Michael writes:

For centuries in the West, artists of all mediums have explored the darker side of socialisation. Be it William Blake and the romanticists, Oscar Wilde and the aesthetics, Stewart Lee and the so-called ‘liberal-elites’, Banksy and his fellow punk-satirists or – in this case – Supertramp and the hippy culture from which they emerged, there are countless artists and movements who have trodden the path towards status-quo rejection. Often, on their way, they set up dichotomies between apparently competing notions: freedom vs conformity, childlike wonder vs adult cynicism, creativity vs progress, magic vs rationalism, individuality vs imperialism.

‘The Logical Song’ follows a similar road. It laments the desolation of the singer’s wide-eyed childhood by establishment education. Their sense of wonder and beauty has been all but stamped out. Where once there was an openness to the magical and miraculous, now there is only clinical – even cynical – intellectualism. The song’s conclusion is that, in its pursuit of progress and the maintenance of the status quo, society has raised up individuals who have lost all sense of self. Their identities have been so diluted in the name of sensibility, responsibility and dependability that they’ve become vegetables who have no idea who they really are. Their education, ironically, has led to them learning nothing.

It is a well-worn trope. And one I have identified with and expressed myself at various times too. But I’m not convinced it is necessarily helpful to take such an un-nuanced axe to the tree of socialisation. I’d like to raise two quick points of reflective pushback on this song and one point of praise:

1) We have been created for collectivism.

Within this song, and works of art like it, there is an inherent individualism at play; an ideology that is suspicious of collectives and considers them a threat to personal liberty. In contrast, the history of Judeo-Christian thought has placed great value on the collective. After all – it is not good for us to be alone. It is in the bonds of relationship that we have our best hope of founding a just and caring society. There is, therefore, a place for responsibility, practicality, dependability. In fact, not just a place, a great need for this. These are amongst the greatest resources of humanity. Our lives and prospects are significantly improved when we can draw upon them. As such, we shouldn’t resent the call from others to develop these in ourselves too. Developing the knowledge, skills necessary to exist well within and – where possible – contribute towards the collective requires no level of education. This might feel uncomfortable. It might even feel like losing something of our childlike simplicity. But is that childlike simplicity a virtue requiring eternal preservation? Surely, there is a need for us to no longer think and reason like children, but to grow and mature. Is socialisation really the enemy? Or is our true enemy the rejection of reality in pursuit of romanticised naivety?

2) The use of personal freedom in the service of others is what fullness of life is all about.

If we believe that Jesus was the ultimate example of human being – the firstborn of creation, the design pattern for all of life – then we are at our most human when we’re prepared to utilise our individualism in service to others. That doesn’t mean we have to set aside or lose ourselves when we take up the call to become learned, responsible, practical, dependable, etc. Rather, we gain the opportunity to express our individualism in a self-sacrificial way. Neither leads us into a vegetative or cynical state. Instead, paradoxically, I think it helps us recover a sense of the beauty and wonder of life; as we lay down our lives, we discover and experience a new vision of what ‘fullness of life’ means. And it is truly precious, magical – even miraculous!

3) The collective is there for the thriving of the individual.

What this song does get right is its critique of the abuse of individuals in the name of preserving the status quo of the collective. As I’ve outlined, I believe that individuals are made for community, but the community is reciprocally there for the benefit of its individuals. Societies are never perfect and should never be static. History, culture and lived experiences are constantly evolving. So therefore, should communities and their practices be.

This process of collective development requires voices of critique. There is a deep need for prophets who challenge and shape and develop society through creativity, lateral thinking. To serve a community this way is an act of great sacrifice, which should not lead to unfair demonization. The use of labels such as ‘liberal’ or ‘radical’ can be an unkind way of silencing those who might be exactly what the community need.

I sympathise and resonate with the words of this song. But increasingly I feel the need to critique art on the basis of how careful its engagement with a subject matter is. In this instance, I want to suggest that there is more to the story than Supertramp suggest. Despite their conclusions, I’d suggest my desire to be a bit more logical about this particular matter actually propels me into a sense of wonder and beauty about the calling to give myself for the collective. And as I do this I believe I will discover who I truly am.

—

*PS: As a child of the 90’s I have a confession to make… despite the fact that Supertramp are a major band in the history of pop-rock I only came to be aware of this remarkable song thanks to Scooter sampling the first 4 lines for a (baffling pro-Siberia) clubbing anthem in 2002. That version of the song is substantially less philosophical but still worthy of a shout-out and a listen! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4YxTa1AUqps

Gill writes:

Well, it’s that time of the year again. Time for the musical event filled with flamboyance, politics and kitsch. For some, it’s an automatic cue to turn off BBC1 and grumble about a music contest taking over the whole channel for an evening; for others, it’s a celebration of eclectic fashion, diverse music, amazing production, and most of all, diversity and inclusion.

