Monday Morning Music Ministry

9-26-11

Wade Mainer died last week. He was 104 years old. Born when Theodore Roosevelt was president and only four years after the Wright Brothers first flew, he was just about old enough to vote when sound came to movies, Lindbergh crossed the Atlantic, and Babe Ruth hit 60 homers. He was only 22 when the first Great Depression fell… but things actually didn’t change much for the worse in those hard-scrapple hills of Buncombe County, North Carolina, where he was reared. Music was one of the few “releases” folks had, a type of salvation.

But Wade was not notable because he lived longer than is allotted to most of us. Among his plaudits is the fact that he followed his brother J E Mainer into playing music. J E was a fiddle player; Wade got interested in the banjo, which then, in black and white rural Southern music, was strummed (or played “claw hammer” style). Wade experimented, following his own curiosity and taste, and started plucking the strings. He used only two fingers – his own style.

It was a distinctive style of playing, and a sound that fit well with the guitar and fiddle of mountain music. Other local banjo players were influenced; one of them was Smith Hammett, who influenced a few more, one of them being a cousin named Earl Scruggs. Earl “added” a finger to the right-hand picking, learned to slide and bend the strings a little bit on the neck, and the famous “sound” of the Bluegrass banjo was born.

Wade Mainer began that musical thread, but was modest about his role, and in fact never played in the Scruggs style, and firmly declined the Bluegrass label. When I would call his music “mountain” music, he liked that best. Yes, I had the privilege to know Wade.

I had written several books on country music, and written about the Mainers, without knowing he was still alive; or dreaming that I would meet him; or guessing that we would become friends. I had moved from San Diego to mid-Michigan to be close to my daughter who took a job as a youth pastor. A local radio station announced a 97th birthday party concert for Wade Mainer – could it be? – and I met him, wound up joining his church, and becoming friends with him and his wife Julia, whose own stage name in the 1930s was “Hillbilly Lillie.”

Back to the 1930s. The ensemble “Mainer’s Mountaineers” became a major act, and recorded for RCA Victor Records. In the early 1940s Wade played in a Broadway revue, The Old Chisolm Trail, with Woodie Guthrie and Burl Ives. He performed at the White House for President Franklin D Roosevelt. Then came World War II, a postwar recession, and a public’s taste that veered away from traditional mountain songs. Wade could no longer support his family with the banjo. The auto industry was booming, and he took a factory job with General Motors in Flint, Michigan.

At that period of his life, a renewed commitment to God coincided with laying the banjo down. He considered that playing country music – anything that didn’t serve God – should be avoided. He stopped recording, touring, even playing locally. It was only later, when the legendary Molly O’Day, also born again, persuaded him that he should serve God through his music, that he began to sing, play, and record again.(Molly O’Day was one who discovered a young Hank Williams.) Latter-day albums were released by John Morris’s Old Homestead Records.

Until near the end, Wade played a lively banjo, had a great sense of humor on the stage and in his living room… and loved to testify. He would punctuate his monologues with everyday talk about Heaven and Jesus. And Julia, 94, who still plays a great flattop guitar in the style of Riley Puckett and Mother Maybelle Carter, can break out in spontaneous, anointed prayer that can sweep the hearts of everyone in a room.

I wanted to tip my hat to a legend I was blessed to know (a painting I did of Wade and Julia performing is attached to this message) – but also to share the story of a man who was responsible for starting a major trend in American music, but was uncomfortable discussing it; who scaled the heights of show business for a time, but was totally modest about his acclaim; and – most of all – who followed his Christian conscience in forsaking the music business, or returning strictly to gospel music, despite many pleas to hit the road and club venues again. Those are rare traits these days, but Wade Mainer was a rare type of man.

Painting of Wade Mainer

+ + +

The video accompanying this message is a portion of an interview with Wade conducted by David Holt – this generation’s John or Alan Lomax, seeking out pioneers of American music. Wade and Julia perform his gospel classics Sit Down (“I just got to Heaven and I got to walk around”) and Take Me in Your Lifeboat.

Click: Wade Mainer Gospel

9-19-11

My granddaughter Elsie was dedicated this weekend. Since I was not able to attend – partly because she is in Northern Ireland and I am not – Emily and Norman did the next best thing these days: hooked up a Skype connection. The ceremony “streamed live,” and when I was asked to pray, a microphone was held to my spectral, flickering image. I am not sure the people in the church could hear (in fact I heard only every fifth word or so of theirs), but we all know that God did. I got to wondering: would the 120 have gathered in the Upper Room if there had been Skype 2000 years ago?

