Sabatino DiBernardo
University
of Central Florida
Abstract
It may seem as though religion, and along with it the
prophetic voice, is and has long been on a steady decline in terms of wider
societal and spiritual significance in our increasingly postmodern Western
culture. This paper will provide a theoretical counterpoint to this prevailing
ethos by means of reflection upon the reappearance and recontexualization of
the perennial Western theological notion of idol(atry). The resurrection of this theme by means of the
“reality” television show American Idol will serve as an entrance point into (popular) music culture in an
attempt to distill potential religio-theological implications for contemporary
culture.
You shall not have other
gods besides me. You shall not carve idols . . . you shall not bow down before
them and worship them.
(Exodus 20:3-5, NAB)
“[...C]ome, make us a god who
will be our leader... ” Aaron replied, “Have your wives and sons and
daughters take off the golden earrings they are wearing, and bring them to me.”
So all the people took off their earrings and brought them to Aaron, who
accepted their offering, and fashioning this gold with a graving tool, made a
molten calf.” Then they cried out, “This is your God, O Israel, who brought
you out of the land of Egypt.
(Exodus 32: 1-4, NAB)
[...S]ounding out idols.
There are more idols than realities in the world... Without music, life
would be an error.
Nietzsche, Twilight of the Idols
[1] Whether it is golden calves, golden globes, or, in its
latest incarnation, golden idols offered during the grand finale of the
“reality” television show American Idol (mimicking yet miming in one simultaneous gesture the self-congratulatory
formulations of an industry that includes itself), the “coveted” golden images
of adoration and idolatry share a long history. This history continues in the
migration of this imagery into contemporary postsecular[1] culture
in the form of the music industry and American Idol. Even if it may seem as though religion, and along
with it the prophetic voice, is and has long been on a steady decline in terms
of wider societal and spiritual significance in our increasingly postmodern
Western culture, this appearance is only one of many possible stories in our
culture(s). This paper will focus on another appearance, that of a religious profanation
that has critiqued, mimicked, and, subsequently, mimed the object of its
profanation to such an extent, one might say a religious extent, that in the process a reversal of sorts has
been effected, engendering a postsecular form of religiosity—a profane
religiosity for those literally “outside” or “in front of” the temple (pro
fanum). In this singular yet divided
occurrence of mutual contamination, the profane has transgressed itself in its
violation of the boundaries and inner sanctum of the temple, while the
religious has transgressed its place of privilege by spilling out beyond the
walls of the temple into the
“outside” world thereby problematizing the inside/outside distinction and
“baptizing” the profane as the profane continues “secularizing” the religious.
This essay will suggest that a religious profanation within (popular) music culture has been instantiated
as the site of both the death and resurrection of contemporary religious
sensibilities, necessitating a rethinking of the shape of religion/spirituality
in contemporary culture. Its focus is on the Western theological theme of idol(atry) in American Idol as an entrance point into the phenomenon of
contemporary (popular) music culture(s) and its association with religion.
[2] As the curtain closed on yet another season of American
Idol, one could not help but take the
opportunity to reflect upon its meteoric success by way of a narrative
regarding its capturing of popular culture’s imagination—even if,
perhaps, there is no such singular, uniform thing. This quest of and for the
idol, whether it be a matter of making, following or becoming one, has
reintroduced the premodern theme of idolatry for our postmodern consideration.
Its co-opting of the religio-theological sign provides a fascinating glimpse
into the popular imagination for philosophers and scholars of religion
interested in the intersection of religion, music and (popular) culture. By
inaugurating a new pilgrimage for idol hopefuls eager to take their place among
the growing pantheon, it has simultaneously given rise to a new cyber-community
of the devout fan(atic)s who tune in weekly and access streaming videos or
blogs regarding the latest happenings in the lives of their beloved idol
contenders. With nightly registered votes in the millions, American
Idol has solidified its apex position atop
the relatively new sub-genre of “reality” TV. Given the for-much-profit nature
of the television industry, its economic success has already been marked in the
context of revenue generated by commercials, sponsorships, merchandise, album,
and ticket sales for its graduate-contestants, among other things. However,
given the myriad reality shows over the past few years and the economic success
that has eluded many of them, American Idol seems to have struck a different and more resonant
chord with the popular mindset.
[3] Before exploring some possibilities for this resonance
and its religious implications, following the lead of an esteemed group of
scholars working in the area of religion and (popular) culture,[2] I will
take a moment to address some preliminary questions: Why explore the possible
connections between religion and popular music? What is at stake in this
religio-theological exploration? In other words, why should anyone care?
There are a number reasons why one might care to explore this area in the
broader context of (popular) culture studies in general and religion/music
specifically in this essay. These questions have been raised with preliminary
responses in a concise and convincing manner by the aforementioned group of
scholars at the 2005 annual meeting of the American Academy of Religion and
summarized in their article in the Journal of Religion and Popular Culture.[3] I will briefly summarize their
summary as it relates to this essay.
