Richard C. Stern
Professor of
Homiletics, Saint Meinrad School
of Theology
Abstract
This article examines the music
of two bluegrass gospel composers to assess how the theologies in their songs compare.
The theo-symbolic code from John McClure’s Four Codes of Preaching provides the reader with a means for discerning the
theological elements in a song, sermon, or other artifact, and how the several
elements relate to one another. The article concludes that while the composers’
theologies have similarities, at a deeper level there are subtle but important
differences that reflect their distinct theological backgrounds.
“More persuasively than words
alone, music expresses what we believe about God. It proclaims the terms of
our relationship with each other. It connects our faith to the tangible
concerns that confound our world.”[1]
“The tunes are both ancient and
recently composed. The words of songs always tell us of the basic theology of
the people.”[2]
[1] As musical
genres go, bluegrass music is barely into its adolescence, with 1946 often
cited as its birth year. Nevertheless, bluegrass has experienced some growing
pains and controversy about whether or not some of its more recent practitioners
have stayed in or strayed from the sacred canons. One can hardly open a Bluegrass
Unlimited or Bluegrass Now magazine without reading a fan’s letter defending or
decrying a band’s adaptation of the bluegrass sound and ethos. Heated
discussions break out among festival attendees about whether or not a band
should have been invited to play at the festival.
[2] Whether it
is viewed as a positive or as a negative, change has taken place in the overall
sound(s) of bluegrass music. From its conception, however, bluegrass music has
been an amalgamation of musical influences: folk, gospel, country, old time,
blues, Celtic, etc. Topics and themes of songs have expanded from the earliest
days of Bill Monroe and Flatt and Scruggs. There is more variety in melodies,
chord structures, and harmony. Songs have been adapted from antecedent forms
to fit the beat, style, and instrumentation by bluegrass musicians raised on
and trained in increasingly diverse musical genres. New songs have been
written. Bluegrass then has always been a synthetic form, a fusion
incorporating and integrating elements from other genres to create a distinct
sound. Bill Monroe is credited as the founder of bluegrass music, the one who
brought together and blended these various influences. In the eyes of many,
however, it was not until Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs joined Monroe’s band,
the Blue Grass Boys, that all the crucial elements were in place. Since those
earliest years, bands have tried to remain true to their sense of the bluegrass
form while, at the same time, developing a signature sound identifiable within
the genre, whether as traditional, progressive, newgrass, or jam grass.
[3] A bluegrass
sub-genre where evolution has also taken place is bluegrass gospel music. Gospel songs have been a significant element
of the bluegrass repertoire from its beginnings. Regardless of their own
religious beliefs, values, and practices, there is hardly a bluegrass band that
does not include at least a few bluegrass gospel songs, whether traditional or
original, on its playlist. Many bluegrass bands, notably the Lewis family and
the Sullivan family bands, have been oriented exclusively to gospel music for
well over 50 years.
[4] The opening
quotations suggest the importance of music both in forming and in reflecting
religious values, obviously even more the case with bluegrass gospel. Lingering
awhile over the lyrics, one may eventually be prompted to wonder if there is a
discernible framework of congruent theological elements that is embedded in bluegrass
gospel music? Is there a common bluegrass theology, the same from song to song,
composer to composer? Has the theology changed over time? Can the lyrics serve
as clues to the theology of the lyricist? These are questions which prompt this
brief comparison of the gospel lyrics of the reigning elder statesman of
bluegrass, Dr. Ralph Stanley, and a contemporary bluegrass performer and
composer, Ron Block, the guitarist and banjoist in Alison Krauss’ band, Union
Station.
[5] Writing
about rap artist Eminem, Darren Sarisky, claims, “Studying music for the sake
of cultural engagement requires attention to several aspects. The primary focus
belongs to the lyrics of particular songs, which most directly convey the
message. The advanced exegete may want to consider further the relation of
songs on a particular album. Do these together convey a unified message?
Likewise, it is important to remember that we are talking about music and not just poetry. How does the form of the music
either advance or stand in tension with its content?” [3] Sarisky
lays out an excellent and commendable game plan for a thoroughgoing analysis of
a musical artifact; however the plan is beyond the scope of this study. My
current intentions are more modest; I do not address the music itself, that is,
the melodies.
[6] In a
previous study, I made a case for Stanley’s gospel lyrics as highly consistent
over time and across the many bluegrass gospel songs he has written and
performed.[4] For the purposes of the present effort
I have employed one song from that study, “I’ll Answer the Call.” I explore
Block’s work more broadly, working through one song in direct comparison to the
Stanley song but also drawing upon additional Block material: other lyrics, as
well as theological reflections posted on his website and on his MySpace site.
