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.
I’m sure, like me, you have found yourself at some point in your life caught up in a situation where, although things don’t feel quite right, you can’t seem to prise yourself away from it to move on. It may be a set of circumstances that has been imposed on you and from which you see no escape; it may be a friendship with someone who seems to suck the joy out of life; it may be a place where you don’t feel safe or where you can be yourself.
Although this is a classic ‘break-up’ song from Gabrielle, I think the meaning of it can be also be applied to any situation or relationship that has needed to come to an end. A career move; a move to another house, or town, or country; that bittersweet and gradual transition from childhood to adulthood; a decision to end a friendship or relationship; a congregation having to decide to close their church.
Endings are a big thing aren’t they? They can be sudden and a shock to the system; they can be planned and carefully thought through; they can be welcomed and anticipated with excitement or enthusiasm; or they can be consistently avoided until there’s no other way than to bring things to an end.
The verses in ‘Rise’ capture the key emotions of a period of transition. The first verse is all about disbelief, denial and a touch of scepticism; verse two is all about processing; unpicking and coming to an understanding of what is happening; and verse three is acceptance and starting to move on.
It’s funny really that we can be so resistant to change when fundamentally that is what life is. “It is when we are in transition that we are most completely alive.” says William Bridges. It’s when we question, push back, wonder, learn and grow.
I’m not keen on the saying that ‘God doesn’t give us anything we can’t handle’ or that ‘everything happens for a reason.’ What I do see is that it’s the richness of life’s experiences and the moments of doubt, insecurity and worry that can lead us to a place of hope. If we embrace these times and wrestle with them, it can truly be a time for growth and understanding – and who knows where that may lead us.
One of the messages that we hear every year during Advent and Christmas is ‘Fear not’. That’s what speaks to me in this song. You may have been laid low, and yet, there are hopes, and there are dreams, and there are bridges from these scenes and the opportunity to ‘rise’ again.
Lyrics
I know that it’s over But I can’t believe we’re through They say that time’s a healer, yeah And I’m better without you It’s gonna take time, I know But I’ll get over you
Look at my life Look at my heart I have seen them fall apart Now I’m ready to rise again Just look at my hopes Look at my dreams I’m building bridges from these scenes Now I’m ready to rise again
Caught up in my thinking, yeah Like a prisoner in my mind You pose so many questions That the truth was hard to find I better think twice I know That I’ll get over you
Look at my life Look at my heart I have seen them fall apart Now I’m ready to rise again Just look at my hopes Look at my dreams I’m building bridges from these scenes Now I’m ready to rise again
Much time has passed between us, hmm Do you still think of me at all? My world of broken promises You won’t catch me when I fall
Look at my life Look at my heart I have seen them fall apart And now I’m ready to rise again Just look at my hopes Look at my dreams I’m building bridges from these scenes Now I’m ready to rise again
Yes, I’m gonna rise Gonna make it alright I’m gonna be who I wanna be Yeah baby, yeah, yeah
I’m gonna make it alright I’m gonna make it alright…
As I typed that, I heard the voice of Sheena Easton singing it…
Anyhow.
For the next four weeks, the Friday Fix is going to be ‘Out Of The Ordinary’ and won’t drop a reflection each Friday. This is because a handful of our regular contributors were asked if they could write a reflection for the Methodist Church’s Advent campaign ‘Out of the Ordinary’ this year – and it makes much more sense to share those reflections as they are released each week.
So – for Advent only – look out for a ‘Saturday Shot’ instead!
I am a big fan of cover versions. This might be a controversial thing to say, since cover versions can somewhat divide opinions – among both musicians and fans – but it’s nonetheless true. There are those, such as the late Prince, that would argue that in no other art form is an artist so little in control of who can produce different versions of your intellectual property – if another musician pays for the appropriate mechanical licence there is generally nothing the original artist can do to stop an alternative version being performed, recorded, and distributed, even if the new version is disliked by the original composer or performer. Of course, proper acknowledgments need to be given, but beyond that, once you put music out there, any other artist can pretty much cover it any way they like without your say-so.
This can, of course, result in cover versions becoming better known than the original. For example, the late Sinéad O’Connor’s cover of Prince’s ‘Nothing Compares 2 U’ is undoubtedly better known than Prince’s own versions – the Irish woman certainly comes above the Minnesotan man in a Spotify search. Yet the debate will rage as to whether a cover version is actually better than the original. I’d personally argue that almost any cover of a Bob Dylan song is better than the original – because while I think Dylan is an amazing songwriter I don’t think he’s a great singer, but plenty of Dylan fans would passionately disagree with me, and I suspect Dylan would too!
Yet sometimes a cover version can almost indisputably be considered superior to an original, so much so that the song somehow becomes the property of the later artist. I would suggest that one such song is the Johnny Cash version of Nine Inch Nails’ ‘Hurt’. And if any NIN fans want to disagree then I’ll simply point out that Trent Reznor himself is on record in several places as saying that it’s Cash’s song now rather than his.
