How many times have you read the Friday Fix and been inspired, moved or reassured – and it’s reminded you of a different song that prompted similar feelings?
How many times have you thought ‘I could write a Friday Fix’ and then not got around to writing it and sending it in?
How many times have you half-written one but then worried that it’s not good enough?
We have some fabulous regular contributors but we also love to receive ‘one-offs’ too – and we can’t help thinking that there are a few of you that are almost poised to send a Friday Fix to us but then bottle it.
A few years ago, I got a bit grumpy that music wasn’t what it used to be. Well, what do you expect – I’d become properly middle-aged so complaining about what the younger generations were listening to seems to be a thing you do. What I really meant was that it didn’t seem to be a mouthpiece for social commentary, observation and, heaven forbid, activism anymore. And it felt like the ‘protest song’ had especially disappeared from the popular music sphere.
I was born into the world when the Vietnam War was reaching its peak. I grew up with Bob Dylan, Edwin Starr, and John Lennon blaring away in the background. And during my teenage years in the 1980s, it felt like you couldn’t move for protest songs – Bob Marley, U2, The Specials, NWA, Midnight Oil, The Jam, Peter Gabriel…to name but a few.
The 90’s had its fair share too but since 2000, the number of protest songs seems to have reduced reasonably dramatically. Of course, I’m not saying that there aren’t any, it just seems that they don’t seem to exist in the mainstream so much anymore, and that’s probably down to the changing way in which we engage with popular music these days through streaming and so on.
So I was delighted when I walked past my teenage son’s bedroom the other day and heard these words blaring out:
Mister, how you making all your money? Tell me, what’s the reason for this war? You’ve bombed another country and left its people hungry Where I doubt that things where quite so bad before
It made my heart skip a beat to hear the words and music of this song. I often hear young people being derided and criticised for not being interested and concerned about things; that they are lazy and entitled, and that ‘our generation’ was never like that – we showed respect, blah, blah. Hmm. Having been a worker with young people since the early 90’s, I can categorically say these accusations fly at every generation. I once read an article from the Leicester Mercury about young people marauding and causing havoc in the city to a Rotary Club dinner and asked them when they thought it was written. Nobody guessed it was from the 1800’s.
So my concern that protest songs were on the decline doesn’t need to exist. When you start looking, there are lots and lots out there and this I find reassuring. That people continue to use music to voice concerns, ask questions and nudge consciences. The centuries-old tradition of the protest song is still shining the light on injustice.
Art in its many forms, has always been a way to question and challenge. Sarah Corbett, founder of the Craftivist Collective which brings together craft and activism describes it as the art of gentle protest. Music likewise, has been a non-violent way to galvanise people to collectively protest and speak truth to power.
Listening to, and playing music is more than a means of deriving pleasure and enjoyment. It’s an art that has, and continues to play a key role in tackling injustice, striving for equality, and gives voice to our desire for peace.
What I love most about this song is that it questions the values and morals of those who govern. The hypocritical nature of policies and actions:
Mister, why d’you send that fleeing family In squalor to wherever you see fit? When its in your manifesto to stop them begging outside Tesco… Do you not think this makes you a hypocrite?
The influence of global business and manufacturers:
Mister, what d’you make of all these rebels? In the deserts, fighting in the sands With guns from South Dakota and trucks made by Toyota One wonders how such things posses their hand?
And how we respond (or don’t respond) to the impact that our actions have on others
Mister, where’s the place that they call home now? Tell me when these people will be free You’ve rolled in with your tanks and now you’ve set up all your banks It’s thanks to you they’re labelled refugees
I pray to God it will be one of the last memories I lose, should my memory start to fade (at least in relation to music). Somewhat surprisingly, it is not of the Glastonbury Festival, or the Indie Discos of my university days, or secret moments of dancing around the house. No, it is far more traditional than that. Staying at Sarum College in Salisbury, feeling in somewhat of a funk, I took myself over to the cathedral for evensong. To be honest, as the service progressed I was operating pretty much on auto-pilot, with the music simply washing over me. That is, until we reached the Magnificat. The setting was that of Orlando Gibbons’ Second Service, not a setting I knew until that point. Suddenly my mood lifted and I felt an energy I had not felt in quite some time.