Block has clearly given considerable thought to his faith as a Christian and
writes eloquently about it whether in his lyrics, in response to reader
questions, or as thoughts or topics come to him. His writings are literate,
articulate, and thoughtfully developed.
[7] Some general
observations are in order regarding origins and trends of bluegrass gospel
music that shape the songs’ content. These trends represent particularly
“American” religious values and coincide with important shifts in American
history. The trends reflect movements that promoted democratization in both the
civil and sacred spheres of an emerging American ethos. Stephen Prothero has
written, “Today the country boasts a sprawling spiritual marketplace, where
religious shoppers can choose among all the world’s great religions, and from a
huge menu of offerings inside each.”[5] [8] It was not always so, of course.
The Puritans left England and Europe, came to the American continent, and
formed tightly regulated, intolerant religious communities. Yet this notion of
an open marketplace of religious beliefs is not merely a contemporary,
postmodern phenomenon. Indeed, the result of the two Great Awakenings,
especially the second in the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, was an
explosion of small religious groups, populist in nature, often gathering around
charismatic figures that practiced and imposed their religious beliefs as they
saw fit. What is curious is that, while this burgeoning democratic milieu made
these groups possible, each tended to be highly sectarian and autocratic within
its own structure. Although clearly a populist movement, the democratic impulse
was not extended to each group’s own policies, procedures, and practices. If
there is “a wideness in God’s mercy,” such wideness was not evident in the
practices of many sects.[6] Yet, an important feature of these
various movements is how they “empowered ordinary people by taking their
deepest spiritual impulses at face value rather than subjecting them to the
scrutiny of orthodox doctrine and the frowns of respectable clergymen.”[7] Personal experience supplanted tradition, doctrine, and hierarchical authority.
Writing about the Second Great Awakening, Jeffrey Kuess notes, “One of the key
features of this period is the stress placed on the individual’s right to think
and act for himself or herself and to determine by way of one’s own reading of
Scripture that which is binding for the individual Christian.”[8]
[9] To a degree,
however, this individualism was ironically institutionalized around various
charismatic leaders. The individualist attitude resonates with many current,
post-modern sentiments, particularly in relation to a radical individualism and
the quest for spiritual enlightenment at the expense of, even to the exclusion
of, institutional religion. Yet the postmodern seems to lack the intentional
and deeper tradition-borne communal instinct of earlier populist leanings. The
mega-churches may be this era’s response to this inclination for community,
unlike the “micro-churches” that once sprouted up on every corner and in vacant
store fronts, especially in the South. The individual-communal dynamic is an
interesting one.
[10] In any
case, the Bible became the sole arbiter of right and wrong, but it was the
individual who judged what the Bible meant unless the individual surrendered
that newly gained right to a charismatic leader. Personal faith and personal
experience became the canons of orthodoxy. There was no need for a mediator
between the individual and God. (Here we detect echoes of the Reformation.) At
the same time that many were breaking free from the reins of religious
institutions (and then re-forming around others of like mind), not
surprisingly, religious music was experiencing parallel movements in a populist
direction. This trend finds expression in both Stanley and Block, although
likely for different reasons. Again, Hatch notes, “The same imperative that
sent many ordinary folk into preaching and writing compelled some to express
themselves in song. “The classic gospel song was simple and easily remembered.
… Its two most common features were a repeated chorus or refrain and verses in
rhyming pairs.” [9] Finally, popular “gospel music became a pervasive reality
… because people wrested singing from churchly control. The music created a
spontaneous, moving medium, capable of capturing the identity of plain people.”[10] In other words, the antecedents of bluegrass gospel music are found in
spiritual music but not necessarily in church music. And so it has, in large part, remained. In this sense,
bluegrass gospel music is a distinctly “popular” genre, that is, of the people
and by the people. It is not institutionally sponsored or supported. It is
infrequently performed within institutional church worship settings (unlike,
for example, contemporary Christian music), and rarely gathered in hymnals
placed in church pews. By and large, these were not hymns intended for use in
congregational worship services. The songs are personal expressions of faith
sung largely in extra-church settings: jam sessions, concerts, and festivals.
This has been the case from the beginning of bluegrass music. It has largely not been associated with “church.” Stanley stands
firmly in the path of this trend. Raised in a Primitive Baptist setting, his
theology clearly is a product of and in line with populist movement(s) of the
Great Awakenings.
