The Stink Of Jesus
Money Changers, Part Two — Electric Boogaloo
In the 1970s, Christianity became big business. And we started leaving our scent on things. Christian music was the first thing I remember belonging to us. It was our music; not yours. And Handel . . . he was a Christian composer. Same thing with Bach. They were, each, one of us.
At church, we had a Christian record store, where I could buy Christian rock albums. Only, Rock-n-Roll was the Devil’s brand. And the word “gospel” was not hip enough for young people. So we called it Contemporary Christian Music (or CCM). I was not allowed to listen to any music that was not bathed in the Christian brand.
A Few Of the Hottest CCM Acts In the 1980s
Same with books. Thus, I was not allowed to explore books about sex, as I was wont to do at that age, unless they were Christian books. Fortunately, I found one or two books in the teen section of our church’s Christian bookstore that ever-so-lightly touched on the birds and the bees. No pictures, of course. But that didn’t stop me from wanking myself dry over descriptions of puberty development. So, thank you . . . Christian writer!
Big Business
Jimmy Carter was a Christian politician. He was our man in 1976. Not yours; ours! Why he was no longer our man four years later is still beyond my comprehension. But I suspect it had something to do with the big business of Christianity making a deal with the Republican brand, and losing its soul in the meantime.
In 1984, I graduated from Oral Roberts University with a degree in Music. Afterward, I attended Pat Robertson’s graduate Film school.
These, arguably, were the two most recognizable brands in Christian education. And since I was a precocious thinker, given always to challenging the status quo — after all, we could always make things better, right? Even our Christianity — I got into it a lot with my fellow Christian students; people who accepted the good-enough qualities of the Christian brand, who did not hunger and thirst for excellence, as I did. These arguments always ended with me being told, in some passive-aggressive fashion, that I wasn’t good enough for God.
Wow, I had so many of these pointless head-butting squabbles with ever-smiling Christian automatons! I prided myself on being intellectually superior to these lazy-minded bliss-addicts. And I did, indeed, stand out as a clever fellow amongst idiots. You could say that I was at the forefront of backward thinking; the cutting edge of dull sensibilities. And the only thing that I accomplished with my progressive thinking was to alienate myself from everyone and everything around me. My “us” became a “them”.
Shall we have another go at it?
The Christian Brand
The last straw for me, I think — though the camel really should have buckled long before — was the publication of the Christian Yellow Pages. This was pure Free Market Capitalism — short-sighted, irresponsible, and cynical to the core; in this case, selling ad space to Christian business owners who were counting on the stupidity of their brothers in Christ. I say “stupidity”, because why would anyone prefer the services of a Christian skilled laborer over the best possible skilled laborer, regardless of his or her religion?
Contemporary Christian Music was NOT better than secular rock music. Nor was it all that bad. It was merely 5-10 years behind the times . . . always!
When, in the late 60s, Contemporary Christian composers boldly went where many had gone before, they were setting lyrics about Jesus to the chord changes and textures of the Byrds and the Beatles.
The close vocal harmonies and eclecticism of CCM in the late-70s had been done in the 60s and early-70s by the Beach Boys and the Carpenters.
A decade after Black Sabbath and Kiss chewed up the charts and the scenery, we were force-fed the Cookie Monster stylings of Christian Heavy Metal. And let’s face it, folks . . . Spinal Tap was tastier than Christian Heavy Metal.
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Were we so guilt-ridden over our Earthly pleasures that we had to excrete the stink of Jesus on everything in order to feel safe?
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Another time-wasting endeavor in film school was considering the notion of a Christian movie. What is a Christian movie? We identified Chariots Of Fire as a Christian movie. Same with Ben Hur. Same with Witness.
These were our movies; not yours. Nevermind that all of these movies were made to make money and advance careers, not to market Jesus. But Evangelicals planted their flag on them.
One Of Us
Why this compulsion for Christian branding? Were we so guilt-ridden over our Earthly pleasures that we had to excrete the stink of Jesus on everything in order to feel safe?
By the late-90s, long after I’d become a you, far from the madding flock, I came across an article about a group of Christian swingers in Phoenix. And I remember thinking, My God . . . if you have to quote Scripture to justify your deviant sexuality, then why not just dispense with the Bible altogether? As St. Augustine said, “Love God and do as you please.”
My freshman year at Oral Roberts, a few of us got together to see if it was really true that when you played “Stairway To Heaven” backwards, you could hear the words “Satan’s Secret Service”. Our dorm chaplain led the ritual, manually turning the vinyl disc in the wrong direction. I’m quite certain I heard, “Bing dong chew!” But the rest of the guys claimed that they, indeed, heard the Devil’s call.
It was not uncommon in those days for Fundamentalist ministers to host record burnings. Young people were encouraged to bring their secular Rock-n-Roll albums and 45s to a church parking lot, where the dreaded items would be doused with lighter fluid and set aflame. The squealing and popping that plastic makes when burned was purported evidence of demons fleeing the scene.
Those demons were cast into a herd of swine known to us as the GOP Presidential candidates, thus far, of the 21st Century. What do most of them have in common with the classic horror film Freaks? (Not a Christian movie, by the way.) They are all one of us!
Let’s hope they don’t drag us all over the cliff with them.
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I like how you challenge the establishment.
Thank you, Cindy.