[4] First, it is important to address the question of merit
and academic significance in order to counteract in a non-defensive manner
common misconceptions (or pejorative axiological valuations) that treat
(popular) culture studies as the “trivial and banal ‘other’ of ‘high culture’”[4] in an attempt to disentangle ourselves from a self-defeating, circular
reinscription of that worn ideological distinction between high and low
culture. Second, it is crucial for the academic study of religion to continue
the self-reflective interrogation of the concept “religion” (not only what it
“is”) but, also, what “its” relationship “is” to the phenomenon known as
culture (popular, mass, or otherwise) in an attempt to preempt the trite “so what”
of much of what goes on in (popular) culture studies. Furthermore, it is
crucial that we “recognize that (popular) culture is the primary medium for the
construction of self and community and for the ongoing process of
meaning-making”[5] and that:
the study of religion, media and
popular culture is also important in clarifying the nature of the relationship
between the sacred and the profane. It can similarly provide opportunities for
reflection about the nature of religion, through examining the religious
significance of particular forms of popular culture. By asking, for example,
whether popular music can serve as a medium for religious experience, or live
sports as a form of religious ritual, it is possible to develop more nuanced
understandings of what we mean categories such “religious experience” or “ritual” and how these might relate to lived experience. Such study can also
problematise established categories for understanding religion—for
example, by demonstrating how clear distinctions between the sacred and profane
break down in the face of the complexities of everyday living.[6]
[5] As it relates to music, this approach may provide a more
nuanced understanding of the religious implications of the phenomenological,
meaning-creating behaviour located within a subculture that has traditionally
been dealt with either in terms of the purported negative consequences of
certain styles of music or the “superfluous” business of entertainment. If the
high/low distinction can be further destabilized and a connection posited
between religion, spirituality and music (thereby redescribing music in terms
of its religious significance), perhaps, more weight may be given (by others,
since those experiencing the self-authenticating force of music typically require
no scholarly validation) to what has heretofore been viewed as simply ancillary
to the serious things of life (whatever those are deemed to be). Given this
trajectory, the emotions, feelings, and life-altering existential/spiritual
experiences of those within these subcultures may be given a voice by clearing
a space within religio-theological thinking for this type of assessment. Thus,
if we include a transposed and improvised mode of religiosity under the
umbrella of “religion”—namely, the religious sensibility found in popular
music and its subcultures—then, perhaps, we may continue to rethink the
shape of contemporary religion in terms of non-institutionalized,
non-traditional, non-dogmatic modes of postsecular representation. In other
words, we might begin to redescribe desires for spiritual identity,
transcendence, community, and proximity to (i.e., in the “presence” of) the
god/idol, among other things, as nonetheless religio-spiritual manifestations instantiated in a displaced, profane temple
or as religion transposed to a different key. In the process one may read this
as a sacralization of the secular
as the secularization of the
sacred continues its nominalizing path through traditional religious
institutions. If one refrains from the all-too-common derogatory axiological
judgments about music and its subcultures grounded in the typical pejorative
clichés that view music, its cultures, and productions as “mere entertainment”
or simply as an oligarchic commodification, one might discover, rather, a new
a/theological locus for contemporary forms of religiosity and spirituality.
[6] Keeping the aforementioned points in mind, let us begin
by examining the concept “idol.” As is the case with definitions, the context
of perceivers establishes the boundaries that circumscribe its respective
meanings. The conventional usage of this term in Western theologies reflected
in the first commandment denotes the notion of worship, adoration, or reverence
of an image of God and/or a false or unworthy god that is due only to the monotheistic, Abrahamic,
True God (Exodus 20:3-5; 32: 3-8). In the biblical context, the god/idol
binary opposition privileges the first pole in an absolute
epistemic/theological fashion over the second pole.[7] Even
within Paul Tillich’s broad definition of religion/faith as one’s ultimate
concern, this binary logic is still
retained in the opposition between that which is and is not worthy (i.e., worth as
value) of one’s ultimate concern—a concern that is more axiological and
existential than epistemic (but nevertheless theological) in nature.[8] J.Z. Smith resonates with this reading of Tillich when he states, “As Tillich’s
earlier concern with topics such as idolatry and the demonic should suggest,
this is not as generous and open ended a definition as might seem to be
implied. There are insufficient, inadequate, and false convictions of
‘ultimacy.’”[9] Thus, the
meaning/function of this term is contingent upon one’s understanding of proper,
true or authentic religiosity (and the possibility of an absolute transcendent
being or concept worthy of such adoration) and subject to the relativities of
this perception. Herein lies the slippery and fluid nature of this binary
opposition, with which we will play later in the essay. Let us recall that to
merely reverse an opposition is not to deconstruct it, since it remains
immersed in a metaphysics of presence that simply shifts the place of privilege
without recognition of the inability to establish privilege except by an act of
violence, conceptual or otherwise.
[7]
Nevertheless, one might still wonder how this notion of idolatry is possible or
profitable in a postmodern or postsecular, relational worldview in which these
binarisms seem to have deconstructed themselves. Again, to deconstruct is not
to destroy; rather, it is more akin to the recognition of the inability of any
signifier to retain some pure presence in and of itself without reference to an
ongoing process of signification that engenders a differential play (or mutual
relationship to its “other”) in contradistinction to an eradication of its
binary opposite. In other words, placing a binary opposition into question is
not to have answered the question and thereby to have done away with the
opposition in some absolute fashion in favour of one or the other pole (quite
evidently, in a self-referentially problematic manner). It is important to
remind ourselves that philosophers, theologians, philosophical systems,
deconstruction, religion, science and even “proofs” for the existence of God
have had little success (and for some this is a non-issue) in settling the
question of the existence or non-existence of a God and by extension an idol in
any absolutely certain, universally apodictic way—this decision is a
matter of faith (polytheistic, [pan(en)]theistic, atheistic, or agnostic
faith). Regardless of the epistemological or theological actuality of the
matter, the possibility of idolatry
“exists” (at least, I believe the word/concept exists) because its linguistic
signification inhabits a binary relationship with its not-so-absolute other in
and through language; this possibility becomes actualized in the belief systems
and faith orientations of those, tautologically, for whom its does.
