Tommy the Rock Opera

I am finally reviving my blog and I want anyone reading to know that the absence of posts for a while now has not occurred because I ran out of things to say! I have had some significant opportunities to "say" things to some live groups recently and have spent alot of time with other forms of communication beyond blogging! But, it is nice to get back to the "coracle" that is this blog--where I just spill out my inner world into the vast cyber-ocean and wonder whose shoreline I will hit...the chaos of it all is intoxicating.

We were just in Lincoln, England at the Grapevine Celebration/Conference specifically in the large tent they call "Glory." As always, I passionately fired out my inspiration about the redemptive potential in the world around us and sought to bring--not just bring, but display, animate and set free, my Kingdom message. I am intoxicated with the call to present true Christianity to this generation and I happen to hear that call not just from heaven, but from the voices of postmodern poets and thinkers themselves!!! (They don't know that it is to Jesus they are calling, because they don't yet have an accurate image of Him! That is where you and I come in!)

What I LOVE about my own journey is that God never lets it get boring! Just when I think I know the boundaries of what I have to say, God seems to step right past them and ask me (metaphorically speaking) "can you see me now?"! This time it was Tommy the Rock Opera by the Who. I had, a couple of months ago, become interested in re-discovering the "See me, touch me, feel me..." song from Tommy, but since Tommy was one of the few classic albums I did not myself own, I didn't know which song title to download to my iPod. After a few tries, I found "We're Not Gonna Take It" at the conclusion of the album. When I first was able to listen to it, I was on the treadmill at the gym. Halfway through, Roger Daltrey began the raspy see me, feel me, touch me, heal me... and then...oh then....the music shifted and there came the rapturous moment I was looking for:

Listening to you, I hear the music; Gazing at you, I get the heat
Following you, I climb the mountain; I get excitement at your feet
Right behind you, I see the millions; On you, I see the glory
From you, I get opinions; from you, I get the story....

And, as you know, it repeats again and again in what may be the only rock approximation of the number of times we charismatics repeat a worship chorus.

As I was brought back into contact with these words after so many years, I was broken. Here in the lyrics of an album written by a guitar smashing rebel--an album which was banned in both the U.S. and the U.K. for its explicit contents--was what to me the most poignant cry for a real Messiah imaginable! It is as if Pete Townshend shifted accidentally from writing about his pinball wizard hero to tapping the universal longing for a Savior that is buried in all mankind!! I thought as I heard it: "That's Jesus--the real Jesus! That is a perfect description of what Jesus is to me...." I wiped tears from my eyes as I still tried to navigate treading the mill...

It was one thing to feel that at the gym, but quite another to present it in public, however. I take time constraints seriously and the morning talks in the Glory venue were to be an hour--I have so much to say that it was too large a risk to launch out into what might be a private epiphany rabbit trail that would not necessarily bless all the Grapevine attendees! And yet, I couldn't get away from it and I felt God smiling inside me at the prospect. On the second morning of the event, I heard myself, as I talked about Paul at Athens, say, "Let me give you an example of today's poets..." and I read out the lyrics above.

I've been thinking about it ever since--and treasuring the original LP of Tommy that one of my friends presented to me the next day (my youngest child asked to hold the vinyl disc in his hand, never having seen anything but a CD). The more I think about it, the more I am amazed at this altar to the unknown (by The Who at least) God! The last two lines, especially, are the things I want to shout from the rooftops.

"From you, I get opinions..." My greatest fear of Christianity was the false notion that it would rob me of my color, life and spice and somehow turn me into a chapter and verse quoting clone who processed life through an emotionless grid. Nothing could be farther from the truth: Rather than depriving me of a personality, God through Christ in my life has caused a personality to blossom that amazes even me, its owner! I am honestly always surprising myself as I discover the swirls and splotches in my inner world! From HIM, I got, not a deprival of individuality, but the right to have "opinions" and "passions" and, for the milder among us "interests".

Though it's a chick flick and a lightweight one at that, Runaway Bride has a scene that moves me. Richard Gere challenges Julia Roberts to quit codependently adapting to every guy she dates. He notices that, out of her need to be accepted, she adapts to every like or disklike her current fiance has, right down to how they like their eggs cooked. His point blank question to her is "How do YOU like your eggs?" After she runs (yet again) and finds herself alone, she finally decides to face her inner demons. The camera shows her cooking every form of eggs imaginable from baked to Benedict and then sampling them one by one carefully until from within her finally a preference of her own emerges. She dared to have AN OPINION, rather than just losing herself into the safe territory of other people's strong prescriptions! THAT'S what Jesus did for me--he made me know that I am a unique individual who bears the brushstrokes of the Creator! If I am a Pollock or a Kandinsky, it's no use trying to look like a Rembrandt! From YOU I get OPINIONS...From YOU, Jesus, I find my own distinctive as well as the grace to add that to the community in which you have placed me! I don't have to fight for my opinions because IT'S YOU who gave them to me! I can rest in who I am....

