It came to a head for me in 2010. I was at a Christian conference, in one of the 'worship' sessions, and I wept… with grief and frustration. The songs didn't speak to the pain I'd encountered in young offenders and their families, or to the depth of faith I’d found in friends fighting poverty in East Africa. The songs and doxology seemed disconnected, detached and anaesthetising. The words seemed overused and empty. Where was the revolution? The lament? The creative engagement with grit and dirt?
I had crucial spiritual formation in early adulthood. I’d always played music, and there was something about ‘worship’ and doxology that seemed important. I wrote my first songs in that context.
But I soon felt the need to take it 'outside'. I wanted to take the spiritual connection I'd made inside the church, and make it available to people outside. Some friends and I tried to make it in a mainstream band. It was a valuable journey, but in many ways not ‘successful’. Years later, I realised I’d been trying to explore what it might mean to be a 'cultural prophet', and to some degree the journey itself was a prayer.
Prior to this, I had the opportunity to visit Kenya. I came face to face with extreme poverty, hunger and the effects of colonialism, whilst experiencing cultural richness and a depth of faith. It broke me, and started to radicalise me in the (peaceful) Politics of Jesus.
I went on to work in different contexts: a young people’s homeless hostel, with young offenders and their families, an immigration removal centre, and community development in 8 developing countries. All of this continued to dismantle a deep mindset of 'Us & Them’. Rather than subconsciously distancing and dehumanising people who are ‘different’, I came to know friends, brothers, sisters and neighbours.
So at that conference in 2010, things came to a head. Despite finding good examples of holistic creative expression since, at the time I felt tension about 'worship' on 3 levels:
1. The Content: Earthed Theology
I still wanted to use music and song prayerfully and corporately, but it needed to make sense in light of everything I’d experienced. I wanted songs that spoke of an ‘earthed theology’: an all-of-life spirituality, as demonstrated by the Person who was fully human.
I wanted songs that could help mourn and critique, whilst also being energising and empowering. I wanted doxology that reflected the Politics of Jesus (or the ‘Kingdom of God’): instating women, prioritising children, advocating for the poor, welcoming strangers, reintegrating humanity and creation, freeing prisoners, and caring for the sick, with a deep recognition that following 'the Way' will be directly opposed to hierarchy, domination and violence.
And I wanted to amplify the ‘sound’ of what seems to be a key movement of God in this time: the ‘church’ being poured out and sown into the dirt and soil of the world. The future will certainly look and sound very different.
2. The Form: Creatively Authentic Expression
Different cultural expressions became authentic to me because of the friendships I've had with people from those cultures, and of many years teaching and learning music in an immigration removal centre. It's been great to have some of these friends involved in the writing and recording process for the recent album.
3. The Application: Different Kinds of Music Used at Different Times for Different Purposes
I felt (and came to know) that there's no one way of doing ‘worship’. Throughout history, and in different faith traditions, different ‘spaces’ have been created for engaging with God through music and art.
Style, culture, environment and expectation play a big part in how doxology is engaged with, and how (or if) a connection is made. For musicians and practitioners, there are lessons to learn about what works and what doesn't.
But the challenge for any of us is how we see or hear God, not only in liturgy, music or art, but within life as a whole, in the day to day. Doxology should recognise and celebrate the wholeness of life too.
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‘Songs of Resistance & Comfort Vol. I’ was born out of all of these thoughts, feelings and experiences. It started out of the need to write doxology that was meaningful to me and others in our 'homes-based' ekklesia. It's an attempt to add to a different songbook for followers of The Way.
But it's also an attempt to start a conversation and provoke questions. And if you're a musician, songwriter or wordsmith I hope that something ignites for you to create your own contribution. Future volumes need your voice.
But it's also an attempt to start a conversation and provoke questions. And if you're a musician, songwriter or wordsmith I hope that something ignites for you to create your own contribution. Future volumes need your voice.