[8]
Insofar as this is the case, the initial question still retains significance in
the sense that the god/idol opposition is not just one of many. It appears to
be the binary opposition par excellence given that it has reared its head in many forms; most notably under the guise
of absolute Being, Knowledge, Truth, Reality, The Absolute and other
transcendental signifieds. Granted, at first glance it might appear that in
order for idolatry to be possible or profitable, there must be some
pre-existent Absolute (or, at least, a belief in such) against which something
or someone may be deemed an idol or idolatrous. Indeed, just such a
deconstruction of absolutism and hegemonic privilege has led many of us to a
postsecular existence, seemingly precluding idolatry. However, if one of the
greatest perspectivalists in philosophical history and, arguably, one of the
seminal progenitors of postmodernism could pass his time “sounding out idols”
and could proclaim that “there are more idols than realities in the world,”
then, perhaps this term retains its significance or force of signification in a
different sense or register—an axiological, emotive sense. Rather than a
questionable epistemic determination here, we have an aesthetic valuation that
retains a trace of its former conventional theological usage within its
differentiated aesthetic context.
[9] In
similar fashion, in order for something to be determined “religious,” it
requires some “irreligious” sensibility against which it can identify itself.
Although this differential binary movement may be a necessary linguistic
condition of possibility, the metaphysical privileging
of one pole over the other is not. Rather, this metaphysical predisposition
appears to be a socio-religious desideratum that seeks to retain the purity of
the privileged pole at the expense of its perverse, heretical and/or
blasphemous “other.” In both cases, “god” and “religion,” there are
theological ramifications for one pole slipping over into its “other.” For the
traditionally religious, this semantic “slippage” is “more” than a “mere”
playful eliding of one signified into its other and back again in an endless
differential “game.” What remains at stake in transgressing those constructed
boundaries in a traditional sense depends upon one’s theology (and, perhaps,
sense of compassion). But let us not draw the inference from this that there
is nothing or no-thing at stake for those who are attempting to permeate that
boundary which has always already been permeable. Indeed, these axiological
and aesthetic valuations are “grounded” in an ever turning gyre of binarisms
that pit one privileged pole over the other amounting to floor upon floor of
linguistic-theological constructions whose foundations are “more” than
questionable (e.g., self/other; stability/slippage; more/less; serious/playful;
work/game; etc.). Thus, there “is” something serious/playful at stake, even if
the stakes cannot be staked to the ground, in the to and fro movement between
taking play seriously and playing at being serious for those of us who wish
(i.e., like, enjoy, desire) to put these privileging predilections into
question.
[10] If
god/idol and religion/irreligion are relative to and determined by the context
of the perceiver, then, they are not self-evidently disparate entities or
categories. By virtue of a process of thinking which thinks its negation there
remains a trace of with its negated other without ever having to utter the
other of the negation (e.g., true and false gods; true and false religions),
which shadows this negative formulation in a ghostly fashion (somehow there and
not there). As is the case the “I” or the self, which is always already a
divided self or plural “I,” god and religion are never fully present to
themselves. They, too, are always already divided and serve as the linguistic
site of the possibility of an event of negation.
[11]
Consequently, linguistic slippage, which, it seems, can neither be contained,
circumscribed, nor precluded is “more” than a postmodern buzz word or semantic
word play given that the stakes have been “upped” (in both senses, elevated and
removed from the ground) in terms of its theological ramifications. The idol,
for example, is a “god” that is considered by some to be an image and/or a
false object of worship—a false god. The idol’s participation in
“divinity” allows for the possible substitutability of its opposite pole based
on this shared potentiality in their binary relationship. It is the problematic
epistemic matter of decidability (e.g., god or idol?) without epistemic resolution
that deposits us at the doorstep of an aporia, undecidability, and,
subsequently, the possibility of substitutability.[10] That
is to say, without some apodictic epistemological criterion, the demarcation
between god and idol is penetrated, effaced, and indefinitely permeable such
that a god can be one’s idol and an idol can be one’s god given that the removal of a
theological point of reference destabilizes absolute theological
differentiation. Although conventional thinking is accustomed to speaking of God
over and against idols, religion in contradistinction to myths or cults, the
holy over the profane, and the sacred, literally, “set apart” from the secular,
the supposed purity that is thought to preside within some full notion of
presence is precluded by virtue of the traces of its absent other; each contains
traces of the other in an impure mutual “contamination” that cannot be
extracted to purity. This is somewhat analogous to the differential movement yet symbiotic identification found in the Yin and the Yang.
[12] Once
co-opted and reinscribed in an aesthetic sensibility, however, the demarcation
between god and idol is much less pronounced (and, consequently, provides much
less opportunity for carnage) favouring a fluidity of movement that not only
allows for the differential play at work linguistically but also allows for its
conceptual substitution; a substitution, I might add, that still signifies with
each commonplace utterance of the words “____ is my idol,” which is
conventionally equivalent with “___ is my god.” Notice, the process of
signification is not halted by the easily substitutable terms “idol” and “god.”
This semantic softening of the theological distinction, which would be anathema
to traditional theological sensibilities, is common in contemporary culture.