The screen has become a part of our lives now. Tekkies tell us that, soon, smart-phone screens will substitute for computer screens, and soon will projected onto walls, even to handle touch-screen capabilities once projected. (In the meantime, of course, it took me 20 minutes to remember how to charge the laptop’s batteries…)

In recent history, much of my supposed field, popular culture, essentially has been related to the small screen. Even our political history. Richard Nixon might have been kicked off Dwight Eisenhower’s presidential ticket in 1952, but for the “Checkers Speech” he made on TV (decades later my mother still grew misty-eyed, recalling that piece of political theater). Eight years later, radio listeners to the Nixon-Kennedy debates rated Nixon the winner; but on TV he came across as sweaty, shifty-eyed, and dark (here merely was ill, warm, and had a five-o’clock shadow)… and such was the power of TV that Kennedy narrowly won that election. It has always been my opinion that much of the American public and even a lot of Ronald Reagan’s supporters viewed him as an overly amiable “aw, shucks” guy, until one night in the 1980 primaries, a moderator tried to shut off Reagan’s microphone in a hall he had rented. The Gipper angrily shouted, “I’m PAYING for this microphone, Mr Breen!” Even Reagan’s political rivals broke out in applause; and I remember thinking, “THAT’s how he’ll face down the Soviets.” I think America saw him differently too, because of a TV moment.

Last week a similar moment happened. I doubt whether history will turn on the exchange… but for one moment the crux of the Great Debate of the 20th century, and the American government’s fate in the 21st, was in the headlights. Then things moved on, maybe never to be raised again. It was a moment in the Republican debate when moderator Wolf Blitzer asked a hypothetical health-care question of the only doctor on stage, Ron Paul. If a healthy man who chose not to buy insurance got very sick, “are you saying that society should just let him die?”

I am not making a brief for a candidate, believe me: The response was mechanistic, not theological. However, Rep. Paul spoke some common sense when he recalled that he began his medical practice before the days of Medicare and Medicaid. He never turned a patient away, and never knew a hospital to do so. “What about family, friends, and churches?” he asked rhetorically. Is that a heartless attitude… or is it biblical?

Statistics indicate that Americans bestow more charity than do citizens of most other nations; that Christians donate more than people of other faiths; that conservatives are far more generous than liberals, along these lines. This is instructive, especially in the face of concerted campaigns to the contrary. That is, there are serious political efforts to end tax deductions for charitable contributions, and since the New Deal, we are confronted with philosophies that attempt to have government substitute for private charity.

The dilemma is not, of course, whether to render assistance. It is co-opting the impulse behind it, making war on our freedoms of conscience and action. When government “takes care of the poor,” we don’t have to, is the general proposition: that is the mindset of the modern state. Whether the poor, or sick, or homeless, are measurably assisted, is actually an open question (poverty rates have changed little since the Great Society) – but many people’s consciences are deadened “because the government will take care of the needy.” And this is apart from the question of whether it is moral to coerce one person here to support the children of another person there; or a woman from, say, Arizona to have to pay for the surgery of a man from, say, Maine. Eventually, citizens will be unable on their own to assist folks when they hear about children needing assistance, or surgical procedures requiring help. Already 1.75 citizens supports one Social Security beneficiary, and then we start adding Medicare, Medicaid, welfare, disaster relief, foreign aid…

Years ago I was impressed, when reading St Augustine’s Confessions, how he regarded charity. He quoted Christ’s words, “the poor ye shall always have with you,” and explained this otherwise enigmatic verse. Augustine identified with the poor, in part because Christ did, and he was extraordinarily active on their behalf. Augustine had a vision of corrupt man as someone who, despite our best intentions, keeps returning to self. He warned in the same vein against a circular form of love where even acts of charity were futile if divorced from the love and will of God.

“Anonymous” charity – that is, actions devoid of love; empty – is self-absorbing at best, and an offense to God at worst. For Augustine came to realize, through the humility to which the Cross inevitably brings us, that an act of charity (that word is also translated as “love”) is a godly construct. The poor, who we will always have with us, inspire us to imitate Christ in their care… and that pleases God.

That the humility, even the shame, of the Cross, takes us (drags us?) to more of an outwardly focused life, is the essence of the fulfilled believer’s life on earth. We evolve from awareness to compassion to identification to brokenness with the hurting, needy, and dependent. Which is, of course, our state too. Even when we are in Christ – I say, even MORE so, when we are in Christ – we must practice sacrificial love, tender mercy, and authentic assistance.

“That TV moment” I mentioned above is when political types, and TV watchers, had a chance to think about the drift – more like a tsunami – of the past several generations. It is mighty hard to maintain the impulse of individual response, when the “world system” keeps saying it is not our job, but theirs. St Augustine seemed to be looking 1600 years into the future when he wrote, “Woe to the soul which supposes it will find something better if it forsakes You!”

+ + +

Casting Crowns and the Beanscot Channel combine for a simple but powerful lesson drawn from true “Christian Charity” – with Christ in our hearts we trust Him more; and with Christ in our hearts we do His will more willingly.