To start with, the impact was fairly gentle, but as the piece built the charge it gave me grew. I have always found the Magnificat to be a fairly radical prayer – prophetic both in its claiming eternal blessing for a woman, and in its sense of God’s justice. As I not only listened but heard Gibbons’ setting, as it grabbed me, it felt I was hearing its prophetic power anew. Gibbons, it seemed to me, and still seems, understood its prophetic power in a way few religious composers have. And it seems to me that prophetic power must itself have coursed in his veins as he wrote his Second Service. He was a member of the Royal Chapel from about 1603, and spent much of his musical career under the patronage of James I amongst others of significant power and wealth.
It is remarkable, therefore, that he should choose to musically highlight that part of the Magnificat that speaks of God’s preferential option for the poor and the just judgement that the rich and powerful face. The most repeated line (Jacobean polyphony and verse work includes much repetition of lines) in the whole piece is “He has scatterèd the proud” – one could find few more proud in the Jacobean Court than James himself! Over and over again, Gibbons emphasises Mary’s expression of God’s disdain for the proud, powerful and rich and the priority given to the humble and hungry. When one considers his need for patronage, and the reality that this piece would undoubtedly be performed before the highest echelons of the still-feudal aristocratic society, one cannot surely be failed to be moved to think that it must have taken great courage, no doubt inspired by the same Spirit that inspired Mary, for Gibbons to set the words of Mary’s great prophetic words in a way that itself was prophetic, speaking great truth to significant power.
When I need reminding of the power and good news of the Gospel, I turn to the Magnificat and to Gibbons’ Second Service setting of it. In doing so I am reminded of God’s willingness to unexpectedly engage with a young woman in the work of the incarnation, of God’s justice and the truth that in the incarnation the ways of the world have been turned upside down, and of the reality that God’s Spirit has used the words of Mary recorded by Luke to inspire further generations to speak prophetically to those in power.
Okay. So yes. I could have opted for the original version by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell. Believe me, it took me ages to decide which version to choose as I love both equally (and yes, I know there are more versions out there than these two…). In the end, I decided to go with the Diana Ross version because this Friday Fix is also influenced by a favourite film of mine which has this version as part of the soundtrack.
The whole story behind this song is interesting in itself. It was penned by songwriting couple Ashford and Simpson in 1966, and despite Dusty Springfield being keen to record it, Ashford and Simpson held on to the song because they really wanted it for the Motown label. In 1967, the song was recorded by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell and it became a hit. A few years later, in 1970, the song was the first solo hit for Diana Ross after parting company with The Supremes.
The ‘mountains’ that inspired Nickolas Ashford were actually the skyscrapers of New York and the thought came to him that even obstacles as tall and intimidating as these structures couldn’t quash his dreams and aspirations. As he pondered these ‘mountains’ with his wife, Valerie Simpson, they began to think about the peaks and troughs of love and the song was born.
To me, the Gaye & Terrell version comes across as very much a love song between two people; whereas this version feels more like a song about love in the wider sense. I sense empowerment and liberation in it; an acknowledgment that the act of loving involves letting go and watching from afar. It captures the love that realises that it doesn’t have any control over what happens to those they care about; it also highlights that to receive love involves asking for it too. Something that might not come easy to some of us.
If you need me, call me No matter where you are No matter how far Just call my name
Just call my name. Ask and it shall be given.
I mentioned earlier that this song instantly invokes memories of one my favourite films. Some might be thinking ‘oh yeah, the ending of Guardians of the Galaxy‘ – and to be honest, that scene is probably a helpful way to understand unconditional love. However, I’m referring to Bridget Jones’s Diary. And to gently highlight a little observation of mine that I’m not sure many film critics have noticed.