To the extent that for many God is no longer a being (or the Absolute Being) in
or through which one has/owe’s one’s being, the idol is not its perverse or
blasphemous other. Consequently, god and idol have become twin faces of a coin
of singular value or worth (pace,
Tillich). This theological migration to the axiological is based on an object
of desire and aesthetic valorization (i.e., what one “likes” or “loves”) that
retains traces of its historic-theological differentiation without the dogmatic
privileging of one over the other. This semantic exchange based on aesthetic
economy sets orthodoxy and heresy into an endless play of undecidability and
substitutability.
[13]
Traditionally in the sacred/secular or holy/profane economy there is no space
for religious rumination on the side of the secular. A strict
compartmentalization, a segregation, a desacralization, and, ultimately, a
marginalization occurs in order to keep religion safe from the
counter-contamination or destabilization of boundaries that might occur between
these ostensibly opposite ways of being in the world. However, this stasis,
stabilization or desire for secure boundaries is troubled not only semantically
but also within its own traditional historico-theological categories of
religion. How does the category of the religious trouble itself from within?
It is problematized by virtue of the definitional project and the very
necessity/possibility of this project. In trying to determine what religion “is,”
religion scholars have had to take into account that Western theistic notions
do not apply to other recognized world religions (e.g., Theravada Buddhism and
Confucianism), and, thus, trying to find some essential quality that would make
a phenomenon religious has been viewed by many as a dead end. Although much
work has gone into defining “religion,” not surprisingly, scholarly consensus
has not been reached on a word that owes its categorization in large measure to
scholars in the academy of religion that created it. As J. Z. Smith puts it,
"Religion is solely the creation of the scholar's study. It is created
for the scholar's analytic purposes by his imaginative acts of comparison and
generalization. Religion has no independent existence apart from the
academy[.]"[11] As a result, "it is created by
scholars for their intellectual purposes and therefore is theirs to define . .
. There can be no disciplined study of religion without such a horizon."[12] And according to James Edwards, this means that we are not talking "about religiousness or religion per
se, as if either had an eternal essence
that could be presented once and for all by careful conceptual
articulation."[13] Consequently, the move toward
non-foundational, non-essentialist, functional definitions of religion has
broadened scholars’ approach to religion, which is inclusive not only of
Eastern religions but also other forms of religiosity intuited as such in
secular existence. For example,
Michael Novak describes his view of religion as:
a root intention, an ultimate drive.
Religion is the acting out of a vision of personal identity and human
community. … It is wrong to link religion too closely to notions about God or
gods, or to religious organizations. For such notions and institutions are but
one expression of the basic drive. In my sense of the word, atheists and
“irreligious” persons make choices that are of equally high interest to
religious studies. … It is important, then, not to prejudice religious studies
in favor of the theist, as if only the theist were capable of unity of life,
harmony, reverence, community, commitment, courage unto death.[14]
And, from a deconstructionist perspective, John Caputo
explains:
I
am out to waylay the usual distinction between religious and secular in the
name of what I shall call the “post-secular” or a “religion without religion.”
I include a lot of supposedly secular people in religion … even as I think a
lot of supposedly religious people should look around for another line of work.
A lot of supposedly secular people love something madly, while a lot of
supposedly religious people love nothing more than getting their own way and
bending others to their own will (“in the name of God”). Some people can be
deeply and abidingly “religious” with or without theology, with or without the
religions. Religion may be found with or without religion.[15]
[14] This
ongoing process of rethinking the possible modalities of religion in the
academic study of religion may be read as an attempt to clear a space in
contemporary culture for the religiosity of the “irreligious” or the sacrality
of the “secular.” Considered
within the scope of this postsecular sensibility and the preceding remarks
putting the religious/secular binarism into question, neither the sacred nor
traditional religion can be privileged over secular/profane religiosity or
non-traditional religion. Out of this approach to religion have emerged some
provocative formulations in related academic areas such as media studies,
music, and other (popular) culture studies. For instance, John Lyden argues
regarding film as religion that:
the question involves the
relationship between those cultural phenomena we recognize as “religious” and
other “nonreligious” cultural phenomena. As such, it becomes a form of the
classic “problem” of “religion and culture.” What is taken for granted in these
discussions is that we pretty much know what religion is, and what culture is,
and we can distinguish them without too much difficulty … It is my contention
that there is no absolute distinction between religion and other aspects of
culture, and that we have a tendency to label certain sorts of activities as
“religious” chiefly because they fall into the patterns that we recognize from
religions with which we are familiar. As a result, we have a tendency to limit
what we view as religion to that which is recognized as such by us in our own
culture …
It may be that we experience a similar form of shortsightedness when
we encounter aspects of our own culture that we view as opposed to religious
values or beliefs. We fail to acknowledge the extent to which modern people
base their worldviews and ethics upon sources we do not usually label as
“religious.” Though we may see the powers of the new media, we often fear them
and do not wish to recognize them as sharing in the same functions that
historically have been accorded to religion.[16]
[15] From
this perspective, “sacred” film takes on a new sensibility. The sacred is no
longer limited to a strict process of signification that equates the sacred
with ideas, concepts, themes, etc. (i.e., content) while ignoring the media
production or representation as unimportant, ancillary, tangential or
transparent. It has been extended (the sacred/secular binarism permeated),
allowing the sacred to signify the religious function of the form. While not excluding films dealing with
conventionally religious themes, “sacred” film, guided by a functionalist
sensibility, is broadened to include the religious role of the existentially
communicative form of film that
takes on a religious function. In other words, “what we have always called
‘religion’ is identified by its function in society, and that this function can
be met even by cultural phenomena not normally called ‘religions.’”[17] Thus, another substitution has been enacted or effected in the sense that the sacred may now refer to the content or the form or the content of the form,
if you will.[18] Given this, perhaps,
counterintuitive trajectory, one may look for traces of the gods in idols and
religiosity in “irreligious” places and vice versa. Another such place, I
suggest, is within the religious impulse found in popular music, its
subcultures and the gods/idols, icons, beliefs, values, and communities that
have been created by the “profane” devout. For example, one of the most
conspicuous of these musico-religious movements in the past may be found in the
Grateful Dead phenomenon and the various sects of followers that made up the
Deadheads (e.g., Tourheads, Spinners, Tapers, etc.). What American
Idol may share with other musico-religious
movements is the passion that it inspires in its fans, the desires that it taps
into for idol contenders, and the pilgrimages they are both willing to undergo
in the name of “idolatry”—not unlike the famous Deadheads’ pilgrimages.
