Individuals, Not Groups

Last week, I shared this article on my Facebook page. I highly encourage you to read it, but in brief, it’s a powerful commentary by Army Major Danny Sjursen decrying the tendency to invoke the sacrifices made by U.S. service members either to support or condemn NFL players kneeling during the national anthem. He argues persuasively that displays of patriotism before sporting events are out of place, and that using his or anyone else’s military service as a rhetorical sledgehammer is “distasteful,” and, worse, “eradicates nuance.”

I was thinking of Maj. Sjursen’s piece as I read about Michelle Obama’s recent remarks in Boston, as well as the backlash they garnered. As you might recall, Ms. Obama commented that women who didn’t vote for Hillary Clinton in the last election “voted against their own voice,” and implied that those women who voted for Donald Trump only did so because someone (presumably a man) told them to do so. (You can read the full quote in this Washington Post article.) While there are a number of good reasons for women not to support Mr. Trump, Ms. Obama went several steps further by suggesting that women owed Ms. Clinton their votes, and that they only way they could have voted for anyone else (there were, after all, more than two candidates in the race) would be if they were too stupid to see what was good for them. Whether it was out of support for Mr. Trump’s policy proposals or distaste for Ms. Clinton, the fact that some women chose freely to support someone besides her preferred candidate is anathema to Ms. Obama.

These two cases I’ve cited are really two sides of the same coin, in that they both assume that every member of a certain group must necessarily think or act a certain way. Granted, there are some instances in which that would be the case – for example, the idea of a self-proclaimed vegetarian who eats chicken or a professed Christian who denies that Christ rose from the dead is absurd. Most situations, however, don’t involve such self-contradictions, and a mature viewpoint would allow room for nuance in thoughts and actions. Groups, after all, are made up of individuals, each with their own values and experiences that shape the way they look at things.

So rather than assume that all members of a certain group feel a certain way on an issue (as the people Maj. Sjursen is criticizing do) or get upset when they don’t (as Ms. Obama did), why not be thankful that each and every one of us has the gift of independent thought and reasoning, and that we live in a society that allows us to use those gifts? Accept that they might respond to something in a way other than the one you think is right, and be gentle in trying to get them to see things from your point of view. To be fair, that’s probably wishful thinking, but it certainly would go a long way toward healing even the worst of our divisions.

Twenty Years On: An Appreciation of Rich Mullins

I’ve had something of a love-hate relationship with contemporary Christian music over the last decade or so. Done well, it inspires the listener to draw closer to God and to be an example of Christ-like behavior to the rest of the world. Done poorly, it gives the listener a warm, fuzzy feeling but inspires no real change. While I’ve largely stopped following Christian music because of what I see as an overabundance of that second type of music, there are a number of artists who exemplify the first type, and I continue to hold them in high regard. The foremost of these is Rich Mullins, and today, on the twentieth anniversary of his untimely death, I wanted to take some time to reflect on his life, his legacy, and, of course, his music.

While largely unknown outside Christian circles, Rich Mullins is known to millions of believers as the writer and singer of such praise and worship standards as “Awesome God,” “Step By Step,” and “I See You.” Yet that brief summary doesn’t even begin to describe the man behind those classic songs. He was an accomplished multi-instrumentalist – a talented acoustic guitarist, an excellent pianist, and a superb hammered dulcimer player. His music was eclectic, fusing Appalachian and Celtic influences with lush orchestral strings and (then-contemporary) late 80s and early 90s keyboards and guitars. Most importantly, his lyrics were - and still are - head and shoulders above everyone else’s. The narrator of a Rich Mullins song might be childlike and whimsical (“Boy Like Me/Man Like You”), folksy and humorous (“Screen Door”), heartbreakingly lonely (“We Are Not As Strong As We Think We Are,” “Hard To Get”), pensive and enigmatic (“Jacob and 2 Women”), or completely awestruck at the beauty of creation (“Calling Out Your Name”). The common threads running through all of his songs are a deep understanding of theology and the Bible, a poet's way with words, and, above all else, a complete and unconditional love for God.