I’ve said in previous Fixes that I love a good soundtrack and that if chosen well, it helps make a film. The soundtrack of Bridget Jones’s Diary is a great example, in my opinion. And the way that this song is used in the film is genius. Because it is used twice. Once when Bridget realises that Mark Darcy really does like her ‘just as you are’, and boots her Dad out of the driving seat so that she can get to the Darcy’s Ruby Wedding as quickly as possible (and thus declare her true feelings); and the second time is during the final scene when Bridget realises something once again and goes running through the snowy streets of London in camisole, knickers, cardi and trainers.
The song used this way reminds us that not only Bridget’s love life but life in general, is full of challenges and successes. Bridget thought she had summited the mountain of her love on her way to the Ruby Wedding, only to be confronted by an unseen obstacle that prevented her getting any further at that point. However, she had another chance at the summit which had a different outcome for her.
Mountains don’t often sit on their own, they are usually surrounded by a range of mountains. Some mountains are pretty straightforward to climb, many mountain ranges have lush valleys and plateaus to rest and enjoy, and then there are the mountains where we think we’ve reached the summit only to find that there’s a little way and a steeper climb yet.
Mountains are also key places in the bible. They are places of transformative encounters. Places of visions, covenants, transfigurations. Mountains are often thought to be places of spirituality within many beliefs and religions, in fact. If you have ever stood at the top of a mountain, you will know the light, the peacefulness and the beauty that exists there.
But it is also the descent that holds importance too. People on the way down a mountain share their experiences and talk about what they have seen. Reaching the top of a mountain helps us to see the bigger picture, and it also helps us to understand the terrain that we might still need to tackle or support others through.
The key thing is – we don’t have to navigate this all alone because we are not alone. There is love completely surrounding us. And there is also love from a distance, willing us on and moving in, willing to swoop if needed. Just reach out for it (as Ashford & Simpson also wrote in a different song…).
Ain’t no mountain high enough Ain’t no valley low enough Ain’t no river wide enough To keep me from you
Beaches is one of those films that is unavoidably sob-inducing. The story is a beautiful one of friendship and love. It is a story of women’s solidarity in the face of adversity and of the reality within that.
I suppose the song from its soundtrack that crops up most for people is ‘The Wind Beneath My Wings’. Indeed a beautiful song. The one, though, that always stirs a moment of deep reflection for me is this one. I think it’s the balance of human kindness overflowing and the inevitable realisation of the fact that it’s likely to rain today.
I often wonder what its writer, Randy Newman, wants it to be saying but for me, it’s about the fact that within the relentlessness of life somehow the humanity of one for another is really what matters. It also speaks of how despite all that goodwill and generosity in play, life goes on and it’s often not easy. It’s the balancing act of the rough with the smooth. The yin & yang. The sense that life can be really, really rubbish but somewhere in the human kindness is overflowing and that’s worth holding onto. A tension in play.
Human kindness is overflowing, And I think it’s gonna rain today.
When I first became a person of faith I could have been forgiven for thinking that God’s purpose was to fix things for people. I knew even then it wasn’t all roses and happy endings. Now I’m much older I clearly see it’s really complicated. The way God works in the world. I suppose, a bit like my understanding of the lyrical content of this song, it’s a tiny bit unfathomable but I know it’s about a consistent sense that despite what’s happening – and let’s face it we’re not short on stuff to be bothered about – there’s a undercurrent of God-given love, hope and goodness.
This isn’t a trite song. It doesn’t promise better times or the sun coming out tomorrow. It does though remind us that one act can make a difference. Let your human kindness overflow today if you’re able even if it is “raining”
Broken windows and empty hallways, A pale dead moon in a sky streaked with grey. Human kindness is overflowing, And I think it’s gonna rain today.
Scarecrows dressed in the latest styles, The frozen smiles to chase love away. Human kindness is overflowing, And I think it’s gonna rain today.