[16] The
underlying commonality between traditional and non-traditional religion is the
passion/desire that motivates “idolatry,” which is similar in some ways to
Augustine’s “God-shaped” hole that he sought to fill with his passion/desire
for the Judaeo-Christian God. It is important to note that prior to his
conversion, Augustine needed to decide in the face of epistemological
undecidability to redirect this desire.
Indeed, Augustine’s passions and sexual desires early in life were the basis
for his self-confessed idolatry. The significance of this redirection is the religious
substitution that took place from idol
(i.e., sex) to God (i.e., of Abraham)—a movement that changed its content
but not its form. It might be argued based on this that it is the passion/desire
or the form that fuels the
religious fire and carries the religious impulse rather than the content (i.e.,
beliefs), which is subject to change. The content merely attempts to
differentiate between that which is worthy or privileged and that which is not,
both of which, nevertheless, retain religious sensibilities insofar as they may
be understood as a possible source of desire, value, and attraction, which
influence and shape a meaningful way of being in the world. Thus, American
Idol may provide its own Augustinian
substitutionary move, although, in a way he would find quite fittingly
“idolatrous,” since this contemporary redirection of desire is in the
self-confessed direction of idolatry.
[17] In
response to the many post-Nietzschean “deaths” eulogized by postmodern culture
critics (i.e., the death God, the end of history, the closure of the book, the
death of the author and the subject), it may very well be that new popular
idols have stepped in to fill that hole or void in such a way that “god” or
“the gods” have been resurrected in a miraculous, if “only” hermeneutic,
resurrection of the dead. This resurrection has occurred under the guise of
the transfigured rock star, the superstar, and the (American) idol. As Robin
Sylvan argues in his ethnographic research of popular music subcultures:
[R]eligion
and God are not dead, but very much alive and well and dancing to the beat of
popular music; the religious impulse has simply migrated to another sector of
the culture, a sector in which religious sensibilities have flourished and made
an enormous impact on a large portion of the population. Right under our noses,
a significant religious phenomenon is taking place, one which constitutes an
important development in the Western religious and cultural landscape. Yet,
because conventional wisdom has taught us to regard popular musics as trivial
forms of secular entertainment, these religious dimensions remain hidden from
view, marginalized and misunderstood.[19]
[18] When viewed through Sylvan’s ethno-musicological lens, American
Idol may just be the latest trace of this
form of “entertainment” that taps into a reservoir of unfulfilled religious
longing—whether on the part of the performer/idol or fan(atic)/idolator.
The secular has not chased out the sacred, nor have the gods fled, they have
just undergone a migratory journey—a religious emigration. As Mark
Taylor suggests, “Religious devotion and belief do not simply disappear but
initially are turned inward in a way that renders them as invisible as the
transcendent God who is present as an abiding absence.”[20] Indeed, if, as Sylvan argues, “music functions in the same way as a religion,
and the musical subculture functions in the same way as a religious community,
albeit in an unconscious and postmodern way[,]”[21] then music provides a
crucial locus for the scholarly analysis of a marginalized and, paradoxically, popularized religiosity. It is important to note that this
popularized religiosity is located not only in the truism that much of
contemporary music deals lyrically with religious themes but also in the charismatic, prophetic and communal
functions of the music, the musicians, and their gatherings. Recognizing the
absence of this recognition, Sylvan and Lyden are in accord with their
suggestion that the substitutional dimension of popular cultural productions go
unrecognized due to their association with the trivial, banal other of religion
and all things “serious”—the entertainment industry along with its
“commodified,” “superficial” products.
[19] On this “serious” note, conventional thinking dictates
that one cannot (or should not be able to) buy and sell religion nor can the
superficial (i.e., entertainment) be spiritual (i.e., “deep”). However,
commodification of popular religious productions is no argument against their
religious sensibility or means of religiosity given that all religious
traditions have succumbed to a certain level of commodification. Indeed, this
criticism would render the “Christian bookstore” and its peddling of the
bestselling book of all time an oxymoron (how does one sell God’s word(s)? Who has violated God’s copyright?).
From iconographical representations to televised services to the sale of sacred
texts to Holy Land theme parks, and much more, if commodification is to be
viewed as a contagion invading or the touchstone for determining “authentic”
religiosity, then, all cultural productions popular and traditional have been infected. Furthermore, related
to this common sentiment is the notion that mere superficial entertainment cannot be associated with anything of spiritual significance. Of
course, this is an axiological sentiment that is still based on a binary logic
that privileges depth over the surface and work/worship over entertainment.