[11] For Block,
the individualist perspective on faith also predominates. Based on an assessment
of his lyrics there is hardly a mention of “church” or community in his gospel
songs, little apparent sense of group or corporate or institutional religion,
little in the way of gathering with others of faith. More is noted in his other
writings. Faith seems to be a matter dealing only with one’s relationship to
personal theological concerns, not to one’s role in society, issues of social
justice, etc. The lyrics concern the individual’s relationship with God:
struggles, joys, assurances, faith, etc. Although similar to Stanley at a first
or superficial hearing, Block’s perspective does not seem to be rooted in the
same soil as Stanley’s. Rather, Block’s perspective seems more radically a
product of or a personal reflection on the postmodern breakup of metanarratives
that still inform Stanley’s music as well as his theological anthropology, for
example, that one’s reward for faithful living is in the hereafter, that life
is travail. In this post-era (post-modern, post-liberal, post-Christian,
post-liberal, post-literate, etc.), Block reflects not so much a traditional,
long-standing, deeply embedded notion of sin or imperfect human nature, as with
Stanley, but rather his personal loss of confidence in human reason, and in the
institutions and processes of modernity to answer the exigencies of life. Block
turns inward to examine and nurture his relationship with God, his last and
only hope. The tradition that Stanley represents never had that confidence in
this life, always looking instead to the hereafter, to that far shore. As David
J. Lose observes, “postmodernists tend to call … for pragmatic, ever-local
determinations of the good, the true, and the beautiful.”[11] How
much more local can one get than looking within, intrapersonally?
[12] Writing
about the faith life of young adults, and with reference to Robert Fuller’s Spiritual
but Not Religious, Christian and Amy Piatt
note five characteristics that describe “American spiritual movements.” These
characteristics seem largely to apply to both Stanly and Block.
1. Personal autonomy: They value
the individual’s right to establish one’s own criteria for belief. Religious
doctrines are not simply accepted on faith, but rather are tested through
real-world experience.
2. Sensibility over creeds:
Religious truth is accepted only to the degree that it helps people connect
with the divinity in all living creatures.
3. Impatience with organized religion:
Churches are generally seen as stagnant and out of touch with the rest of the
world. Those who are impatient also include a significant contingency [sic]
that has been hurt, disappointed, or otherwise disenfranchised by religion.
4. Present applicability: They
generally believe the greatest limitation of spiritual growth is not sin, but
rather one’s own limited awareness of one’s potential as a spiritual being.
Instead of focusing on the afterlife, alternative spiritual practices
traditionally have focused on the fullness of the present life.
5. Fascination with the metaphysical:
Interest in the supernatural aspects of human experience and what lies beyond
the physical universe.[12]
[13] It is on
the fourth quality that Stanley and Block diverge. Stanley repeatedly looks to
the afterlife, even longing for death in some lyrics. The contrast in
individualism that is evident, on the one hand, in the roots of the religious
life founded in the Great Awakenings and in postmodernity on the other, might
be summarized by the longing for freedom, even escape, on the one hand, and a
personal loss of confidence in traditional institutions, on the other. The one
is a long-term, embedded longing reinforced over generations by an
anti-hierarchical ecclesiology; the other a personal, disappointed resignation
and re-orientation.
[14] Block is
certainly aware of church and churches. Indeed, in a comment on his website, he
acknowledges the importance of finding a group where one can share faith
matters, a place of “good teaching and fellowship.” He adds, “Inherent in
having a fairly extensive website about identity in and union with Christ is
the God-breathed desire to be read for others—a channel through which
others find a deeper relationship with God, a better understanding of their
union with Christ.”[13] There is clearly no particular
antipathy toward church evident in his lyrics, although he writes elsewhere of
a few but formative negative experiences of hierarchical churches and church
pastors in earlier years. His faith seems largely a matter of deep, personal
reflection rather than a result of a commitment to a long-standing tradition.
Whereas Stanley looks outward—to heaven or to God’s eventual
eschatological intervention—to find his hope for salvation or redemption,
that is, to an afterlife made possible by the death of Jesus the Christ, Block
looks within, to the recognition of an already indwelling God/Christ who can
bring redemptive love into one’s life in the here and now. Block has a
“realized’ eschatology as opposed to a strictly future-oriented eschatology.
For Stanley, the exception that “proves the rule” is a song entitled “I’m in a
New World,” with lyrics by V.B. Ellis:[14] “The Lord has been so
good to me/He set my captive spirit free. … He gave me life so I praise him/Oh
how I’ve changed since I found him.” This is a stark contrast to the rather
grim lyrics typical of Stanley’s gospel repertoire. For Block, the end, the
fulfillment, is both a present and a future reality.
[15] In order
further to categorize the theological currents evident in Stanley and Block,
one could certainly use traditional theological categories: theology (in its
narrow sense referring to the first person of the Trinity), pneumatology,
christology, soteriology, theological anthropology, eschatology, etc. However,
these labels seem inadequate to point out the relationship of the parts to each
other, inadequate to bring to the surface some sort of narrative or unifying
thread that holds the parts together. So, to compare these two
performers/composers, I employ an adaptation of a schema developed by John
McClure, who, in Four Codes of Preaching and
a related work, Sermon Sequencing: A Workbook to Increase Your
Homiletic Options, works from sources in
the realm of structuralist literary theory.[15] These works provide a
handy, portable frame within which to conduct an examination of the lyrics.