Lonely, lonely. Tin can at my feet, I think I’ll kick it down the street. That’s the way to treat a friend.
Bright before me the signs implore me: Help the needy and show them the way. Human kindness is overflowing, And I think it’s gonna rain today.
Lonely, lonely. Tin can at my feet, I think I’ll kick it down the street. That’s the way to treat a friend.
Bright before me the signs implore me: Help the needy and show them the way. Human kindness is overflowing, And I think it’s gonna rain today.
Foo Fighter’s Hearing Voices’ is clearly about grief. The whole album feels as though it is a form of processing grief, that of the deaths of drummer Taylor Hawkins and Dave Grohl’s mother, Virginia. But Grohl is on record as recognising that part of the joy of music is that people find different meanings in the same song. For me, the song, and the idea of seeking out a particular voice, brings to mind a different experience.
Now, to tell this story I need to be clear that while I grew up in the Church, the son of an Anglican parish priest, it was very much the rational, reasonable, liberal-to-radical part of the Church. To put it bluntly, I was more likely to think someone who told me God had spoken to them was psychotic rather than a saint!
It is important to know this because I have no other way of describing the situation I found myself in other than saying that God spoke to me! And I know how crazy that sounds because I grew up thinking the same. In fact, the cynic in me is probably still more likely to lean towards hearing God’s voice as a sign of mental breakdown than of divine revelation.
Yet, this is my story. As I say, I grew up the son of a ‘preacher man’ (to coin a phrase), and faced the usual comments from usually well-meaning folk, asking, “When are you going to follow your dad into the ministry?” In my late teens and early twenties my stock answer was that “the only kind of minister I plan on being is the kind who sits on a green leather bench.”
However, as my non-political career developed, I found myself in a job that I loved, working with a team of people I loved working with. It’s important to know that – I’d done jobs I didn’t enjoy, but I loved this one. Then, one afternoon, sat alone in my office, at my desk, working on a particularly exciting project, I heard a voice in my head say, “You should be a minister.” Now, I could have ignored this. It was, after all, a nonsense – I was doing a job I loved and heading in a good direction both in terms of work and social life. Why would I let go of all of this to head in an entirely new, and to my way of thinking entirely undesired, direction?
Yet the voice was insistent, and I took it seriously precisely because I could not consider it my own voice – I would never have said that! So, as stupid as I thought it sounded, I told my then-girlfriend (now wife), my minister, my dad, some friends I trusted (faithful, agnostic and atheist). None denied the idea was somewhat amusing, but also none suggested it was unreasonable. So here I am, closing in on 20 years later, an ordained minister, in circuit for over 11 of those years.
Since then, I’ve continued to hear voices – as a depressive and sufferer of anxiety, Black Dog’s voice is a familiar one, sometimes quiet and sometimes overwhelmingly loud; my own voice is also familiar to me as someone who has a very keen internal monologue; and there are the voices of those who have helped or hindered me down the years, who continue to echo around my mind. But only that once would I say I heard the voice of God speak straight to me.
The journey since has not been easy, but I know what I heard, and I will never regret listening to what it said. And I keep listening, just in case…
Lyrics
I think I spoke too soon It’s time to clear the air It’s quiet in my room The silence is unfair
I’ve been hearing voices None of them are you I’ve been hearing voices None of them are you
Late at night, I tell myself Nothing this good could last forever
No one cries like you No one cries like you
I’ve been hearing voices I’ve been hearing voices now I’ve been hearing voices None of them are you None of them are you None of them are you None of them are you
I’ve seen you in the moon I wish that you were here You promised me your word A whisper in my ear
Every night, I tell myself Nothing like you could last forever
No one cries like you No one cries like you No one lies like you No one lies like you
I’ve been hearing voices I’ve been hearing voices now I’ve been hearing voices None of them are you None of them are you None of them are you None of them are you
Speak to me, my love Speak to me, my love
I’ve been hearing voices None of them are you I’ve been hearing voices None of them are you
If anybody has watched the Louis Theroux documentary with Stormzy, you’ll know that in it Stormzy talks candidly about his life and his battles with poor mental health. Watching it, you get the sense when Stormzy talks about being broken and afraid, it’s real. This is somebody who has been there and has integrity.