From a postmodern perspective all we have are surface layers of reality without
essentialist depth, anyway; thus, this does not appear to be a damaging
criticism. Nevertheless, an historical counter-response may be provided in
that the Olympic games as well as other forms of contemporary “entertainment”
shorn of their religious affiliations had their origins in religious ritual
(and, I might add, retain a religious sensibility with or without the blessing
of the gods).[22] Thus, the distinction between
religion and entertainment is tenuous at best and underlies at worst a residual
puritanical sensibility with respect to the value or non-value of entertainment
in relation to “authentic religiosity” and the “serious” “work” of God or
religion in this world.
[20] The
trace or the inscription of the religious upon the ostensibly “secular” should
come as no surprise to us. We have many examples of commonalities and
religio-linguistic appropriations whether it is in the infamous statement made
by John Lennon regarding the surpassing popularity of the Beatles vis-à-vis
Jesus or the blurring of the religious/secular lines observable in the funeral
service/concert of the iconic James Brown—the “Godfather of Soul.” These
“secular” appropriations of religious themes, terminology, and function are of
a piece with the desire found in aspiring idols and the idolators that tune in
weekly and the power of popular music in supplying a new space for postsecular
religiosity.
[21] This
transformed religious sensibility may function to recast or reframe a
postsecular religious search for spiritual fulfillment in terms of what Charles
Winquist has described as “seeking an experience and a thinking that do not
disappoint us[,]” an experience that resolves itself in a joyful “aesthetic
satisfaction.”[23] This reformulated religio-spiritual
quest has already transgressed the conventional boundaries of religiosity and
spirituality based on the similarity of a religious desideratum albeit with a
different content. In other words, although the gods, idols, icons and beliefs
may have changed, the very existence of gods, idols, icons, and beliefs remain.
This desire is rooted in the quest for (spiritual) identity, transcendence,
community and proximity to (i.e., in the “presence” of) the god/idol,[24] all of which popular music provides.
[22]
Despite the aforementioned formal commonalities, semantic slippage, and
religio-linguistic appropriations, some might still wonder what in God’s name
(note: the subjective appeal to an authoritatively grounding name) has happened to an arguably “Judaeo-Christian”
culture when a “reality” show can become so popular by promoting idolatry in
such a conspicuous fashion in a traditionally idol-aversive and ostensibly
“God-fearing” nation thereby transgressing the primary Judaeo-Christian
commandment? Or, how is it possible for self-confessed religious contestants
to desire and court idolatry and its attendant worship on a scale unimaginable
to the golden calf idolators of old without fear of transgressing their own
faith/God in the process?
[23] In a
certain sense, the United States is a country facing a cultural crisis and the
religious unity framed in the preceding question is illusory. I need not
rehearse the seemingly endless controversies over displaying the ten commandments
in prominent public places, the latest legal debates regarding religious
holiday symbolic displays, questions of same-sex marriage, the pledge of
allegiance, etc. all in relation to the question of whose beliefs should be
privileged at the expense of others’. American culture (as if there were some
singular, essentialist identity that could be so denominated) does not speak
with a unified voice in religious matters and never has. Indeed, it owes its
very existence to a more basic belief in religious freedom and expression.
Thus, the tension is one of yet another binary opposition: namely an absolute religious belief in the capitalized Truth of one’s
respective dogmas in contradistinction to the pluralistic “secular” belief grounded in the construction of a culture
and a diversity that allows for even these absolutistic beliefs. As a result,
cultural tensions and religious displacements appear inevitable.
[24]
These cultural tensions have been described by one conservative talk-show host
as a “culture war”—notwithstanding the problematic self-referential
position of one who believes himself to
have escaped the hermeneutic condition in order to provide a “value-free,”
“factual,” “objective,” “no-spin zone,” which, as far as I can tell, only succeeds in providing yet another
spin of subjectivity regarding the absence thereof. However, at the heart of
the matter is a certain religio-secular phobia leading to tensions engendered by the simultaneous existence of often
mutually exclusive and competing belief/value systems symptomatic of an
increasingly secular worldview and the absence of a grounding Absolute
authority or Truth, of which Nietzsche foretold and whose time is drawing nigh.
As Paul Brockelman argues in his book The Inside Story, “The modern world is haunted by the twin specters
of meaninglessness and fanaticism.”[25] These twin horns of the dilemma mark
an uncomfortable either/or that is not sustaining for many in contemporary
culture (or a call to ideological arms for others). Rather than succumb to one
of these poles, he argues for a middle way that is rooted in a meaningful
narratological approach to religiosity. What American Idol and popular music subcultures may provide is, in
this sense, a postmodern narrative of meaning or a spiritual way of being for
those that have experienced a loss of a religious sense of self in the wake of the death (or at least
a questioning) of the Absolute. Caputo has captured this sensibility in his
articulation of a project that seeks to trouble the distinction between
religious and secular in the name of the Derridean notion of “religion without
religion.”[26] Again, as Caputo has argued, “some people can be
deeply and abidingly ‘religious’ with or without theology, with or without the
religions. Religion may be found with or without religion.”[27]
[25] This
intercultural tension is in a parallel trajectory with intrapersonal tensions
as well, which has begun to move from modern unified self theories of psychology to postmodern fragmented or pluralistic
self theories. By way of example, one American
Idol contestant with apparently evangelical
affiliation performed a Gospel song, perhaps, as her way of disassociating
herself from the idolatry in which she was nevertheless engaged. The
juxtaposition of a song proclaiming the salvific nature and love of the one
True God in the midst of this mass idolatry was criticized and dismissed by one
judge as self-indulgent and inappropriate. It would seem that American
Idol also has idolatry issues and its own
first commandment that, paradoxically, will not tolerate theistic confessions.