[16] McClure
proposes that a sermon should ideally be encoded in four ways or in four codes:
the semantic code (the idea), the scriptural code (scriptural warrant for the
idea), the cultural code (contact with or relevance to the culture of the
presumed hearer), and the theo-symbolic code. In a preaching example, one would
be especially attentive to how the sermon’s codes or the preacher’s encoding
match up to that of the intended hearers. This may be less discernible in song
lyrics than in preaching, yet as one dwells with a song and then expands the
scope of analysis, trends emerge. The emphasis in this article is on the
theo-symbolic code, that is, the theological worldview present in a song’s
lyrics. This could include observations or beliefs about humanity; about the
nature of God’s work, will, and/or word; about life and death, etc. The
encoding can be explicit or implicit, conscious or unconscious.
[17] Within the
theological code is a six-element grid that is useful in discerning or parsing
the elements in a given artifact. Do all the elements coordinate to create an
integrated system, or is the picture made up of fractured and ill-fitting
elements? This grid is especially useful in exploring narrative forms. The
compressed nature of bluegrass gospel lyrics obviously minimizes extensive
drawing out of the narrative in a given song; however, there is often a story
or a precipitating situation that stands in the background of the song even if
it is not explicitly detailed in the lyrics. One can employ this scheme in something
as monumental as The Odyssey or Lord of the Rings or in a form as brief as a bluegrass gospel song.
[18] The six
theo-symbolic factors are:
(1)
The Giver provides something of value: salvation, reward, peace, happiness,
love, etc. The Giver may not be God but nevertheless has something that is not
necessarily available in the usual scheme of the mundane.
(2)
The Object is that which the Giver offers. The widespread interest in
spirituality suggests that there is something people search for that is not
satisfied or provided in their daily affairs. James Wallace, in Preaching to
the Hungers of the Heart, lists these as
meaning, wholeness, and belonging.[16]
(3)
The Receiver is in the position of needing or desiring the Object that the
Giver offers. It is under this rubric that one considers the nature of the
Receiver, the situation of the Receiver, and the ability or inability of the
Receiver to acquire the Object. The Receiver might be a particular individual
or humanity in general.
(4)
The Subject is the one who acquires the Object for the Receiver. In some
settings the Subject might also be labeled the Hero, one who goes on a quest
for that which the Receiver requires for completion. Self-sacrifice is often
required of the Subject in order to acquire the Object.
(5)
The Helper aids the Subject in the quest for or acquisition of the Object. (You
might think of Sam helping the hero Frodo on his journey. Or is it Sam who is
the self-sacrificing hero?). In Christian terms, the Helper might be the Holy
Spirit, the Church, or a prophet.
(6)
Finally, the Opponent is the factor that stands in the way of the Receiver
obtaining the Giver’s Object. The opponent might be personified as Satan. It
might also be a perverse human nature.
[19] McClure
then situates the elements on a grid that allows one to visualize the
relationship of the elements. The grid appears as follows:
Giver_____________________Object_________________
Receiver
|
|
Helper
____________________Subject ________________Opponent
After working
through the lyrics of a single song or of a collection of songs, one begins to
make some judgments about how the elements interact. Which elements predominate;
which ones recede or are absent altogether? When examining a collection of
songs by a composer, do the relationships among the factors change from song to
song? Does the nature of one or more of the factors change over time?
[20] The
relationship of the several theo-symbolic factors coalesces to provide an
overall theological worldview made manifest in the lyrics. McClure proposes
five worldviews: tensive, oppositional, equilibrational, permutational, and
iconoclastic. The tensive is the emphasis
is on the prevalence of bad news. The task is to figure out a way to live in
the world given its fallen state. One concludes that there is an irresolvable
tension in human life (ppositional worldview one also finds bad news, but there is an emphasis on opposing this bad news. One can and should resist its
pervasive influence; however, “[r]esolutions to the human dilemma are partial
or promissory at best” In equilibration, the bad news is balanced by the presence of good news that “has already resolved the essential problems at the core of the
human dilemma, and the. . . task is to [move] the congregation toward this
realization” The perspective is that the good news is overtaking the bad news,
despite appearances to the contrary. permutational worldview, good news predominates. Bad news only
serves to highlight the good of the good news: “Not only is the human dilemma
resolved but there is a tremendous, qualitative gain or surplus to be
discovered in the way that you render your theological ideas.” The final
worldview is the iconoclastic, in
which the composer seeks to reverse common notions and assumptions of the
hearer. What appears to be bad news is good, and what appears to be good news
is bad [17]
[21] How then
does the theology of Ralph Stanley, the Primitive Baptist, compare to that of
Ron Block, the postmodernist? Both, coincidentally, are banjo players. One was
born in 1927; the other in 1964. One is from rural Virginia; the other from
southern California. One had parents who were primarily rural farmers; the
other’s father was a musician and owned a rock 'n' roll music store.
