him cry He gave his life so you would understand Is there any way you could say no to this man?
If Christ himself were standing here Face full of glory and eyes full of tears And he held out his arms and his nail printed hands Is there any way you could say no to this man?
How could you look in his tear stained eyes Knowing it's you he's thinking of? Could you tell him you're not ready to give him your life? Could you say you don't think you need his love?
Jesus is here with his arms open wide You can see him with your heart if you'll stop looking with your eyes He's left it up to you, he's done all that he can Is there any way you could say no to this man?
How could you look in his tear stained eyes Knowing it's you he's thinking of? Could you tell him you're not ready to give him your life? Could you say you don't think you need his love?
Thorns on his head your life in his hands Is there any way you could say no to this man? Is there any way you could say no to this man?”
"Do you understand what I have done to you? You address me as 'Teacher' and 'Master,' and rightly so. That is what I am. So if I, the Master and Teacher, washed your feet, you must now wash each other's feet. I've laid down a pattern for you. What I've done, you do. I'm only pointing out the obvious. A servant is not ranked above his master; an employee doesn't give orders to the employer. If you understand what I'm telling you, act like it — and live a blessed life … Let me give you a new command: Love one another. In the same way I loved you, you love one another. This is how everyone will recognize that you are my disciples—when they see the love you have for each other." (John 13. 12b-17, 34-35, The Message)