Click: It’s So Sweet To Trust in Jesus

(Last week’s music was from an ancient opera, Dido and Aeneas by Henry Purcell, which prompted a few questions about a “pagan” theme. First, I offered it with a Christian application, but [“full circle”] St Augustine himself is thought to have patterned the structure, not the contents, of his Confessions after The Aeneid. And Virgil, of course, patterned his epic after Homer’s Odyssey. And my point was that the nation of America, like the character Dido, is appropriate for a Lament to be sung.)

9-12-11

The 9-11 commemorations are over, and perhaps America, now, will get back in the saddle she was knocked from a decade ago. I am afraid not, however. For 10 years I have been a pretty lonely man on this issue. I take back seat to no one in my love of country; I bleed red, white, and blue; and was as angry as anybody then who did not actually lose a loved one in Manhattan, Virginia, or Pennsylvania.

Someone recently asked, “Do you remember where you were on September 11, 2001? Did you wonder, then, how changed you might be 10 years later?” I have to admit that I thought ahead to Now, and I dreaded the premonition that in 2011 America would be engaging in self-pity instead of righteous anger; political correctness instead of correct politics; and the further ceremonialization of our culture.

I take nothing from the awe-inspiring service of first-responders who lost their lives on 9-11. But they were not heroes because they, in some instances, ran into burning buildings, in order to seek people to save. They were doing their jobs. They were brave; they were extraordinarily courageous. But – I am making a point about our society’s changing and confused values – a fireman is not a hero because he dies in a burning building. Firemen and police are heroes; and sometimes they have to do dangerous things. Heroes live among us, and should be honored now, not only in show-biz (usually, these days, secular) “moments of silence” ceremonies.

I hope I am being clear; and I mean to say that words are important, because essential values lie behind words. I recently spoke to a group about America’s current crises, and I asked various questions about the victims of terrorism, concerning 9-11. The group’s discussion addressed the three sites of attack; the number of people who were killed at one place, and another, and on the planes.

I told them, and I submit to you, that the people who died on 9-11 were not the victims of terrorism. They were, simply, murder victims. To call the perpetrators anything than murderers is to pay them a compliment. Using the word “terrorism” makes their crime somehow qualified, less than totally monstrous. The dead on 9-11 were murdered. We, the survivors, were terrorized.

We are the victims of terrorism. And we are losing that war. We have allowed our way of life to be altered, our rights to be restricted, and our treasury bankrupted. The hard questions about what has happened in 10 years cannot sufficiently be answered by a shrug of our shoulders and another question, “What else could we do?”

Here is what I mean about the ceremony-mad society. When Redcoats attacked citizens in Boston, the patriots did not meet for annual Moments of Silence – they grabbed their muskets. When Fort Sumter was shelled, a war commenced; and when Fort Sumter was re-taken, there were no plaques with every soldier’s name – the Stars and Stripes was proudly raised again. Pearl Harbor filled us with anger – not sorrow or guilt.

Abraham Lincoln once said, “My concern is not whether God is on our side; my greatest concern is to be on God’s side, for God is always right.” Franklin Roosevelt of all people, the president of the United States, led the nation in a public prayer on D-Day: “Help us, Almighty God, to rededicate ourselves in renewed faith in Thee in this hour of great sacrifice. Many people have urged that I call the nation into a single day of special prayer. But because the road is long and the desire is great, I ask that our people devote themselves in a continuance of prayer. As we rise to each new day, and again when each day is spent, let words of prayer be on our lips, invoking Thy help to our efforts.”

Back to the 9-11 Decade. Let the diplomats explain why America kicked into overdrive on a crusade for global empire. Let the politicians explain why personal freedoms were expropriated at a breathtaking rate. Let the financiers explain why criminal monetary and fiscal policies – prosperity that was too good to be true – was too good to be true, and they all knew what they were doing.

But we should all look for Christians to explain (and that means looking in the mirror, too) how the last decade has seen an unprecedented war on Christianity, a successful war, right here in America. To start a list of outrages – from high courts to low sitcoms, from the national Administration to everyday textbooks – would fill more columns than the web could carry. Babies killed; homosexuality sanctioned; God’s name banished from schools and the public place; prayers outlawed.

If the attackers were bent on kicking America out of the Middle East, they failed. If they wanted to bring down the government, it did not happen. If they intended to destroy the economy, it has bent but not snapped. But if they attacked America because we were a Christian nation, founded on biblical principles and inheritors of a Christian heritage… America has responded, in too many respects, by declaring a victory – for the attackers. Happy anniversary.

Anti-Christian prejudice is on the rise in places like Pakistan and Egypt – partly, I am sure, because of America’s post-9-11 policies – but there is one major difference: in those countries, and China, and North Korea, and elsewhere the church is under attack… the underground church is growing. However, not in America. Here, persecution seems to lead Christians to be even more apologetic to the atheists or Satanists down the street who are offended when they hear a Boy Scout recite the Pledge of Allegiance.