Additional points of comparison related to theology will emerge, both
similarities and dissimilarities. With all of this in mind and with the
awareness of the risks inherent in such a venture, let us compare one song from
each composer to see what emerges by parsing the lyrics according to the
theo-symbolic grid. The songs are Ralph Stanley’s “I’ll Answer the Call” from
the Rebel CD of the same name, and Ron Block’s “A Living Prayer,” from the
Alison Krauss and Union Station album, Lonely Runs Both Ways, a Rounder recording. Complete lyrics can be heard
on the albums.
[22] As noted
earlier, I have previously done some analysis of Stanley, so here I use only
one representative Stanley song. With Block, I begin with the lyrics of his
gospel song but then look for support in other materials. He has a considerable
body of work in the form of theological reflections and answers to readers’
questions, all of which has been available on his website under two headings:
“Writings,” and “Notes from the Road.” The “Writings” under consideration were
copyrighted in 2003. The “Notes” are of more recent vintage but many were removed
from the website in late 2006. In summer 2007, 30 essays were restored to the
website along with new ones. Block has also employed MySpace.com for essays and
reflections.
[23] The Giver. In these instances the
Giver is some conception of God. One must then ask, is this God harsh,
judgmental, forgiving, consoling, personal, remote? What is one’s relationship
to this God? For both Stanley and Block, the conception of God clearly stands
well within a traditional Christian understanding of a Triune God: Father, Son,
and Holy Spirit. Yet it is sometimes difficult to discriminate which person of
the Trinity might be serving what role on the grid. How is the overall
character of God envisioned? What are some of the qualities or characteristics
of this God?
[24] Stanley has
a tendency to conflate the Giver, Subject and Helper roles into “God.” It is
not always clear which person of the Trinity is being referenced. Therefore it
becomes difficult on occasion to neatly discriminate the several roles God
takes on the grid, although the roles are clearly present in the lyrics. This
tendency is not unique to Stanley, however. In common parlance, when Christians
refer to “God,” they are referring to the person of God the Father and not to
the Son or Holy Spirit. On other occasions, however, they refer to God, without
thinking of the separate, distinct persons of the Trinity.
[25] In this
Stanley song, “I’ll Answer the Call,” Jesus is the obvious referent for Lord,
since in the second verse Stanley mentions that the Lord “descended and went
away,” a reference to Jesus’ descent into hell (1 Peter 3:18-20; Ephesians
4:8-10), and at the subsequent ascension to heaven after Jesus’ resurrection
(Luke 24:44-53, Acts 1:6-11). Jesus often fills the role of heroic Subject, but
here seems to function more as the Giver. At the appropriate time, the Lord,
the one who offers the Object, in this case heaven, will call together those
who have journeyed faithfully. Although the narrator directly addresses the
Lord, the image of the Lord here is remote, distant, and even impersonal.
Rightfully so, since the Lord has left the immediate scene.
[26] Although
the roles of Giver, Helper and Subject occasionally overlap for Block as well,
the Giver in “A Living Prayer” serves as the one whose love allows the song’s
narrator to “find release, a haven from my unbelief,” i.e., it is the Father
who gives the love. The Giver might also be that “voice inside my mind,” often
described as the indwelling Christ who provides comfort and calls the narrator
to live “inside the love the Father gives.” This Voice would then fill the role
of Subject, which we will look at shortly. Is this a reference to the
indwelling Spirit? If so, the voice then would more properly fill the role of
Helper. This seems to be a Johannine understanding in which, after the
ascension, the work of Jesus is accomplished by the work of the Holy Spirit,
the Advocate, working in and through faithful followers. Here we bump into the
occasional difficulty of parsing the lyrics.
[27] In the
website commentary on his lyrics for the song “Faraway Land,” Block observes,
“while God [Giver] is transcendent He is also personal, knowable, and actually
longs to be known by us.”[18] This is quite a different claim than
in Stanley’s lyric, which assume God’s distance. In “Is It Any Wonder,” from the album, Faraway Land, the second verse reveals the same relationship of
the Giver, Helper and Subject. “The Man who loved came from above … died to
set us free” [Jesus, the Subject] “[s]howed us the Father [Giver] and the His
love [Object]. This love flows from the Spirit [Helper] “by faith in God
within.” It seems then that it is to God/Giver that the prayer/song is
directed.
