Monday, September 30, 2013

CRABBY'S RECORD COLLECTION SERIES # 3

The first song I remember liking was Walk Right In by The Rooftop Singers.  I was about ten at the time.  Later that year (1963), The Beatles came to America and I never was the same.  Thus I became a living fan of Rock music during the true golden age of Boomer "love, peace and rock and roll".  In the tumult of in the sixties, we believed that music could change to world.

By the seventies, we lost faith in the possibilities of music transforming the world.  What was left was the music.  It was the music we never gave up.  There was not much to recommend in rock to Christian sensibilities truth be told; but there was always a part of us that remained little pagans.
Sorry to say to the younger generations, but rock is over.  You missed it.  It was great while it lasted.  In the last half of the sixties and half way into the seventies, rock was robust with life.  Afterward, however, it began to die a slow and sometimes painful death.  While there were still signs of life, the eighties were terrible for rock as we knew it.  By the mid-nineties, with a few exceptions, it was over.
Every generation is entitled to its own music.  There is little reason for the young to harken back to when dinosaurs roamed the earth.  But, if you are interested in a little musical paleontology, we'll talk about the great albums of yesteryear and consider why they were so great.  The rest of us old-timers will engage in a little rusty nostalgia.  And, no, we won't visit the wonderworks of Justin Bieber or Lady GaGa.
Mick Lee.


Layla--Derek & The Dominos


Have You Ever Loved A Woman

Rolling Stone Magazine recently devoted a whole issue to the 500 best albums of all time. I was stunned that this album did not appear at least in the top 10. It drives me to drink that there are millions of rock fans out there who don't even know this music exists.

It is well known what the back-story is for this record. Clapton fell for George Harrison's wife, Patty. They had a fling and then she turned her back on him. The resulting emotional devastation for Clapton wound up expressed as these songs. When the original album came out, we knew none of this. For the first couple of years, Layla And Other Assorted Love Songs was overlooked not only because the public didn't know the story but also because most didn't even know Eric Clapton played on it. But on first listen, we knew "something" happened. For all we knew, some girl who worked in a teashop could have dumped him. It didn't matter. Something real and wretched happened-this wasn't show business.

 Most women, unfortunately, do not know men can feel this way this deeply. This is not to fault them. They simply fall into the common human mistake of assuming that if men do not express it then they do not feel it. Most men know well that these "blues" are all too real-they just rarely speak of them among themselves. Sometimes they can pretend they are immune to them. But deep down men know that "that certain woman" can destroy them.  For all too many the only way we can talk about these things is through the anesthesia of intoxication. While it is true that we often drink to forget, just as often we drink to remember because it is only with a numbness that we can deal and look at what's eating us. So it was with Clapton. He was taking large amount of drugs during the making of this album-heroin being just one. Some argue that it was only through the haze of drugs and alcohol that Layla could be made. Maybe yes. Maybe no. But even if were true that Layla had to have the "blessing" of intoxication to be made, it does not explain why this music is so beautiful.  I have listened to this album ever since 1971. Along the way, every single song at one time or another has become my favorite.

"I Looked Away" is the nice, gentle quiet before the storm. It is deceptively a "light" beginning; but it immediately tells the listener what's going on. "Bell Bottom Blues" is more dynamic but interestingly many dismiss it the first couple of listens. Upon repeated hearings one becomes aware just how much this song "cooks". Thematically, I would argue that Clapton's story is first summed up here. "Keep On Growing" seems to a positive, exciting "rave-up" except a few notes of self-doubt which seep in. The end of the first LP side of the album is wrapped up with "Nobody Know You When You're Down And Out". Compared to "Keep On Growing", "Nobody Knows You..." is more somber. It is a blues musing on how as times are good and bad friends come and go and after a while one is no longer so certain what those "friends" are worth.

Side Two begins with "I Am Yours", an acoustic pleading that in spite the loved one's coldness the singers love still flows from the heart. This followed by "Anyday". I am surprised how many people do not care for this song; but you would have to have a heart of stone not the feel the combination of hope and anguish as the refrain is repeated:

The second side finishes a long version of "Key To The Highway" and the third side opens with "Tell The Truth". These two songs may seem to have little to do with the main story until one recognizes that both deal with "leaving". The album then continues with "Why Does Love Got To Be So Sad". While good in its own way, this version seems to be a mere blueprint to the extended one which appears on the In Concert album: one of the all too few examples of where the "live" version is much better than the original. The third side concludes with "Have You Ever Loved A Woman". A sort of mediation and prayer over a love in which "the water is wide...I can't cross o'er". It seems it's all over.

