I thought it might be time to welcome those of you who have found your way here because you have followed the ‘Everyday Faith’ journey – ‘Striking a Chord.’
For those who aren’t aware, I was invited to put ten reflections together for our siblings in the Church of England as part of their Everyday Faith portal. I, therefore, tweaked the reflections that I have done for the Friday Fix to create the journey of daily thoughts and prayers.
The first reflection, however, is one that I hadn’t done for the Friday Fix and so I thought you might like to see how we kicked off the journey. Here we go:
Have you ever seen the film, August Rush? There are these great lines in it that go “You know what music is? God’s little reminder that there’s something else besides us in this universe, a harmonic connection between all living beings, everywhere, even the stars.”
Popular music of any kind can help us to explore and question our beliefs, or it can help to shape our understanding of God and the world that we live in, or it can give voice to our passions and concerns about what it is to be human.
Music brings people together. It triggers memories and connections. It expresses thoughts and feelings for those who struggle to do so. It can change lives. It can be the best way of connecting with the Divine. Music is a gift from God.
One of the most well-known songs by the pop group, Abba, is ‘Thank You for the Music’. It could almost be a prayer for those of us who hear God speaking through music and lyrics. Any kind of music that is – not just hymns, choral songs and psalms.
‘Thank you for the music,
The songs I’m singing
Thanks for all the joy they’re bringing
Who can live without it?
I ask in all honesty
What would life be?
Without a song or a dance
What are we?
So I say thank you for the music
For giving it to me’
Do you hear God speaking to you through music and lyrics? If you do, which songs are the ones that might have shaped or influenced your faith? If you haven’t, think about the songs that you like to play (or sing) when you’re happy, sad, angry or worried. Why do you play them? How do they make you feel? Might God be in there somewhere?
When I think of a lament, I think dirge – a combination of whinging, wailing, and gnashing of teeth, put to music. Not so with Oliver “Tuku” Mtukudzi’s collaboration with Bonnie Raitt, ‘Hear Me Lord.’
Mtukudzi, the Zimbabwean artist known for his husky voice and commitment to justice, died in January 2019. As critic Terence Blacker notes, Tuku challenged realities such as AIDS and poverty with a knack for filling even the bleakest topics with hope. He was averse to analysing his own lyrics, but seemed able to articulate the universal ache of the heart and the longing for God. Mtukudzi’s directness, penned in the chorus of this song, may encourage our own prayers to be shorter, and our church liturgies less wordy.
Hear Me, Lord
Hear me I pray
Hear me, Lord
Help me now (Help me Lord, I’m feeling low)
Help me Lord, help me now (Help me Lord, I’m feeling low)
Raitt, the American blues singer, songwriter and guitarist, recalls a band member turning her on to Mtukudzi’s music. This particular song, she writes, “used to get so much play on our late night bus rides, I just decided to cut it on the next album, so we could play it live every night”. She teamed up with Tuku in 2002 to do just that.
The link below above the unlikely duo in concert at an Austin City Limits concerts some years later. One aspect of this live recording that I particularly appreciate is the way that the artists share the melody, lyrics, and spotlight. Even as they sing in the first person…
I am down on my knees (Help me Lord, I’m feeling low)
…they alternate voices, almost like passing the baton of honesty between them, and giving one another a breather in the role as cantor. Just when we envision lament as a solo and lonely cri di coeur, we are reminded that it can also rise from the combined effort of a band, a group of friends, or a community of faith.
I recently heard the Christian theologian Rev. Dr. Willie James Jennings talk about dismantling racism. He spoke of committing ourselves ‘to the great work of hope’. For Jennings, hope is not a sentiment. Rather, it is a discipline. The scriptures invite us to hope, even command us to hope. With disciplined marching orders like those, it is a gift when others can get us tapping our feet while doing it. And with the help of artists like Mtukudzi and Raitt, we might even find ourselves dancing.
I haven’t quite been snared by the ‘wild swimming’ bug like some of my friends have been. My social media feeds over the last couple of years have been increasingly peppered with images of friends in swimsuits, wetsuits, and a glamourous array of swimming hats. They are diving into plunge pools at the foot of waterfalls, or emerging from misty lakes, or walking towards a grey sea with a bunch of swimming buddies arm in arm.
Of course, I have considered succumbing to the bug. I do like swimming. I do like paddling in waves. I’ve always enjoyed building dams and striding through shallow rivers. However, I don’t like creatures swimming anywhere near me (this is the woman who ventured into Lake Galilee, took one look at all the fish, and walked straight back to the swimming pool). And I don’t like ‘deep.’ I think I am as much scared of depth as I am of heights. I once had to swim a race at Wigan International Pool (now gone) which was a 50m pool with a 5m deep end. I’d never been so fast at the beginning of a race as I was that day.
This song, however, took me to the seawater pool at Southport on the first time of hearing it. Possibly not in January as the song suggests but there were days in May and June when you couldn’t feel your hands or feet
Red bikini, running, slipping Get your stuff, we’re going swimming In January I can’t feel my feet or my hands Making me watch you do handstands Is this why you brought me?