[28] The Receiver. In many instances, the
narrator of a song is the Receiver, or one who represents Receivers writ large,
that is, speaking on their behalf or as one of them. Such is the case in the
Stanley song. In Stanley’s song the condition of the Receiver is not a positive
or enviable one. The Receiver has been left alone by the Lord to travel a
“rough and rocky” road until such time as the Receiver is called by the Lord,
presumably to die, at which time the Receiver will do his or her best to
respond. “Road” is a common folk and bluegrass metaphor for life. In Stanley,
there seems to be no opportunity for hope or happiness in this life, although
it would seem to hold some minimal notion of progress along the road. The
opportunity to sing in the “heavenly chorus” or the “angel’s happy band” is the
consolation for enduring the troubled exigencies of this life. Yet the Receiver
disavows any worthiness on this account: “I cannot sing like an angel and I
cannot preach like Paul.” Until that time when the Lord’s call is proclaimed,
the Receiver is asked to “fear not and be patient,” suggesting a wait of
indeterminate length. The Receiver can only wait.
[29] At first
encounter, things appear to be no better for the Receiver in Block’s song. The
Receiver remains caught alone in the “trials of life,” “with no place to call
my home;” the road is still “steep” and rugged as it makes its way through
“barren lands.” The way is also dark. Light and dark themes recur in several
of Block’s songs, a possible influence from his reading of George Macdonald.
Yet, despite the initial feeling of being alone, there is “One who holds my
hand,” who provides “strength to climb.” Stanley and Block appear quite
congruent thus far. But for Block, one is not actually alone, but only feels alone insofar as the Receiver attempts to rely on
her or his own resources to travel the road of faithfulness. The capstone
observation comes with the decisive recognition that the “Savior lives inside
me.” This theme of God as the one who lives in and empowers the believer is a
frequent one in Block’s songs, in particular, the spiritual metaphor of God
residing in one’s heart. For example, the first line of a song from Faraway
Land is “I’m not holding onto Jesus/He’s
holding onto me.” While the image of Jesus’ internal residency is stretched,
the basic sentiment endures; Jesus is doing the work. On the same album, lyrics
for the song “Faraway Land” include, “It’s just as far as my deepest
heart/Where my Father lives,” and “You can’t close your eyes forever/To the One
who lives within.” In “Searching,” Block claims in the chorus, “Deep inside my
heart/He leads me along.”
[30] There is a
significant but subtle difference between Stanley and Block: Stanley’s Receiver
must be content with the knowledge that salvation is a future event and that
the only option for the moment is to endure until the Lord returns. Block’s
Receiver has something in this life to
look to in the way of relief and release, “a haven from my unbelief,”
deliverance from “these trials of life.” There is the possibility of more than
sheer endurance in life as it exists now. For Block, the Saviour can be present
and knowable in the here and now, in our hearts, not at all remote; indeed,
quite personal. This “voice inside my mind” comforts and “bids me live/Inside
the love the Father gives.” Finally, the Receiver offers his life to the
Father, “Take my life and let me be/A living prayer, my God, to thee,” words
reminiscent of the opening verse of the hymn by Frances R. Havergal, “Take my
life, and let it be/Consecrated, Lord, to thee.”
[31] In commenting
on his website about the lyrics to “Faraway Land,” Block observes that “As I’ve
gotten older I’ve realized that Christ lives within the temple I call 'myself';
the faraway land is always right here inside of me simply awaiting my
recognition.”[19] The apostle Paul wrote in Galatians
2:20, that it was no longer he who lived, but Christ who lived within him.
Similarly, Block sings in “Faraway Land,” “Turn again to the one in you,” and
later “I will live, ‘cause He will live in my place.” Likewise in “Searching,”
Block writes, “Deep inside my heart/He leads me along.” In other songs, Block
variously describes this life, the situation of the Receiver, as “cold,”
“trials, trouble and care,” “hard to bear,” “a world of trouble,” “odd,” and
more.
[32] The Object. What is it that the Receiver hopes to get from the
Giver? Or, what is it that the Giver has to offer the Receiver? In Stanley’s
case, the Object is deliverance from this life to a heavenly chorus in the
“happy land.” This theme recurs in many of Stanley’s lyrics. In this particular
song there are various references or allusions in the song to the heavens if
not to Heaven: Milky Way, singing angel bands, heavenly chorus, glory, and
more. The Object may simply be thought of as salvation or deliverance from this
life. There is more than removal of the bad or evil from the contemporary
scene. One looks to the reversal of fortunes that takes place along with
removal from this life to the next. There is a reward for endurance beyond the
cessation of the trials. But for now, our responsibility is to “fear not and be
patient,” that is, to faithfully endure. How we are to accomplish or acquire
this endurance is not explored in this song.