But there's more. The fourth side opens with "Little Wing". Clapton worshiped the ground Hendrix walked on and he cried at Hendrix passing not because he left but because Hendrix didn't take Clapton with him. So it has been all the more surprising and delightful that Clapton took Hendrix' sad, quiet and gentle song and made it raw, emotional and thunderous. It is a successful example of two contrary emotions being expressed at the same time: the lyrics are worshipping and loving while the music is heartbreaking and cries of desperation. "It's Too Late" is a relatively simply and "clean" realization that "that one last chance" is gone. It is a little gem.  Then we end with "Layla". "Layla" restates the story of the whole album and begs the lost love to take the singer back. "Layla" ends with a dreamy, grand instrumental suggesting a sweet reconciliation of the two lovers. The time of distress and torment is over.  But with "Thorn Tree In The Garden" we realize that dreamy reconciliation existed only in the hopes of the singer. It is a new day and our lover is still gone.

This is one of the greatest rock and roll records ever made. Do yourself a favor and get it. Listen to it a lot. Make it yours. You will love it. And then maybe after twenty years you'll begin to understand it. May you never have to experience something like it for yourself someday.

Sunday, September 15, 2013

EVEN WHEN STEEPLES ARE FALLING


At the conclusion of the affirmative vote on gay pastors in committed relationships being admitted into the ministry during the 2009 ELCA Churchwide Assembly, a great storm fell upon the city of Minneapolis.  During the storm the the steeple of Central Lutheran Church across the street from the convention center was damaged with the cross at its apex toppled over.

Both those for the reform and those against did not fail to take note of the wild storm which was said to have included a tornado.  The reform party took it as a sign of approval interpreting the storm as a symbolic manifestation the movement of the Holy Spirit in "freeing the captives".  Those long opposed to "practicing" gays in the ministry saw the destructive tempest as a sign of God's anger--pointing the wrecking of the cross atop Central Lutheran. 

As we all have long come to expect, how you saw those events depended on whichever theological perspective one holds.  Along with what the storm is thought to have said about the reform itself, it also admonition of negative judgment toward the other party. 

So how could two groups of individual belonging to the same Church come to two diametrically opposed positions on such a crucial question?  The reformers saw themselves as responding the imperative of the freeing Gospel with more than a hint that the traditionalists were stubbornly bound to "medieval" notions derived from base and evil impulses.  Traditionalists saw themselves as witnesses to the Word of God and the reformers bowing to the secular Spirit Of The Age--in effect baptizing one of the worst movements of the Zeitgeist.  Reformers were unfaithful apostates.  Traditionalists were homophobic haters.  (Get out the white sheets and fire up the ovens!)

Afterward, the leadership declared that the resolution was not binding on the consciences of all ELCA Lutherans.  You could disagree and still belong.  However one came out on the issue, it said nothing about the person as a faithful Christian.  In the light of the love of Christ, the diverse gathering of ELCA Lutherans should be bound together by love for one another.  In this sense, the question of practicing gay pastors was not a crucial question. 

Those opposed wondered how they were to stand behind and remain in a Church whose public teaching disregarded Scriptures.  They could not pretend otherwise.  It was a crucial question and it said exactly what kind of person you are.

In actuality, any Lutheran can tell you that historically Lutherans have had their differences even before the death of Martin Luther himself.  The Book of Concord was supposed to hammer out those differences.  Which it did for the most part.  What followed was a centuries old "discussion" of what Luther meant and the degree to which one held to fidelity the Book of Concord.  Aside these issues was the basic question of how Scripture is read and used--and just how authoritative Scriptures are themselves.  On top of all this, as it did with almost all Christian theological discussions and traditions, the Enlightenment threw a profound monkey wrench into these affairs.