I love it when a song conjures up nostalgic feelings where we can place our own images onto it. You don’t have to be from the north-west to understand handstands in water and shivering until the warmth of towels and clothes take effect. Of course, the rest of the song takes me further down memory lane as it’s all about Liverpool (where the band are from) – a pool where I would happily drown.
Don’t let me down If you listen, there’s a beautiful sound In a cold north western town We found a pool where we’d happily drown I wish I was there right now
One of the phrases that have crept into our vocabulary fairly recently is ‘making memories.’ I can’t say that I warm to it really. There’s something a bit too ‘consumerist’ in it for me, and it goes hand in hand with visiting a place because it looks good on Instagram. Perhaps I’m too much of a cynical Gen X-er but this phrase attributed to AA Milne (but probably not from him at all) works better for me – ‘We didn’t realise we were making memories, we were just having fun.’
I do concede, however, that it’s important to stop and savour the moment. We can be so caught up analyzing yesterday or preparing for tomorrow that we are not actually living in the present and noticing the small moments. I can’t, therefore, argue with the intentionality of ‘making memories.’ I think that great memories in our lives are of moments when all of our senses are engaged; we feel valued and loved; and we feel connected with others.
This song captures these feelings for me because my memories of living in Liverpool are full of love, laughter, new experiences, adventures and feeling liberated. It goes without saying that watching the video is no less nostalgic for me.
And because I was living in the moment so much, I can appreciate those days with lots of affection without a desperate yearning to go back to those times and places. They were special there and then; it wouldn’t be the same if I returned to try and recapture it all. After all, I am too busy living where I am right now.
Happiness Researcher (yes, it is an actual job) Meik Wiking says in his book ‘The Art of Making Memories’ – “As long as you live, keep learning how to live. And remember: one day, your life will flash before your eyes – make sure it is worth watching.”
I hope this summer is a time where you are blessed with moments of feeling connected, noticed, and loved. Go ahead and make some memories – and take time to be in the moment.
My dad was 90 a few weeks ago, and my mum was 87 last month. They’ve lived happy and fulfilled lives, but I’m increasingly aware that we are all vulnerable and that they won’t be around forever. I’m trying to speak with them on the phone and see them as much as I can. I don’t want to have regrets about not spending time with them when they are no longer here.
I also want to keep doing the things that bring me life in all its fullness, recognising this is not a free pass to an entirely selfish existence. I’ve still got stories to write about. Music I want to play and listen to. Places I want to visit. Books I want to read. But time – and more often than not, energy – often seems in short supply. Money is not always available to do the things I’d like in these troubled economic times.
I’ve also got struggles I’d love to heal. Relationships I’d love to grow. Unfulfilled dreams I’d like to see become a reality. On top of that I’d love to spend more time and energy campaigning and acting on behalf of refugees, young people and those in need of a bit of help. I’d like to take more political action over the things I’m passionate about to see transformation in our broken world.
However, the pandemic has left a trail of trauma and loss which can sometimes lead to a paralysis of thought and action if I’m not careful. It’s too easy to end up sitting watching TV and doing nothing. I also need to balance my own wants and desires with those of others. All-in-all, life can be a bit of a challenge … and that leads me to the song I’ve been impacted by of late …
It’s a song from American Country artist, Cody Johnson, that talks about taking chances in life rather than waiting until they’re gone for good. The chorus has particularly spoken to me:
If you got a chance, take it,
take it while you got a chance
If you got a dream, chase it,
’cause a dream won’t chase you back
If you’re gonna love somebody
Hold ’em as long and as strong and as close as you can
‘Til you can’t
I’ve always believed that our best dreams come from God and my quest in the coming season is to try and line up what I want, with want God wants. For me, that means better following the advice in the song and taking every chance that comes my way, believing that God opens the doors, orchestrates great possibilities, and offers divine invitations. My part is to be on the lookout for when it’s God, and discerning in how I respond to what comes before me.
I need to do the loving and say the ‘love-you’s’ now. If I find something that needs fixing, I need to fix it now. Where I get things wrong, I hope that I can say the ‘sorries’ now. And even when I’m tired and grumpy – which can be often – I need to take and make the phone calls now, just in case there comes a time when I’m not able to. In the words of the song, I don’t want to kick things ‘further down the road’ and ‘wait on tomorrow’ …
If you got a chance, take it
If you got a dream, chase it
I like this live version of the song best – turn it up loud!
Turin Brakes are one of my absolute favourite bands. They have a great sound and they are equally good whether channeling their gentle rock style or their fabulous acoustic harmonious selves. They also write a mean lyric. What’s not to love.
You only need to begin to pay attention to the news, or indeed look outside your window at your scorched lawn and thirsty plants, to see the world is struggling with a changing climate. Floods and drought equally destructive to people’s homes and livelihoods. Melting glaciers falling on unsuspecting tourists. No snow where there should be some. Forty shades of green becoming forty shades of brown. No crops leading to the starvation of millions. I could go on.