[26]
American “idolatry” or “idolization” is not a new phenomenon but, rather, a
sort of return of the repressed, an ancient/perennial predisposition ultimately
concerned with the creation of focusing objects of worship (i.e., an idol/god)
delivered through the latest technologies in order to satisfy the spiritual
desires of those that are no longer sustained by the ancient gods or religions.
The form of religiosity remains similar while the content of the form changes
to fit the needs of the respective cultures; not unlike the mechanism at work
in the original cultural production of the gospels and epistles, for example,
that reflected the diverse needs of the original communities to whom they were
written, or the ongoing interpretations and demythologizations encountered
throughout Christian history to meet the needs of their historically respective
audiences.
[27]
Another telling religio-spiritual characteristic of American Idol is its fascination with the mysterious allure of the
superstar idol (cf. Rudolf Otto). In the seventies, the slippery substitution
between the rock star and the prophet became the basis for the Broadway hit
musical Jesus Christ Superstar.
The religio-musical parallel was evident and ready for popular consumption.
What we are experiencing now is a theological reversal with the baptizing, so
to speak, of the iconic superstar/idol as musico-religious prophet. It is
important to keep in mind that religious symbols are non-religious or mundane
artifacts/events that have been theologized into spiritual service (e.g., the
cross); consequently, these symbols may be de-theologized or “secularized” back
into popular mundane culture (e.g., the cross as fashion). When viewed through
this religious lens, musical idols perform a spiritual function as the
charismatic leader through the powerful medium of amplified music. As a
result, just as the death of God did not kill the desire for gods and prophets,
neither does the end of religion or a “religion without religion” kill the
prophetic desire or the religiosity of the “irreligious.” Indeed, if we
understand the prophet in the Hebraic sense as one who calls the people to live
in accordance with a “divinely revealed” message, then, one obvious candidate
for this musico-religious vocation may be found in arguably the most
internationally adored and revered, if not canonized, musicians, Bob Marley.
Marley was evangelical in his fervor to promote Rastafarianism from stages
around the world and his global popularity was solidified when his song “One
Love” was named song of the millennium by the BBC. Thus, when desire for a
god/idol is coupled with a prophetic message and solidified by a community of
like-minded adherents to a way of being in the world, then, we encounter traces
of a religious sensibility regardless of the content. When this occurs within
a musical context with its undeniably historical and cross-cultural function in
world religions (note: dubbed “sacred” when used in this context), we have
sufficient reason to inquire whether or not there may be something other than
“mere” entertainment occurring for some without thereby precluding its
entertainment value for others.
[28]
Furthermore, if a primary religious purpose of music is to provide a vehicle
for spiritual transcendence (or, perhaps, aesthetic/emotive experience or
release), then this transcendent function, which does not require religious
dogma but, rather, empowers it, is not thereby eliminated when separated from a
traditionally religious context and relocated in the realm of the profane.
What we discover is the possibility of a profane transcendence that is no less
religious or spiritual for its profanation than its counterpart. One might
even suggest that if religion requires music as a tool to place adherents in a
worshipful, ecstatic or contemplative state, then, music and not religious
content may prove to be performing the “religious” function with the musical
form providing the “spiritual” (i.e., aesthetic-emotive) content. This said, I
am not suggesting that music is to be privileged over religion but, rather,
that we take seriously the spiritual function of music within traditional
religion in order to think its religious function outside the bounds of traditional
religion.
[29]
(In)conclusion: Given the above reflections, a tentative response to the
following may begin: Is American Idol, and, by extension, the idols of popular music idolatrous? I believe so, in a
couple of senses at least: First, it is idolatrous in the traditional sense of
the term in that all human beliefs that are forgetful of their binary opposite—absolute knowledge—and
attempt to leap across this epistemic abyss in such a way that their subjective
beliefs are worshipped, adored and
reverenced as absolute Truth become idolatrous in the more traditional sense.
All of our beliefs, including this one, construed in such a way from a sub
specie aeternitatis perspective may thereby
qualify as idolatrous (i.e., worshipping or reverencing something other than
the Absolute Truth as Absolute), since it is always already by definition
infected by human hermeneutic subjectivity. In other words, we worship not
God, but our notions or our traditions’ dogmas of God and not God in some
non-hermeneutic existence; Second, and what this paper has attempted to
address, its idolatry is a transvalued “idolatry.” This newly valorized idolatry displays an aesthetic passion
and a religious profanation that has secured a religious redirection or
substitution for those so inclined. Moreover, it is an idolatry that has
destabilized the strict separation between idol and god, bridging this
theological chasm where one is indiscernible from the other. In this sense, American
Idol is one among many cultural phenomena
that reveal[s] an attraction to the idolatrous in the absence of its other,
thereby providing us with the opportunity to rethink idolatry as a reflection
of contemporary religio-cultural desires. If one person’s orthodox worship is
another’s idolatry, it may be argued that popular music and American
Idol as a small subset have cleared a
secularized sacred space in which various religio-spiritual philosophies are
able to weave themselves into the popular consciousness in a reformulated
“orthodox” idolatry (so orthodox that in practice these distinctions no longer
function to contain anything other than a signifier for a religio-aesthetic
desire). Moreover, due to the widespread appeal and influence music exerts on
contemporary culture, some musicians may be understood as filling a role that
in earlier times fell to the prophets and sages but in a postmodern or
postsecular context in such a way that they powerfully fuse musical and visual
aesthetics with a religious sensibility in such a way that worldviews, beliefs,
values, and, thus, ways of life are disseminated on a global scale to widely
accessible and receptive audiences.