What all the disagreements over "practicing homosexual ministers" point to is a basic conflict in how Scripture is read and explained. Truth be known: there are actually very few "literalists" within whatever variety of Lutheran Church you look into. Almost all Lutherans are open to one school of Biblical scholarship or another. Instead, it is more useful to speak of a continuum of "high" to "low" views of Scripture.

Those of the "high" view tend to be respectful of academic Biblical scholarship--even the historical/critical school--but ultimately believe that Scripture is inspired. Those of the "low" view tend to view Scripture as human-made and not divinely inspired--or inspired only in the loosest sense. Naturally, there are degrees along each side of the continuum; but the description holds up pretty well. The ramifications come out in the question of how seriously to take the actual written text of Scripture and what weight to give individual experience in discovering the "truth". Those of the "low" view tend to speak of discovering what Scripture has to say in light of the "modern context". More to the point, what was true at the time a particular passage was written may not be true today. Instead, the focus should not be on the particulars within the passage, but with the underlying theme as we understand it today. Such a theme may in fact overrule the apparent lesson of the passage. Those of a more radical bent will hold that there is no objective truth in Scripture except that which is discovered to be "true for me".

Those of a "high" view accept the human origins of Scripture; but also believe that Scripture came about by the intentionality of God. Thus the written text is taken seriously. Not every piece of Scripture is of equal value and this is where the proper division of Law and Gospel is helpful. In this view, scholarship is respected when it helps explain the meaning of Scripture. Scholarship which destroys meaning and is hostile to the devotional use of Scripture is viewed with critical suspicion. As opposed to those of the radical "low" view, "high" view folk hold the God's truth is true whether it is experienced or not.

While there is rarely a Lutheran who is a "pure" high or low, there is actually very little middle ground between the two sides. What is at stake is not just how to interpret any particular passage of Scripture; it is a conflict on what meanings will be assigned to the world around us. Taken on a national scale, it is easy to see why the ELCA finds it so difficult to achieve real consensus on any particular issue.

As the Sexuality Statement and the Ministry Recommendations which opened the gates to accepting pastors in committed gay partnership into the ministry of the ELCA was openly debated in the 2009 churchwide assembly, it was evident that the ELCA was already two churches with two separate witnesses.

The respective appeals to Scripture, tradition, and the Lutheran Confessions were so apart it seemed the "traditionalists" (who liked to refer themselves as the "orthodox") and the "reformers" (who liked to see themselves as "liberators")to utterly different texts.   As one commenter put it: "At one mic these foundational pieces of our heritage are" deployed like a set of wagons circled against a hostile world. At the other they are lifted like a sextant, that trustworthy tool used by mariners to navigate with confidence in the absence of fixed points."

There seems to me to be two uncomfortable truths at the heart of this.

For the orthodox, experience is deceptive and untrustworthy—especially when it challenges the plain sense and historic teaching of the texts Lutherans hold sacred or confessional. Any appeal to experience is compelling evidence of a morally and rationally bankrupt position. To tender insight grounded in experience is to play right into the evil one's hands.  It is not simply another viewpoint, it is profoundly wicked.  Claims of hearing the Holy Spirit apart from Scriptures is, if not entirely on the mark, resemble the heresy of enthusiasm.  Indeed, for the orthodox, there is little doubt as to how Martin Luther would have perceived these developments.

For the liberators, experience—while not immune to suspicion—is seen as a source possibly delivering a corrective and sacred insight. It is acknowledged as a wellspring from which the Holy Spirit may speak.  In addition, the liberators think they are working from with the best of historic Lutheran theological discernment. 

These positions are intrinsically polarizing and divisive.

The liberators and the orthodox have markedly different witnesses of very nature of God.  Are we listening to the freeing Word of a compassionate God--righting the centuries of cruelty and abuse?  Or are we turning a deaf ear to a God who sometimes demands hard, uncomfortable paths of us and are either willfully and mistakenly bowing before the altar of the Spirit of the Age?

At one large gathering of Lutheran laymen and clergy a year before the churchwide assembly in which the Church leadership hoped both sides would express their thoughts and listen to one another, I spoke of the disaster that would come.  In my view, however we sugarcoated it, one side was going to win and one side would lose.  The bishop at the podium said that it was not necessary to see it as anyone "winning" and he encouraged all gathered there to avoid any such assessment.  However, in view of the events which followed the churchwide assembly, this "no winners" proposition was either an exercise in self-deception at best or a cynical "blowing sunshine up" the orthodox' collective posteriors. 