But, even bigger than that, Townshend wrote, "From you, I get the story." What a great word for a postmodern world that has already realized that everyone has a story. Sometimes the story of our own lives is not one that we enjoy or want to tell. But, if that is the case, we simply have yet to see THE story! God has an over-arching story that always ends in glory for those who keep their eyes on Him. I can refuse earthly interpretations of my life and circumstances and wait for the story that comes from heaven to my heart. I can refuse judgments and prejudices towards other people--even when they hurt me--and tune in closer to God to get the story from Him. I only want HIS story--the redemptive one--the one that ends in resurrection even when the night of death has been so dark! From YOU I get THE story...and once I get it, everything makes sense. (It's worth waiting at his feet for as long as it takes...)

Back home in Azle, I shared these Tommy words with my youth group this week (and showed them the oddity of a 33 1/3 LP). I don't know if they were nearly as passionate as my British friends, but my own passion remained unflagged. (It's my opinion and has become my story...) I looked at their faces and thought about how the world is trying to mold them into people without authentic opinion and the enemy is trying to sell them a counterfeit story...and then I waxed exceedingly passionate about how we have a Savior that answers the cry of true rock and roll. Maybe they aren't music historians, and maybe the true cry of rock and roll is just far too "out there" to mention in Bible belt church (but watch me). Still, the song remains the same through all walks of life. Whatever mountain man is attempting to climb--whatever the quest of heart--Jesus is standing at the top offering the only real fulfillment. THAT is what a Savior does. No one can imagine a hero that Jesus doesn't meet and, by light years, exceed. Go ahead,: hear the music, feel the heat, climb the mountain, see the glroy... and then let the camera pan back from your Savior and you, too, will the millions waiting for what you have found. Your worship will be your sending and your life will be full.

The Power of Darkness...but not what you think

This weekend past, we had the honor of hosting Chris Bowater and Matt Key from "the north of England" here with us in Azle. Chris spoke to our church (in a Sunday morning meeting that took place while freezing rain fell outside) and left a real deposit of truth, but it was not only that message, but the stream of conversation that flowed between all of us, that has left me fascinated. You see, Chris seems to be carrying a deep understanding of one of the most amazing and unexplored concepts in the Kingdom: the power of obscurity. Not only does he understand it from a Biblical perspective--as he speaks of God coming in thick darkness and cloud, and showing up in unnoticed places like Bethlehem, as well as the many times Jesus told someone, "Go and tell no one..."(we never understood that in our testimonial fervor, did we now?)...but, beyond that Chris lives it. Chris' words and worship have affected not only his own nation, but places and people reaching all around the globe. He has spoken encouragement to gifted but mystified musicians countless times in private. He has dared to enter into their particular darkness, bringing a flashlight to identify the ways that God might reveal himself there. Though he has produced more worship songs, teams, schools, events and CD's than anyone I know personally, there remains a Melchezidek factor to his life and ministry--a sense in which he is known more by his Kingdom impact than his human profile. But more imporantly than that, he carries with him the ability to make you want to take refuge in God's hiddenness, rather than fight it.

I desperately needed the pill. I have lived the life of an artist with its accompanying (and exhausting) need "to be heard". Though I have found the joy of doing all I do for that holy audience of One, my culture seems to scream at me that my worship and ministry is not complete until I have some respectable sales figures and the bells and whistles that accompany such! (And by culture I mean the American church scene...) The confusion in my psyche was justifiable: I believed in the process of simply being myself and catching and processing the winds of the Holy Spirit that came my way (and turning them into words...) while leaving the results to Kingdom processes already in motion. Yet, I had succumbed a bit to judging myself by different standards. I had began to wonder if God's hiddenness as displayed through my life and our church signaled a deficiency in me/us--a wonderment which I could not afford given the mid-life nature of my personal chronology! A distinctly painful feeling reminiscent of being the last one chosen for a sports team had begun to tug often at the edges of my soul!

I now know--because of Chris' life message--that what I was missing was NOT an outlet or a vindicating breakthrough in recognition (for myself or my church)!!!Revealing may come, but THAT is not my greatest need. My greatest need is probably shared by many, especially here in America: We have unknowingly limited God to only bright light and full manifestation! We have declared unidimensionally that God is on the scene only when his blinding glory is shining for all to see, touch and perceive. We have forgotten that he comes in seasons and waves and a series of hidings and revealings, rhythms of mercy that flow with our lives...We have underestimated the huge portion of the Bible that recognizes God equally in darkness as in light. Forgetting that he is Lord of it all, we used all our human effort to push and pull on things until something--anything--showed up!!! Desperate to compete with the "signs" and "wonders" of others, we have often missed completely the tiny, precious seedlike beginnings of "signs" and "wonders" that surrounded us in hiddenness.