[33] For Block,
the Object is the love referred to in the refrain in which the narrator finds
release, “a haven from my unbelief.” Faith, as well, is the Object. The same
image is used in “Another Life I’m Living On.” The second verse proclaims, “I
can’t love if I’m alive/I can’t make the sacrifice/When I see that I am dead/Another
voice comes through my head.” The second verse observes that “God is love and
we’re the branches on the tree/Dependent on the love to live the life we cannot
[on our own] live.” Our basic condition is one of illusion, the illusion that
we do not need God.
[34] Other songs
confirm this perspective. From “Is It any Wonder?”—“Love flows from
Spirit [Helper] by faith in God [Giver] within, … He [Subject] rose above and
the Father’s [Giver’s] love came down to live in men [Receiver].” From “Let Me
Be You:” “I hung my head before the Lord who lives within my heart/He said …
You’re trying, oh so hard, to do what I must do …”
[35] The Subject. For Stanley, the Subject
in this song under consideration is the Lord, who “descended and went away.”
This is likely an allusion to Ephesians 4:7-10 and 1 Peter 3:18-20, Christ's
descent to hell and his subsequent ascension. What action or quest does the
Subject make on the Receiver’s behalf? This is not explicitly developed in this
song, although in other songs, the lyrics refer to Jesus’ death on the cross.
[36] For Block
also, the Giver, Subject and Helper are sometimes combined, although not in
this song. If any role stands out in “A Living Prayer,” it is the role of
Subject, the one who enables the Receiver to acquire the Object from the Giver.
Without being named as Jesus or as the Christ, the Subject here is the “One who
holds my hand,” “He’s become my eyes to see,” “the Savior lives inside me
there.” The lyrics of “Is It Any Wonder?” provide some additional clues to this
role. In the third verse are the words, “the Father’s love came down to live
in men, /Love flows from Spirit by faith in God within.” Here it is clear that
the Father is the Giver, love is what the Father gives, and this love is
distributed by the Spirit. The Subject is not explicitly mentioned or
identified in this verse. In the previous verse, however, the Subject seems to
be identified as “The Man who loved came from above, was born in Galilee,” that
is, Jesus.
[37] The Helper. There is no discretely
identified Helper in Stanley’s “I’ll Answer the Call.” As in many Stanley
songs, the roles of Giver, Helper and Subject have been combined or collapsed.
[38] In Block’s
“A Living Prayer,” the Helper would seem to be the “voice inside my mind,”
aided by the Spirit that comforts the narrator’s fears and calls the narrator
to live “inside the love of the Father,” the Giver. Here the roles are
discrete. Consistent with this are lines from “Is It Any Wonder?”: “He rose
above and the Father’s love came down to live in men/Love flows from the Spirit
by faith in God.” This is a good, concise summary of Block’s overall
perspective on Object, Giver, Subject, and Helper.
[39] The Opponent. Restricted only to the
verses of this one song, this is a difficult matter to decipher for Stanley.
The Opponent is largely inferred by the song’s hearers based on the unpleasant
conditions under which the narrator must exist. There is certainly the
perception that things are not as they should be, nor as they were intended.
The narrator longs for something better. The status quo is hopefully only a
stop on the way to something better. The Opponent could be interpreted as life
itself, at least in its present “fallen” condition. The Opponent may also be
the absence of the Lord whose return either signals or effects a better day.
[40] Given the
parameters of this single Block song, “A Living Prayer,” the Opponent is only
slightly more obvious for Block. However, even subtle clues are available and
suggest a difference in the identity of the Opponent. In this song, the
Opponent would not seem to be a personified other for Block. Quite the
contrary, on the basis of this and other songs by Block, the Opponent is mostly
identified as our own persistent tendency toward and preference for
self-sufficiency. It is this misperception of our abilities and powers that
leads us astray and away from reliance on that which makes us whole—the
God within. The opposing force is the human insistence on the pretense of
independence. Only surrender to the Giver’s love, manifested in the recognition
of the Saviour’s presence, can free us from this illusory bind.