In any event, later in the proceedings, the gathering was treated to what I have entitled the "parade of gay agony" as a number of homosexuals (both gay men and lesbians) gave testimony to the pain the Church inflicted on all same-sex individuals by its historical negative teaching against their sexual identity and that Christian acceptance and inclusiveness required the Church to change. More than a few testified how much their partner meant to them.  They further maintained that if each Lutheran really got to know someone who was homosexual their attitudes would change--at least they would soften their antagonism if not totally change their minds.

The opposition (the orthodox) also made their way to their designated microphone and generally appealed to Scripture and the Churches' consistent teaching from the time of the early church to the present.  The orthodox largely wanted to approach the issue theologically while the liberators testified to personal experience and modern science.

Toward the end, the participants were instructed to break out in small groups and dialogue. Predictably, people separated themselves into groups of like-minded individuals.  In my own group, however, one gentleman came to listen to our discussion to see where the orthodox were coming from.  "Dave" was a graduate student from one of the local universities.  Quite some time passed before he identified himself as gay.  He was genuinely puzzled why the orthodox were so opposed to the inclusion of gays in the ministry and what he perceived as rejection of gays themselves as persons.  "Dave" didn't see any Scriptural or theological justification against gays in this "enlightened" age--that seemed to be fairly obvious to him.  It was just something an average and reasonable person would think. He appeared not comprehend the thoughts of the rest of those in the discussion group.

"Dave" and I had a fairly lengthy and mutually respective talk.  Toward the end, I confessed that I would rather have been on the other side and I didn't want to mete out any more pain on top of the abuse gays received.  My problem was that I couldn't get there and be intellectually honest with myself.  We parted exchanging each other's email addresses for further exchange of views.  Unfortunately, my emails in the months which followed went unanswered.  (It is quite possible I was sending my emails to the wrong location.  His handwriting was difficult for me to read.  To be fair, my own handwriting itself lacks something in immediate clarity.)

At this remove from the 2009 Assembly, the critical fallout is fairly palpable.  This wasn't merely of a triumph of one morally dubious minority ascending into acceptance into the ministry.  It was the definitive victory for the prominence of experiential theology in the life of the ELCA.  For the liberators, this was a breath of invigorating air making it possible to address many issues anew in welcome ways.  To the orthodox, such theology provided no anchor to prevent the ELCA from drifting into boundless speculation and detached abstraction.

How can the orthodox productively discuss theological challenges when the liberators insist on raising standards orthodox do not recognize?  Likewise will liberators likely find they can achieve only limited, incomplete progress when the orthodox will go only so far but no further?

The ELCA leadership since 2009 has appealed a number of rationales for disaffected members and congregations to remain in the fold.  Many revolve around what I guess could be entitled the "sweet mystery of faith" trope.  In other words, the realities of life (Christian life) is so immersed in ambiguities and unknowns that certainty is not given to us on many things--recognizing that these mysteries are too deep for any to fathom.  To be true to Christ's calling, Lutherans are to live in community with each other with all our differences and disagreements bound by love and trust.  Trusting that the other has made his considered, best judgments in the light of Scripture and faithfulness to God--however it may be that those judgments may depart from one's own.

But it is clear that this standard of Christian community meant to be stretched only so far.  One could question if…say…the presiding Bishop and all the other synodical bishops really believed this, then will they now set their mitres and ordinations aside and submit to Rome for the sake of Christian unity and fellowship?  Take my word for it, they tend to bristle when this question is put to them.

In the aftermath of 2009, the singular force working for ELCA in preventing losses even greater than it has suffered is sheer inertia.  It is not that easy for congregation to leave the ELCA.  Many a congregation has experienced open civil war among its members when the question is put forth.  For the individual Lutheran, it invites conflict within the family.  In many locations in America, if one were inclined to leave where would go?  Many ELCA Lutherans are loath to turn to the Missouri Synod and going outside Lutheranism altogether is unthinkable.  So to extent they can ignore the goings-on within the ELCA, they will remain.

Until the next enthusiasm comes over the horizon--or when their congregation chooses their next Pastor.