When I first heard ‘Blinded by Your Grace Part Two’ I could fully relate to the lyrics and knew that Stormzy was authentic because I’d been there too.
If we go back to the first Sunday of the new millennium, 2 January 2000, I was a single mum living on benefits; having escaped having my flat repossessed by the skin of my teeth. I had spent a couple of years completely broken, suffering reactive depression and being afraid of life and my ability to cope.
I walked into a church and saw that they were giving out stickers that had a Bible verse on saying, “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’ (Jeremiah 29:11)”. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. For me at that point plans to prosper went about as far as it being a good week for offers in Iceland and Sainsbury’s.
To cut a long storyshort, I decided to say to God, “Okay, if this sticker means anything I’m going to hold you to it.” Nine months later I went back to university to study for a PGCE, and started a new life, just me and my daughter, halfway across the country from our family.
When I look back at those times and think about the nightmare my life was – a totally broken mess – I see the journey I’ve been on. I, too, am blinded by God’s grace and the way he has been with me, helping me rebuild my life. Yes, I needed to do my bit, but God did fix my life and has been with me as I’ve moved forward. Some of that has involved God working through the right medication but it’s also been a whole lot more that I can’t describe. The key thing is that I’m no longer afraid.
So, when I heard this song for the first time, I immediately got it. You know when someone else has been ‘there’; not through the same experience but has felt that level of pain and hopelessness and come out the other side, so thankful that they’re not in that place anymore. That’s what the lyrics of this song express to me.
Lyrics
I’m Blinded By Your Grace (By Your Grace) I’m Blinded By Your Grace, by your grace (By Your Grace) I’m Blinded By Your Grace (By Your Grace) I’m Blinded By Your (By Your)
Lord I’ve been broken Although I’m not worthy You fixed me I’m Blinded By Your Grace You came and saved me
Lord I’ve been broken Although I’m not worthy You fixed me Now I’m Blinded By Your Grace You came and saved me
One time for the Lord And one time for the cause And one round of applause One time for Fraser T Smith on the chords I think we got one, I stay prayed up then I get the job done Yeah, I’m Abigail’s yout, but I’m God’s son But I’m up now, look at what God’s done Now I real talk, look at what God did On the main stage runnin’ ’round topless I phone Flipz then I tell him that we got this This is God’s plan, they can never stop this
Like, wait right there, could you stop my verse? You saved this kid and I’m not your first It’s not by blood and it’s not by birth But oh my God, what a God I serve
Lord I’ve been broken Although I’m not worthy You fixed me I’m Blinded By Your Grace You came and saved me
Lord I’ve been broken Although I’m not worthy You fixed me Now I’m Blinded By Your Grace You came and saved me
I said a prayer this morning I prayed I would find a way To another day, I was so afraid ‘Til you came and saved, you came and saved me And the rain was pouring, ’cause the sun faded away
Now I’m in a better place, no longer afraid Blinded By Your Grace, you came and saved me, yeah
I said a prayer this morning, I prayed I would find a way
To another day, I was so afraid ‘Til you came and saved, you came and saved me
And the rain was pouring, ’cause the sun faded away Now I’m in a better place, no longer afraid Blinded By Your Grace, you came and saved me, yeah
Lord I’ve been broken Although I’m not worthy You fixed me I’m Blinded By Your Grace You came and saved me
Lord I’ve been broken Although I’m not worthy You fixed me Now I’m Blinded By Your Grace You came and saved me
We would love to hear about how this song made you feel. Make sure you share your thoughts with us on social media, by tagging our account on X (formally Twitter), Facebook, Instagram or TikTok and using #OutOfTheOrdinary.