God's darkness is nothing like the darkness of evil. Communing with God in a place that defies sensory explanation is nothing like the despair of being alone. Rather, the thick cloud of God is dense truth so holy and so compact that it is almost tangible. It is God's awesome wisdom--line upon line upon line--paradox, mystery, contrast, dynamic tensions--all held in perfect balance by the force of unquenchable love that finds perfection only in Him. When we are that close to God, rather than filling our minds with more knowledge, he fills our hearts with Himself.

So, I am only beginning to explore the thick cloud, and lay aside the frenzy for fulfillment that only understands bright light. I know that the light is a part of God's plan, too; God of course IS light, but there's something about John 1 that seems to ring true about the context and setting of that light..."The light shines on in the darkness and the darkness is not able to extinguish it..."

The English physicist Stephen Hawking, astrophysical genius, has theorized with his typical humor that perhaps "Black holes ain't so black". It seems that black holes--giant vacuums in the universe that hold matter so tightly that nothing escapes--may actually emit traces of light and energy! If so, even the place of thickest darkness in the cosmos is not devoid of light, giving physical expression (as the heavens always do) to the Scripture:

If I say, “Surely the darkness will overwhelm me, And the light around me will be night,” Even the darkness is not dark to You, And the night is as bright as the day. Darkness and light are alike to You. Psalm 139:11-12

God help me--and all of us--carry the Melchezidek factor when we need to, SO THAT when God does set us as a city on a hill or a light out from under that bushel, we won't be moved by the change!

Poetry in motion...

This poem represents my response to "where is my life going?" questions--you know, the ones you don't always share with your fellow sojourners, who are like you, "pursuing their destinies in God," and pretending to know where it is all headed! Though it hasn't received any rave reviews from my immediate acquaintances, I still feel it has something to say--enough so that I post it here bravely! It is a prayer with a celebration at the end...which is, now that I think about it, what all of our lives should be...



Collide-a-scopic

All I see is broken glass—
Tangled, mangled shards of broken dreams,
Each one destined for greatness,
But now each one
Lying mockingly at my feet,
Declaring loss.

The red bits cry the loudest:
They were proudly forged in the heat of ambition:
Days when teachers and professors said,
“You could really make it if you try…”

The blue bits echo back a lament of loftier imaginings:
Of arts and expressions of the “inner life.”
Like ocean waves they speak
Of a vast unknown that is reachable
Only by me…

The green fragments—they seem the sharpest—accuse me unashamed.
“Humility is the way,” they say,
“Be small, be quiet, content with obscurity
And stop wanting what you can’t have in life.
The best you can hope for is no trauma, no drama and no frills.”
(I really hate those bits.)

I do see gold sparkling pebbles strewn throughout the wreckage,
Moments of real transcendent glory, but not exactly my own;
Heaven kissed me then and I was alive.
But they aren’t even proper shapes.
No one could build with them.

No, I don’t see a pattern when I look around me.
I only see what once was and what I wanted it to be—sadly.

And you—you dare me to come “as I am”?
I want to shout, “WAIT A MINUTE!!!”
This glass, these shreds, these nothings that wanted to be something—
These are me!
How can I come without them?
So you’ll have to wait until I figure out how to pick them up and bring them:
It’s a slow process because I keep getting cut…

But you won’t wait—why are you like that—insistent and intense?

Do you know something that I don’t know, being above me as you are?
What’s that? It’s not the glass but the ground you are pointing to?
Could it be that I am standing, living, dancing on a stage
That in your hands and under light brighter than my own
On purpose turns yielding patterns that make the broken glass dance—
Mirrors reflecting images that make pieces whole and reinterpret the world—
Chaos producing order and this moment,
This arrangement,
This turn of the circle
Producing a vision never seen before?

Then I realize the joke is on me (but how many others still don’t see it).
All anyone gets is the bits—
No one gets whole vases or goblets or prisms;
No perfect globes or spherical wonders, no crystal figurines.
The pieces unite to amplify the light
And the vision formed is the whole point—
Not second best, not salvaged because it’s all that is left of a once-bright future.

I dance then on the broken glass stage and realize I don’t have to bring it to you—
You’re all around it.
When I heard you say, “Come,” and did my bloody effort-filled exercise in futility,
(That has gone on now for years)
All you really meant was, “Relax,”
And all you really wanted was to dance.


--by Perrianne Brownback