[30]
Finally, since one of the central issues at stake in rethinking the function of
music in (popular) culture is the light it may shed on the concept and study of
religion, I think it is appropriate to close with a reiteration of the
importance of ongoing thinking about religion in unconventional,
counterintuitive places. Taylor points us in this direction when in his
typical eloquence he writes:
Religion
is about a certain about. What religion is about, however, remains obscure for
it is never quite there—nor is it exactly not there. Religion is about what is always
slipping away. It is, therefore, impossible to grasp what religion is about—unless, perhaps,
what we grasp is the impossibility of grasping. Even when we think we have it
surrounded, religion eludes us. This strange slipping away is no mere
disappearance but a withdrawal that allows appearances to appear . . . Since
what religion is about is so slippery, we can never be sure where to look for
it. Always a matter of surprise, religion is, I believe, most interesting
where it is least obvious. Thus, I
deliberately avoid the space of church, synagogue, and mosque in order to have
time for art, literature, economics, science, and technology. Though these
disciplines seem to share little, each, in a different way, raises new
questions about religion. The relation between religion and culture is
inevitably a two-way street. Not only do modern and contemporary art,
literature, economics, science, and technology pose questions about religion,
but the study of religion exposes religious dimensions of
ostensibly “secular” culture, which usually remain undetected. [28] [italics added]
Notes
[1] Caputo uses this term in order to
signal a movement beyond the strict religious/secular opposition and as a
substitute for the overused and somewhat abused term “postmodern.” John D.
Caputo, On Religion, (London: Routledge,
2001), 37.
[2] I refer here to the group that met in
a panel discussion regarding Theology, Religion and Popular Culture at the
annual meeting of the American Academy of Religion in November of 2005. In
that meeting and the summary paper that followed, they enumerated and explored
a number of key issues facing the growing field of popular culture studies
through the lenses of religion and theology. In the process, they developed a
number of critical, useful suggestions, methodological and otherwise, in terms
of general scholarly perceptions and future approaches to the discipline.
[3] “Exploring the Research Agenda for
Theology, Religion and Popular Culture: Report of a Panel Discussion at the
American Academy of Religion, November 2005,” Journal of Religion and
Popular Culture 12 (Spring 2006).
[4] Ibid.
[5] Ibid.
[6] Jeffrey Mahan quoted in “Exploring the Research Agenda for Theology, Religion and Popular Culture,” 2.
[7] Mark C. Taylor, Erring: A
Postmodern A/theology (Chicago: The
University of Chicago Press, 1984).
[8] Paul Tillich, The Dynamics of Faith (New York: Harper Torchbooks, 1957), 12.
[9] Jonathan Z. Smith, “Religion, Religions, Religious” in Critical Terms for Religious Studies, edited by Mark C. Taylor (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1998), 281
[10] This notion of substitutability may
be thought along the lines of the Derridean logic of the supplement.
[11] Jonathan Z. Smith, Imagining Religion: From Babylon to Jonestown (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1982), xi.
[12] Smith, “Religion, Religions, Religious,” 281-282.
[13] James C. Edwards, The Plain Sense of Things: The Fate of Religion in an Age of Normal Nihilism (University Park, Pennsylvania: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 1997), 3.
[14] Michael Novak, Ascent of the
Mountain, Flight of the Dove: An Invitation to Religious Studies (New
York: Harper & Row, 1971), 2-4.
[15] Caputo, On Religion, 2-3.
[16] John C. Lyden, Film as Religion:
Myths, Morals, and Rituals (New York: New
York University Press, 2003), 2.
[17] Ibid, 3.
[18] See Hayden White, The Content of
the Form: Narrative Discourse and Historical Representation (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1987).
[19] Robin Sylvan, Traces of the Spirit: The Religious Dimensions of Popular
Music (New York: New York University
Press, 2002), 3.
[20] Mark C. Taylor, Critical Terms for Religious Studies (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1998), 2.
[21] Sylvan, Traces of the Spirit, 4.
[22] See Carolyn Thompsons “Sports” in Spirituality
and the Secular Quest, edited by Peter Van
Ness (New York: Crossroad, 1996).
[23] Charles Winquist, “Deconstructionist
Aestheticism,” in Spirituality and the Secular Quest, 200.
[24] The phenomenon of the religious relic
is found in the contemporary analogue of the fan’s desire to have some thing or
some part of the musical idol (e.g., clothing, hair, or anything else, for that
matter, that was in the possession of or possessed by the idol). The desire
to be close to the prophet or god (e.g., those who merely wanted to touch the
garment of the Christ) appears self-evident in contemporary popular music
culture.
[25] Paul Brockelman, The Inside Story:
A Narrative Approach to Religious Understanding and Truth (New York: State University of New York Press,
1992), 3.
[26] Caputo, On Religion, 2.
[27] Ibid., 3.
[28] Mark C. Taylor, About Religion:
Economies of Faith in Virtual Culture (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1999), 1.
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