Clarification – For our reflection on the 14 December, Adela Samayoa was introduced as a Mission Partner. While Adela is a greatly valued member of our partner Church in El Salvador and a partner in our shared mission with God, she is not part of the Mission Partner programme of the Methodist Church in Britain. Our apologies for any confusion caused.
Wherever you are in life, there’s a place for you at church. From Sundayservices to events during the week, we’d love to welcome you.
Sometimes I feel powerless in the face of all that’s happening in the world – inequality, conflict, injustice, hunger, greed, exploitation. I can see there is so much that needs to be different, better.
“I see the kids in the street, with not enough to eat. Who am I… pretending not to see their needs?”
When I get overwhelmed like that, I find it helps to remember that the only thing that I can change is myself.
Michael Jackson sings about “starting with the man in the mirror.” Now for me, that’s the woman in the mirror. It’s me whose ways have to change. Me who has to stand up and do something differently.
“No message could have been any clearer, if you want to make the world a better place take a look at yourself and make that change.”
That change for me is often about sharing more of what I have; speaking up instead of staying silent and being more open to how other people experience things differently from me, rather than only seeing things from my perspective. I think it’s true that “when you close your heart then you close your mind.”
I was in town once when I saw a couple of young people who appeared to be vandalising a phone box. I then wondered if I was jumping to conclusions and went over to see what was going on. It turned out that they were stuck inside, and so I learned a lesson in reflecting on first impressions.
In my work I am responsible for leading unconscious bias training, which is all about noticing what is going on with our thinking and reactions and making an intentional effort to change assumptions. By making these kinds of changes I think we get to show more love and respect for each other, and so be more as God would like us to be – to be our best selves.
“Gonna feel real good, gonna make a difference.”
Lyrics
I’m gonna make a change For once in my life It’s gonna feel real good Gonna make a difference Gonna make it right
As I, turn up the collar on My favorite winter coat This wind is blowin’ my mind I see the kids in the street With not enough to eat Who am I, to be blind pretending not to see their needs?
A summer’s disregard A broken bottle top And a one man’s soul They follow each other on the wind ya know ‘Cause they got nowhere to go That’s why I want you to know
I’m starting with the man in the mirror I’m asking him to change his ways And no message could’ve been any clearer If they wanna make the world a better place Take a look at yourself and then make a change
I’ve been a victim of a selfish kind of love It’s time that I realize That there are some with no home Not a nickel to loan Could it be really me pretending that they’re not alone?
A willow deeply scarred Somebody’s broken heart And a washed out dream (washed out dream) They follow the pattern of the wind, ya see ‘Cause they got no place to be That’s why I’m starting with me
I’m starting with the man in the mirror (oh) I’m asking him to change his ways (oh) And no message could’ve been any clearer If you wanna make the world a better place Take a look at yourself and then make a change
I’m starting with the man in the mirror (oh) I’m asking him to change his ways (oh) And no message could’ve been any clearer If you wanna make the world a better place Take a look at yourself and then make that Change
I’m starting with the man in the mirror (oh yeah) I’m asking him to change his ways (better change) No message could’ve been any clearer (If you wanna make the world a better place) (Take a look at yourself and then make the change)
You can’t (Then you close your) close your, your mind With the man in the mirror, oh yeah I’m asking him to change his ways (better change) No message could’ve been any clearer If you wanna make the world a better place Take a look at yourself and then make a change
gonna feel real good now
I’m gonna make a change It’s gonna feel real good Come on (change) Just lift yourself You know You’ve got to stop it Yourself (yeah)
I’ve got to make that change today (Man in the mirror) you got to You got to not let yourself brother (Yeah) you know (Make that change) I’ve got to get that man, that man
You’ve got to You’ve got to move Come on Come on You got to Stand up, stand up (yeah, make that change) Stand up
Stand up and lift Yourself, now (Man in the mirror)
Gonna make that change come on (Man in the mirror)You know it
You know it You know it You know Change Make that change
The Friday Fix 