This song speaks for itself. The wondering about what is ours to do and how many people have to struggle before we pay proper attention. When will it be too late and why aren’t we able to jump right in now.
Soon, it seems, there may be only one person left to notice the end of the world and by then it will be too late for humanity
God was careful enough to be a creator of a world where everyone and everything could flourish. Not simply exist but be the best they could be. I guess the question is when will we wake up and make a difference for the billions with their backs already against the wall and not wait til it gets to us before we act.
Maybe pay extra attention to the news this week. Whenever you see a story linked to the climate make some effort to act for good change now. Small or large. You know it makes sense. You know it will be a part of serving the God you love and loving the planet we live on.
Please note: there’s some strobe lighting towards the end of the video about 2.45 mins in for around 15 seconds
Gill writes:
Well – if someone had told my teenage self that a-ha would still be making music 37 years later, I would have probably been a bit put out. Why would people be wanting to listen to a band of 60-somethings for goodness sake? I used to be of the opinion that pop bands should retire by the age of 40. I definitely would have been horrified to hear that an 80-year-old Paul McCartney was headlining at Glastonbury! How my mind and attitude have changed since then – thankfully.
a-ha released this song a week ago, and not a day has gone by so far when I haven’t given it a listen. It’s classic a-ha – Morten’s striking voice and a melody that seems so familiar it pulls you in. I suppose it has a touch of ‘Hunting High and Low’ about it. But it’s the lyrics that I gravitate to – for me, it makes the song feel like a great, big hug.
The last year has been full of peaks and troughs personally, and there have been times when taking a breath and pushing myself forward has been a little bit of an effort. ‘This too shall pass’ as Tom Hanks would say; ‘Good times after these’ as a-ha would sing.
Give in Don’t give up Breathe Don’t you stop
Breathe in Just breathe There are times Good times after these
There are some challenges in life that we don’t choose. We have no control over them and what the outcome might be. It’s often at these times when we discover the person or people who say ‘I’m in.’ They choose to rock up and weather the storm with you. They decide that walking alongside you is worth the effort. They realise that they are called to be your emotional crutch for a while. They are bringing love and strength to a time and place when it is truly needed.
Whatever you want or need Wherever you have to be Whatever you have to believe I’m in Begin
Some people astound me with their capacity to love and to commit to something difficult – to say ‘I’m in.’ The young woman who says ‘Yes, I will marry you’ when her partner has been diagnosed with a terminal illness; the new father who commits to addressing his issues with alcohol; the grandmother who commits to climate change activism in the hope of a better world for her grandchildren; the brother who takes on a daunting fundraising challenge for a charity that supports his sister’s recovery from illness.
Never give up Never you stop Don’t let the forces that pull us apart Think they can win
Just believe Whatеver they say Therе is a door to a future unseen Leading this way
Love is an amazing gift, isn’t it?
What better than to leave you with the words of Magne (the keyboard player), who wrote the song. He says it is
“a song about total commitment and a show of support for someone who is troubled. Real commitment is a leap of faith. Everyone knows how difficult it can be to offer commitment and support unconditionally, but this is what it takes to make anything worthwhile happen – love, friendship, change, self-improvement, careers, a better world. Easier said than done of course but it begins with an attitude, then uttering the words. After this it is all hard work to realize whatever potential your commitment has in the world. Without this attitude everything just gets bogged down with conflicting thoughts, doubts and fear. Just say it: ‘I’m in’.” (https://a-ha.com/news/new-single-im-in-drops-on-8-july)
Find out more about a-ha at http://www.a-ha.com – they have a new album on the way.
I loved 1984. I think it was my first real experience with dystopian literature and worlds. I think there’s something in those things that get written, or filmed, that we go on to consume that make us believe their fantastical and gold for the world we live in, but if they’re really good then there’s something about them that make us just a little bit afraid of what could be… Muse used 1984-style vibes and influences in their 2009 album “The Resistance”, and I loved it.
One thing I’ve always appreciated about them as a band is their ability to make new and different music every album, and so when I first heard “Compliance” I was a little bit disappointed as it felt like I had heard it before, but then I remembered how much I loved “The Resistance” as an album, and it was fine!
But I listened to it and then started listening to “The Handmaid’s Tale” and “The Testaments”, and the combination is scary. I wonder how close we could be in places in the world to dystopian realities rather than fantasies, and how we might be sold them in line with the idea of religion or freedom…
I wonder how many of us would fall foul to a proposed regime that offered us “no pain anymore”, or promises that we “won’t feel lost anymore”? That we won’t be burdened by choice, that we’ll be protected, not rejected, the hurt will be taken away and someone else will give us what’s best for us?
What would we say to the offer of not having to fear anymore, and that we can be saved, and all we need to do is show compliance?
The sad reality is that for years that’s been the party line in Christian rhetoric in many places.
It’s a struggle, but I think we need to show some defiance and resilience and keep going with the pain and the lost-ness, the choice and the fear, and to maintain our freedom rather than choosing the compliance sung about here.
God is about choice and freedom, both “His” and ours, and about the liberation of others too. It’s in choosing that life that we find ourselves being saved.