Recorded for the album, American IV: The Man Comes Around, in 2002, it was the video of the song released the following year that truly captured the imagination of critics and the popular music-listening population. In it, Cash takes an industrial rock track about the writer’s struggles with heroin addiction, and turns it into a meditation on life, love, faith and mortality (the mystique and emotion of Cash’s version is rooted in part by the reality that by the end of 2003 both Cash’s wife June Carter Cash and Johnny himself had both died from medical complications). Most notably, the conversion to a religious reflection comes as Cash changes just one word from the original, moving from singing about the wearing of a crown of “shit” to instead referencing one made of thorns.
For me, Cash’s incredible cover reminds me that nothing is irredeemable in this world. To be clear, I’m not sold on the idea Reznor’s original needs redemption, yet even those who might argue it does would struggle to argue against the idea that this is precisely what Cash has managed to do. Cover versions may be controversial, but their existence enables artists to offer new possibilities, challenge presumptions, and create new ways of engaging with the transcendent.
So anyone who knows me well knows I love this band. In fact, I have written about their work before as part of the Fix. Getting my tickets for the upcoming ‘Silence is Easy’ anniversary tour has made me very happy and brought on a lot of track re-visiting.
James Walsh’s distinctive voice is something that draws me in but also always the lyrical content and of course, the ever-present opening line…
But for the grace of God, she’d cry herself to sleep
It’s not news to me, it’s probably not news to you either if you follow the Fix regularly, that I am attracted to desperately complicated or sad songs. Those expressing deep emotions and I’m not averse to them leaving me desolate frankly. I’m also not under any illusion that it’s not everyone’s cup of tea.
My friend said to me once “Jane, you need to get a better playlist ‘cos this one’s not good for you” but I do think that sometimes letting your soul speak through music avoids hiding pain deep inside.
Despite appearances, this isn’t totally one of those songs because there is something really deep within it that talks about a change of perspective, a change of circumstance, and offers some sense of hope. I have no idea really why this girl is struggling so. Why she needs someone to sing to her. Why she is criticized so and needs someone to stick up for her. Why people feel so compassionate towards her. What or who has a hold over her.
All this not knowing makes me wonder about which character I am in the story, where the resonance sits and what I might sing to relieve the distress (answers on a postcard please). It also makes me wonder if I have any kind of handle on it at all! (Oh and I have a secret fear that whatever she is experiencing is because someone’s view of God is being forced on her and the blessings come when she can get away from the pressure. This fear I’m trying to bury)
But for the grace of God, she’d cry herself to sleep, Because the grace of God is something she can’t keep
Oh, it won’t be long until their hold is broken,
Oh it won’t be long until we’ve found our home
It’s for the good of you I sing sweet melody, They’ll cast the first stone when the last one’s out of reach
Oh, it won’t be long until their hold is broken, No, it won’t be long until we’ve found our home
Forget where to begin Mother, I have not sinned I have not…
The talk of God and all sorts of other biblical imagery ripple through this song like a stick of Blackpool rock. Just what is God is doing that’s so powerful to make a change and make her realise that the grace of God is something she can keep and brings relief.
But for the grace of God, she’d cry herself to sleep, But now the grace of God’s the reason that she weeps
When summer comes Light my life Snow will melt away
I was born again, I was born again, Not into the world they put me in
She was born again, she was born again, Not into the world they put her in
The hope and the spirit I’d rather not fear it
Being born again can be one of those glib Christian statements thrown around to describe a type of faith or a conversion experience. Biblically it’s part of a much deeper conversation around how to be wholly different. The need for a real new sense of perspective and that to see God’s kingdom and purpose revealed requires an acceptance of something beyond yourself. The spirit at work. A revelatory change.
I’ve dug around to see if the writer has ever explained this song and I can’t see anything. In a way that’s a good thing. The questions keep coming but it’s clear to me, from lyric and musical urgency, that something has changed and made a difference. If we could all grasp onto a bit of that deep change we’d maybe be living very different lives.
The last couple of days – All Saints Day (1st November) and All Souls Day (2nd November)- have become days that I have grown to love and cherish over the years. Maybe it’s because I’m getting older and I’ve lived long enough to say goodbye to a number of significant people who’ve helped shape and influence me. Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, Parents-in-Law, Family Friends, Peers. This time of year gives us permission to reflect, and more importantly, give thanks for those people.
It also gives us space to acknowledge those who have somehow influenced us, not because we knew them personally but because they have been role models or an inspiration to us. They might be people from ‘our time’ who had talent that we aspire to, or have had an impact on the way we’ve engaged with life, have entertained us or whose humanity and vulnerability has enabled us to recognise our own – recent ones who spring to mind are Sir Bobby Charlton, Glenda Jackson, Sinead O’Connor and Matthew Perry.
Or they may be people who lived way before our time, whose lives might be surrounded in myth and legend but who still somehow have an influence on the way we approach life. For me, I would probably include Julian of Norwich, St Cuthbert and St Hild of Whitby amongst my ‘saints.’
