Monday Morning Music Ministry

2-21-22

I realize the invitation of this blog is to “start your week with a spiritual song in your heart.” And I further realize that it carries the implication of Uplift; a bright message to commence a positive week.

When we are inspired to be a latter-day Jeremiah – that is, reflecting on troubling signs in contemporary life, or addressing the many crises our culture faces – a realistic message is also a useful, even necessary, way to start our days and weeks, even if “dark.” We should not continuously be “Debbie Downers,” but neither should we be spiritual Pollyannas, thinking everything is rosy, or will be cheery when things soon straighten themselves out.

Jeremiah, as I said, was a prophet whose message was dark and threatening to those who needed to hear it: the whole nation that had gone morally wayward. Noah too. Moses too. Jonah too. In fact… Jesus, too, in many of His sermons.

The sweep of humankind’s history has been marked by the rebellion of individuals, for instance “those to whom much had been given” and much was expected; these notable figures, too often, squandered their gifts and blessings. No less frequently in the world’s history and Biblical accounts we learn of entire peoples – tribes, societies, nations – who strayed.

“Strayed” from what? Generally from the things that had made them great, or successful, or productive – Forgetting their foundational principles. Betraying their inheritance. Losing sight of what was unique to them. Falling out of love with the ideals they once cherished.

Ancient Rome comes to mind. And so does… contemporary America.

This critique is not novel – at least I hope most of you feel the same angst. Recent events brought these thoughts to me. No, not crime nor the drug epidemic nor the runaway economy nor the health scares nor “wars and rumors of war,” despite these news items screaming at us every day.

Sometimes a larger circumstance can be more indicative of our moral crises and spiritual challenges than are passing headlines and statistics. This clarity was apparent when I watched the recent Super Bowl. I don’t mean the game itself – well, yes, I do. Not the brutish contest with strange new rules and blown calls and gladiator-like ferocity, but the “game” behind the game. We now have the nation’s favorite sport (we can still include baseball under this umbrella) where drugs and politics play important roles, in the news and in careers of the players. Fans have come to know as much about salaries and pensions as they do about on-the-field stats.

Salaries spiral ever upward, and… that’s America, right? “Get what you can while you can.” But players increasingly receive contracts worth significant portions of a billion dollars. OK, “if the owners didn’t make it, they couldn’t pay it.” So the owners simply charge more for tickets (multiple thousands of bucks for a seat at the Super Bowl… when the fans in the stands probably watch the action on Jumbotron screens anyway) and charge more for commercial time. ($6-million per minute?) Advertisers pay so much by charging more and more for their products. All of which means the fan gets socked from every angle. Um, for guys playing football and baseball.

We think of Ancient Rome with its “bread and circuses.”

But more troubling to me was the halftime “entertainment,” this year entirely given over to hip hop and rap, which is listened to by only a sliver of the population. An array of performers rolled out their hits, and paid vague homage to Los Angeles, common home to some of the noise and to this year’s Super Bowl. Kendrick Lamar performed “Alright,” famous for its anti-police message… and by the way, that misspelling was his intention; I realize that many performers and song titles and the genre itself is one big typographical error. The one white star, Eminem, took a knee in evident homage to Kaepernick; and the one major female, Mary K Blige, strutted around the stage in the costume of L.A.’s many street-walkers.

An observer, attempting to understand the lyrics, made a list of words and phrases during the halftime show. The unofficial tally: The “N” word, 16 times. The “F-Bomb,” 13 times. The “M-F” phrase, four times. The “B” word (in these days of the Me Too movement), 24 times. Likewise there were obscene gyrations including groping and grabbing of breasts and crotches.

America’s favorite sport. Broadcast in early evening… partly so kids could enjoy the sport. (“Grandma, what’s an igger?”) Overpaid illiterates parading filth, the crowd noise cheering lustily, praised by NBC announcers, paid for by Pepsi. (And you, ultimately.)

Our culture, if such wildly endorsed events are barometers (and they are), is in a Stage Four level of decadence. Among many comparisons I could offer, and really none are necessary as proof, we have arrived at a point where parents are not supposed to have a say in children’s school curricula; where Bible passages are being censored as “hate speech”; but a spectacle like the Super Bowl halftime show is force-fed to 100-million viewers as appropriate.

We have entered a Pentecost of Calamity, and extrication by traditional families and Christian patriots seems daunting. Without God’s help… and a true grassroots revival… and a severe rejection of this Spirit of the Age…

Well… have a nice week.

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I was reminded of the great Gram Parsons song. Written in the late ‘60s by the late enigmatic musical pioneer, Sin City is widely assumed to be not about Las Vegas; not New Orleans; but (appropriately this week) Los Angeles. Or… America and the West as a whole.

Click: Sin City