Christians must cease being confused about what Christ would have us do when His church, His children, are threatened. He put righteousness above “peace” in the Temple, and surely would not have His church dismantle itself. That would not be “love,” but camouflaged weakness; and to compromise with evil, guarantees the presence of evil. Once upon a time, the church was as militant about its turf as it was its faith, for one thing was necessary in order to exercise the other. Not only Christians but Christendom was muscular in its self-defense. If it were not for Christian warriors like Charles Martel at Tours; Charlemagne and Roland at Saragossa; and Jan Sobieski at the Battle of Vienna, Europe would long ago (1200 years ago) have been Muslim. And the Reformation, for all of its intellectual and spiritual force, only succeeded in Europe when princes identified themselves, and their armies acted, as members of one form of Christianity or another.

These Christian warriors, despite and subsequent to occasional zealotry, largely made Europe safe for the practice of Christianity. “Terrorism” is just the latest form of invasion. The invaders have discovered a society more concerned with opponents’ “feelings” than its own freedoms and children’s security. When the president of the United States declares in an Arab capital that America is not a Christian nation; and when the mayor of New York City prohibits public prayer at the latest 9-11 media ceremony… well, you can go back to, say, the epic poem “The Song of Roland” (circa 1050) and read of traducers in the ranks of the Franks at Ronceveaux, and what almost happened, in that stirring legend, to Christian Europe.

Christianity, in any society or country, cannot simultaneously assert its right to exist and surrender its prerogatives. We do not need to lead ugly crusades in order to affirm our traditional status in the United States of America, a Christian nation. But we do have to decide whether the 9-11 Decade was the last breath of a brief, misguided period of self-doubt; or the first dawn of extinction in this culture.

+++

From the ancient opera Dido and Aeneas by Henry Purcell, an allegory about William and Mary based on Virgil’s Aeneid. The hauntingly mournful “Dido’s Lament” is here juxtaposed with photographs of the traditional American landscape. Our homeland once and…

“When I am laid in earth / am laid in earth / May my wrongs create no trouble, no trouble in thy breast. / Remember me! Remember me! / But, ah, forget my fate!” The singer is Emma Kirby.

Click: Remember Me Lament

9-5-11

It is my observation that when Christians feel they have let God down, it is usually not because of some grievous sin, but more often a feeling that their faith was lacking… their trust has fallen short… that we have not put into practice what we know to be the truth. And we are aware that this grieves the heart of God.

(By the way, this has been my observation, not from eagle-eye examinations of other Christians, but of my own actions and inactions.)

Those feelings about the heart of God probably are correct. We have sinful natures, but God already gifted us with provisions for sin: grace, forgiveness, justification, salvation. We can know today that our sins can be transformed from scarlet stains to pure-white. But when we get to points in our lives, which we all surely have or will, when we just don’t have enough faith in one area… or we cannot summon enough trust in God’s promises… or we know those Bible verses, and God’s will for our lives, and Jesus’s 24/7 availability… but we don’t attain the answer or victory or peace – this doesn’t mean we are bad Christians.

It just means we are… Christians.

That’s right. Normal, flawed, struggling, doubting, hurting, Christians. The only kind there is, actually. We might be saved, but we still can be confused at times. Sometimes our hearts are together, but our heads get messed up. Or vice-versa. Welcome to the human race. We are forgiven, not perfect… remember?

What grieves God, I believe, is that He does not want us to go through these things, feeling alone. He sent the Holy Spirit to comfort us, strengthen us, give us wisdom. Too many Christians, at low points, feel the need to prove to God that we can make it. Yeah, we can pull it together. Watch: I’ll remember all those promise-verses. Maybe I’ll prove to my friends that my faith is getting me through. I’ll make You proud of me again, God.

But how many Christians say, “I just can’t do this, God! Help me!” or “I surrender! I need you!!” There is nothing shameful in that. Just the opposite. Christianity is the only religion in the world – in fact, the only system of any construction – where Surrender equals Victory.

When we were born again, we did not become Gods. We became children of God. What child, feeling sad, does not run and cry “Daddy!” (the translation of “Abba”) – and what loving father does not receive that child in love?

Confess, surrender, ask for forgiveness; such, I believe, is the essence of the law and the prophets. And the gospel. It is the reason, the very reason, that God makes Himself known to us in the person of the Holy Spirit. No fight left? No problem – Jesus is our yoke, our strong arm, our strength, our fortress, our deliverer. Our Savior. Would you have Him sit on the sidelines while you struggle?

+++

There is no fight left on the inside now… but maybe that’s where I should be. These are words from J J Hellers’s amazing song.

Click: No Fight Left