[41] Lyrics in
other songs provide support for this insight into Block’s perception of the
Opponent as the illusion of or desire for self-sufficiency. In “He’s Holding
onto Me,” Block writes in the first verse, “There’s a path along life’s highway
[a recurrence of the road imagery]/So common and well trod/By the shoes of
burdened Christians/Who won’t put their trust in God/… they trust in their own
effort/Never living in belief.” In the accompanying commentary on this song,
Block writes that “we set about trying to please God by what we do and don’t
do. This mindset of self-effort is the enemy of the fruitful life in Christ.” Similarly,
in commentary on “Another Life I’m Living On” he writes, “we get so caught up
in looking at our actions as indicators of reality, rather than taking God at
his word that we find ourselves caught up in a cycle of
try—sin—repent—try—sin—repent. This self-effort
is in itself sin, because it is based on unbelief.” As one final example, in
“Searching,” the opening verse speaks of “Faith in what is seen/Endless days
are wasted/Wandering in unreality.” The real is what is illumined by complete
faith and trust in God.
[42] In a
MySpace entry posted on Wednesday, April 11, 2007, entitled “Jesus Christ: The
Human Dilemma (Part 2),” Block writes that, “Our human dilemma is really an
inability or unwillingness to let go and to trust God.” “We choose independence
from God, which allows us to continue doing as we please but has a fallout of
insecurity, fear and dependence on everything but God.”[20]
[43]
Occasionally, Block refers to Satan, as in a discussion of Isaiah 14. The
identity of that which causes or reinforces the “human dilemma” is named as the
devil, as Satan. In a website essay of April 9, 2007, entitled “The Ancient Lie
of Self-Effort,” Block states, “I WILL. It is the essence of Satan’s being.”[21]
Summary
and Conclusion
[44] A cursory
listen to the bluegrass gospel work of Ralph Stanley and Ron Block might detect
little in the way of differences of theological perspective. Both performers
find the life here and now to be wanting, with little in the way of intrinsic
reward or promise. Both seek God outside of the daily routines of life.
However, a closer analysis reveals subtle but important differences between the
two composers. Using the parameters of McClure’s theo-symbolic coding, Stanley
clearly has a “tensive” theological worldview. His view of God is of a remote
God. Salvation is seen as a personal event. Endurance is one’s best, really the
only, faithful option. There is no point in actively opposing evil, that is,
presuming that an individual has the wherewithal to counter the efforts of evil,
although neither should one surrender.
[45] At first
glance, many features of Stanley’s family of images recur in the work of Ron
Block. They are images common to much Christian music, bluegrass gospel
included. The point of divergence is a very different view of the possibilities
in this life and in the radical individualism present in Block. For Stanley,
there appears to be no possibility for redemption in this life, and his
individualism is somewhat tempered compared to Block’s.
[46] Block’s overall
theological worldview may be a little harder to capture. This is not because
there is any inconsistency or ambivalence on his part. But on the basis of
this one song, it is hard to assess the relative weight of the Receiver’s
initial condition, which is similar to Stanley’s, until the “Savior lives
inside me.” With Block, total surrender of self-will and self-sufficiency
creates the necessary conditions for the indwelling God to free one from
slavery to illusions and false hopes. If the new condition provides reason for
hope but little expectation of dramatic change, i.e., if there is only a
glimpse of the restored life, then the worldview would be “oppositional.” If
the old and new are roughly equivalent in weight or strength, although there is
reason to believe the new will ultimately win out, then the worldview is
“equilibrational.” If the new order is of a significantly greater magnitude
than the old, the worldview would be “permutational.” I opt for the last as
best capturing Block’s perspective, the permutational. There is an optimism
that pervades Block’s works, although it is not a cheery optimism. His lyrics
recognize hardship and the very likely possibility of suffering, but it is more
than countered by the good and by God, if we can only surrender false
expectations and our persistent preference for self-direction and
self-sufficiency. Looking at other Block gospel lyrics, at Block’s own
commentary on his lyrics, and at his theological essays, the picture gets
clearer, the impressions and images consolidated.
[47] Moving
beyond the parameters of these two songs, it is interesting to note that
neither performer gives evidence of a highly developed ecclesiology or doctrine
of church. There is precedent for this position in the historical-theological
roots of the Primitive Baptist tradition of which Stanley is a part. This
movement developed with a distinct anti-hierarchical and anti-clerical
perspective. Block, on the other hand, seems to represent a different
perspective, a postmodern perspective that operates without an overarching
meta-narrative, biblical, ecclesial or otherwise. One’s roots, if that is even
a viable descriptor in a postmodern perspective, are located in personal
experience and personal belief without reference to tradition. Yet, for both
Stanley and Block, faith is seen as a personal and not a communal event.
[48] An analysis
of the lyrics of Ralph Stanley and Ron Block suggests that while bluegrass
gospel music has continuity over time, it also has demonstrated elasticity.
Themes are similar, yet the undergirding theology has evolved to embrace new
cultural perspectives. This suggests that further growth is possible and
likely. In June 2007, Ron Block released a second CD of his religious music
entitled DoorWay. It will be
interesting to see how his theology may have developed.
Notes