I have come to the conclusion that there are formal and informal saints in our lives. The recognised, canonised ones of the Christian church who some of us may warm to and others who may not; and our own personal ones who have walked alongside us on our life’s journey, lifting us up with their love and sagacity or holding us down with their wisdom and nurturing.
Lift me up Hold me down
Keep me close Safe and sound
You may know that this song is the lead single from the Marvel film ‘Black Panther: Wakanda Forever.’ You may also know that this song was written as a tribute to the late Chadwick Boseman, the beloved actor who played T’Challa, the Black Panther and King of Wakanda. Boseman’s untimely death at the age of 43 was particularly felt keenly by his colleagues and fans and when the decision was taken to make a second Black Panther film, the director, crew and actors were adamant that there needed to be the sense of loss in the film along with a strong feeling of hope.
Rihanna co-wrote this song with Nigerian artist, Tems, Ludwig Göransson (the composer of the Black Panther score) and the director Ryan Coogler. Tems said in an interview with Variety magazine that:
“After speaking with Ryan Coogler [the movie’s director] and hearing his direction for the film and the song, I wanted to write something that portrays a warm embrace from all the people that I’ve lost in my life. I tried to imagine what it would feel like if I could sing to them now and express how much I miss them.‘
For me, this song captures the feelings that grief and loss bring. That raw-ness and vulnerability of burning in an endless dream and drowning in an endless sea married with the warmth and strength in remembering – keep me in the warmth of your love and keep me in the strength of your arms.
Music never fails to amaze me at the way it can encapsulate human emotion. For me, this song genuinely captures the feelings and emotions of both grief and hope. It somehow expresses those feelings of not wanting to let go whilst at the same time exuding a sense of safety and acceptance. The song itself might be quite repetitive and simple, but somehow glimmers of joy can be traced within it.
In his book, Finding My Way Home, Henri Nouwen says, “Your whole life is filled with losses, endless losses. And every time there are losses there are choices to be made. You choose to live your losses as passages to anger, blame, hatred, depression, and resentment, or you choose to let these losses be passages to something new, something wider, and deeper. The question is not how to avoid loss and make it not happen, but how to choose it as a passage, as an exodus to a greater life of freedom.”
This month of November is a time in the year where we remember and give thanks for those who have died, yet they continue to live in our thoughts and our memories and our idiosyncrasies and our aspirations. I don’t know about you but I find that really comforting. Comfort and joy.
I well remember both occasions that I took the module on Liturgy & Music as part of my postgraduate worship studies. The first time I was on the slide into a major depressive crash, and the week of lectures did nothing to help, despite being a lover of music.
It seemed the week was full of auditors who were attending because they loved traditional “church music” – with a sense of elitist snobbery and perfectionism infecting almost all our conversations. My depression meant I failed to submit the required assignments, so two years later I re-took the module. On this occasion, we were asked to bring a piece of music with us that spoke to us of worship and faith.
Remembering the last time I’d attended, I deliberately took a secular piece. Once the week was over and I was researching my essay, I discovered the piece I then wished I’d taken instead – ‘Nazorean’ by Deuteronomium.
Were I able to have my time again with that first group of fellow students, I would sit them down and have them listen to ‘Nazorean’. This is no Tallis or Gibbons, Bach or Mozart, Rachmaninov or Pärt, yet the song is no less a devout and orthodox creed than those you would find in the work of classical composers more associated with religious work.
At 200 bpm and in a deep growl it recounts the credal description of Jesus’ death and resurrection and declares the singer a follower of Christ. It is a declaration of faith in a place and in a style that I suspect many might deny it could possibly exist.
My usual rock listening has generally only flirted with the edges of metal music. As with all genres nowadays, metal can be divided into many sub-genres, one of which is known as Death Metal – lots of high-speed bass drumming, pounding power chords, and growling lyrics of a usually somewhat macabre and/or nihilistic nature. Such music is particularly popular in Finland, to the extent that there is a further sub-genre of Finnish Death Metal. And, within that, one finds an even smaller genre – Christian Finnish Death Metal! This is the sub-sub-sub-genre of Deuteronomium.
‘Nazorean’, and indeed the whole album, ‘The Amen’, from which it comes, forms the manifesto for why I believe this blog matters – the Church, while declaring the love of God for all, and acknowledging that God is present everywhere, too easily and too often writes off certain parts of life and culture as beyond the pale, as antithetical to good theological thinking and faithful listening.
Yet it is my experience that it is precisely in those places that we find God revealed in new and challenging ways. If God can ignore the idea that material flesh is somehow beneath the divine and come to us incarnate in Christ, then God can certainly come to us in musical forms that we might have written off as disturbing, nihilistic, profane, and even, yes, satanic.
If we are, like Deuteronomium, to be followers of Christ then we have to be open to encountering him in the places we have previously written off – and that includes secular, popular music, including Death Metal, whether or not it’s of the Christian Finnish type or not!
The Friday Fix 