We embrace it in our home. It’s been a staple for me since Bucks Fizz won in 1981, and my first ever Friday Fix was about ‘Love Shine a Light’ by Katrina and the Waves. Whatever you think about Eurovision, you can’t deny that it has introduced us to some great, timeless songs over the years. Where would we be without Cliff’s ‘Congratulations’, Dana’s ‘All Kinds of Everything’, Lulu’s ‘Boom Bang a Bang’, and Abba’s ‘Waterloo’ for a start…

Today’s song was the winning entry in 2015. My favourite that year was Estonia’s entry ‘Goodbye to Yesterday’ but who am I to know anything about choosing a Eurovision winner – my favourite rarely ever wins! However, ‘Heroes’ came up as the overall family favourite when all our votes were counted.

As is often the case with a Eurovision winner, there’s more depth to the song than you initially think. The light show that accompanies the song gives a visual narration. The little character that Måns interacts with on the screen is actually himself as a child. According to Måns, he was bullied at school until a new child joined the class. This child, the ‘hero’ in the song, helped Måns to recognise his own worth and helped to build his confidence.

He said go dry your eyes
And live your life like there is no tomorrow

Sometimes we are our own worst enemy. We underestimate what we are capable of, or we place our own obstacles in the way. We look for problems to prevent us from being who we are, instead of solutions that will free us to be who we were made to be. We dance with the demons in our minds.

We are the heroes of our time
Heroes

But we’re dancing with the demons in our minds
Heroes

I wonder who your heroes are? Who are the people who have lifted you up and carried you to the place where you can take it from there? Who are the ones who stood alongside and faced adversity with you head-on? Who is the person who helped you appreciate what you were capable of? Who are the ones, or one, that changed your life?

He said I never left your side
When you were lost I followed right behind
Was your foundation

Has it ever occurred to you that you might be someone’s hero? You may have had a truly privileged moment when you’ve been told ‘I couldn’t have done it without you.’ You may crop up in an old friend’s conversation about how you helped them reach an important decision. Somebody who you haven’t seen since your schooldays may still talk about the time that you stuck up for them in the gym changing rooms. Who knows? They do. Those people that hold you as a hero in their lives. They know.

If you want to know what Måns Zelmerlöw is doing these days, you can visit his website at https://manszelmerlow.se/mans-zelmerlow/

Showing our age today!

We’re on the lookout for more Friday Fixes so ‘why don’t you’ have a go at writing one for us?

All you need to do is think about why you’ve been singing that song in the shower each morning this week – or why that track is endlessly on your playlist. Jot down why you like it. Is there a funny or poignant story associated with it? Does it make you want to spring into action? Did it change your life or the way that you think about things?

Go and switch off your television set and go and do something less boring instead by writing a Friday Fix and send it to Gill at thomasg@methodistchurch.org.uk.

Gill writes:

I have a lot to thank Rachel Held Evans (RHE) for. She gave me and thousands of others, the confidence to question, to wander, and to wonder about their faith in God and the church that they belonged to. Her book ‘Searching for Sunday’ follows the story of her searching for her ‘church tribe’ – a community of believers where she could feel both at home and on holy ground.

It’s three years this week since RHE died, and she still nudges people to deconstruct their faith. For many, it can be an upsetting and disruptive process that can take years as they start to ponder what they truly believe about God, Jesus, faith, and spirituality. For many going through deconstructing their faith, it can feel like they’ve been cast adrift or are being carried along with something that just doesn’t feel completely true anymore. Some might even think that they’ve been ‘stupid for a while.’

Knew the signs
Wasn’t right
I was stupid for a while
Swept away by you
And now I feel like a fool
So confused
My heart’s bruised
Was I ever loved by you?

Some are rejected by their church for questioning and doubting. Some are made to feel like they are doing the rejecting – here are the people who they grew up with, learned together with, shared with and all of a sudden (or perhaps over quite some time), they don’t feel like they quite fit any longer. It begins to feel as though what you knew well and anchored your faith isn’t what you thought it was.

Out of reach, so far
I never had your heart
Out of reach
Couldn’t see
We were never
Meant to be

For some who come from more fundamental or conservative evangelical circles, it can be incredibly painful to deconstruct faith. They are not only rejected by their church but can find themselves on the receiving end of some aggressive behaviour from those who they thought loved them.

So much hurt
So much pain
Takes a while
To regain
What is lost inside
And I hope that in time
You’ll be out of my mind
And I’ll be over you

But now I’m
So confused
My heart’s bruised
Was I ever loved by you?

There’s a whole lot of fear around deconstructing your faith. Fear of the unknown. Fear of losing the familiar. Fear of being different and vulnerable.

Deconstructing your faith is not about destroying it – it’s actually part of deepening it. It’s about letting go of restrictions and cultures of church that are more concerned with doing things in a certain way. It’s about being concerned with doing right, rather than being right. It’s about doubting and questioning because when this happens, you are really grappling with deeper stuff.

Our churches need to be spaces that allow testing and trying out; of doubting and opting out; of asking questions that make all of us feel uncomfortable – and of loving people all the more when they are doing so. People may move from one fold to another one. That’s okay because they are safe; that’s okay because they feel like they belong where they can flourish and love God all the more.

If they are loved and cherished and move to pastures new, we can take heart that we cared for them and they are following where God is leading them.

In my reach, I can see
There’s a life out there
For me

You can find out what Gabrielle is doing at https://gabrielle.co.uk/