Rich was a fascinating figure outside his music, as well. In contrast to many of his well-dressed, well-groomed contemporaries, he was famous for wearing a white V-neck T-shirt, ripped jeans, and no shoes to his concerts. Those closest to him have acknowledged that he had his faults – he smoked and drank, was prone to borrowing things and not returning them, and could get downright nasty when confronted with something that offended his sense of morality. Yet he was also generous and caring to an almost radical degree – he was a vocal champion of Compassion International, donated nearly all of his considerable income to various churches and charities, and spent the last few years of his life in obscurity, teaching music to children on a Navajo reservation. Rich was a known admirer of St. Francis of Assisi (even going so far as to write a musical about him and to found a semi-monastic community called the Kid Brothers of St. Frank), and that great saint’s spirit of voluntary poverty and concern for the downtrodden was a driving force in his life.

I encourage everyone reading this to block out an hour and listen to Rich’s 1993 masterpiece, A Liturgy, A Legacy, and a Ragamuffin Band. I’ve listened to it so many times I’ve lost count, and it still never fails to inspire me. I’ve marveled at the vivid, beautiful imagery of “Here in America” and “The Color Green.” I’ve acknowledged my own faults and thrown myself on the mercy of God while “Hold Me Jesus” ran through my head. I’ve heard the old, familiar words of the Apostles’ Creed take on new life in “Creed.” I’ve smiled at the wry humor and sublime insights of “Hard” and “You Gotta Get Up (Christmas Morning),” and nodded at the social commentary of his cover of Mark Heard’s “How to Grow Up Big and Strong.” And I’ve recognized in an instant the America Rich describes in “Land of My Sojourn” – how much I’ve come to love it, and how I’ll never belong there. It’s a near-perfect album, and a perfect encapsulation of Rich Mullins’ music and faith. 

Unlike many people who have written about Rich, I never got to meet him or experience him personally. I was only six years old when he died, and I only seriously started listening to him about a year ago. All I can say is that his example inspires me, and that I truly am a better person for having heard his story and his songs.

Further reading:

Kid Brothers of St. Frank official website:

http://kidbrothers.org

 “I Miss Rich Mullins,” by Mark A. Hollingsworth

http://markahollingsworth.blogspot.com/2013/03/i-miss-rich-mullins.html

“Beaten Up and Carried Home: Remembering Rich Mullins,” by Andrew Peterson

http://rabbitroom.com/2011/09/beaten-up-and-carried-home-remembering-rich-mullins/

I Started A Blog

So why am I starting a blog now? I could say that it's because I like to be fashionably late, but truth be told, that's never been the case. The real reason is that so often, I've found myself writing really long, thoughtful Facebook posts or trying to cram big ideas into tweets, even though neither of those social media platforms is particularly well-suited for that. So, I thought I'd start fresh on a new platform designed for that sort of thing.

This is a highly personal blog, and I mean that in a couple of different ways. In one sense, it's because I'm not blogging to make money or to sell stuff, so I'm just going to write about whatever interests me - music, movies, religion, politics, you name it. In another sense, it's because I don't want to shy away from writing about my personal life if the situation calls for it. I'd like to be more comfortable talking about my Catholicism, my Asperger's, my politics, or my chronic singleness, and this seems as good a place as any in which to do it. I highly doubt everyone's going to like every post, but I do hope there's something for just about anyone who happens to stop by (racists, anti-Semites, violent political radicals, and people who prefer Sammy Hagar to David Lee Roth in Van Halen should probably look elsewhere).

I decided to call this blog "Deep(ish) Thoughts" because while I do think I'm capable of deep thoughts (why else would I be writing a blog?), I'll be the first to admit that not everything I come up with is all that profound. I can be as immature as the next guy, and I don't want to be overly pretentious if I happen to be writing about something like fart jokes in kids' movies or which Stan Lee cameo is the best.

In summary - welcome to my blog. I hope you like it.