I hate to beat an old comedy trope to death, but in this case, I couldn’t muster any other appropriate response. I recently saw the story by Robert Patrick of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch that Flame, Lecrae and Da TRUTH have filed suit against Katy Perry and Capitol Records for copyright infringement. In a stunning reversal of musical tradition, these Christian emcees are claiming that someone else took their style — specifically alleging that Perry’s 2013 single “Dark Horse” bears a more-than-coincidental resemblance to their 2008 hit “Joyful Noise.”
REALLY?!?
This lawsuit is a ridiculous embarrassment, not only for these emcees specifically, but for all of Christian hip-hop.
See, even though CHH has been around for a long time (at least three decades), its popularity as a genre subculture is still dwarfed by the global footprint that hip-hop has left in the general market. Thus, when news about any Christian hip-hop artist makes the rounds in the blogosphere, it impacts the public’s perception of Christian hip-hop music overall.
Now, let me be clear — I’m not saying this lawsuit is entirely without merit. On the contrary, fans of Flame and Lecrae had been making the comparison for months before this suit, which is how the Katy Perry single was brought to the artists’ attention in the first place. So obviously, there is some sort of similarity. Judge for yourself by listening to a Soundcloud mix of both songs for comparison purposes, compiled by Flame’s DJ, Cho’zyn Boy.
Go listen and come back. (I’ll wait.)
After you listen, it’s clear that an argument can be made, from a purely intellectual property standpoint, that the suit has merit. There is definitely a resemblance between the two songs.
But to me, that’s all it is — a resemblance. In the same way that the overall concepts and storylines of the Ubisoft video game WATCH_DOGS and the CBS procedural Person of Interest resemble each other, because they both deal extensively with electronic surveillance and vigilante justice. Both “Joyful Noise” and “Dark Horse,” at least in their beginning sections, have a similar basic drum pattern and a similar synth lead line. But the latter never sampled the former. And in neither case is that beginning section the entire basis, creatively or aurally, of the overall song recording. The songs have different layers of instrumentation with different chord structures, different melodies, at different tempos, and in different keys. If I were the judge, I’d throw it out.
But for a moment, let’s just set that aside. Let’s assume that from a legal, intellectual property perspective, this lawsuit is airtight, and no judge would ever dare rule in favor of the defendants. There are still four huge reasons why this lawsuit was a bad idea.
“Wait, who’s Katy Perry again?”
“Wait, who’s Katy Perry again?”
1. It’s embarrassing because it doesn’t make sense.
According to the Post-Dispatch article, the suit includes the following complaint: “Joyful Noise” has been “irreparably tarnished by its association with the witchcraft, paganism, black magic, and Illuminati imagery evoked by the same music in ‘Dark Horse.’”
Seriously? That’s laughable.
First of all, many of Flame and Lecrae’s fans are children in conservative Christian households who aren’t allowed to listen to secular radio or watch MTV, VH1, or even YouTube without adult supervision. They probably have no idea that Katy Perry song exists. And secondly, if they do manage to hear it in their friend’s mom’s minivan or at the mall or whatever, they’ll probably think that Katy Perry’s song sounds like Flame, not vice versa. It’s just human nature… people always compare later music to whatever they heard earlier. So if anything, it’s Katy Perry’s rep that would be tarnished, although even that is a stretch.
2. It’s embarrassing because it makes the plaintiffs look naive at best and hypocritical at worst.
Hip-hop blogger Sketch the Journalist, in a brief reflection piece at The Houston Chronicle’s “Jesus Musik” blog, said that Flame himself released a single that bore an uncanny resemblance to another collaboration between Bruno Mars and Eminem. The implication is, y’know, glass houses and all that. (Here’s a link if you don’t know the cliché.)
Frankly, even if you don’t think it’s hypocritical to accuse someone else of doing something that you appear to have done, it’s still a naive way to examine the realities of music production in general, especially in hip-hop. We’re not talking about some ornate, neo-baroque melody here. We’re talking about a simple beat with an 808-style clap on beat three, with a synth line that travels across monotonous 8th notes, that gradually shift pitch down.
There are similar attributes in literally thousands of different rap songs created in the last half-decade, enough to make plausible the idea that sometimes producers can come up with similar ideas at the same time. This happens all the time in comedy — think of all the Mens Wearhouse jokes after George Zimmer was fired — so it’s plenty likely to happen in music, too. So to claim otherwise makes several veteran hip-hop artists seem like they have no idea how the sausage is made.
3. It’s embarrassing because it looks unbiblical.
Consider the fake words of Not Jesus (or if you prefer your fake quotes with real authentic butter taste, I Can’t Believe It’s Not Jesus):
“You’ve heard it said ‘love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say, FILE SUIT against those who persecute you. Sue, and then after the inevitable news cycle churn, settle for a decent amount. But make sure those files stay sealed, or you’re gonna have a messy P.R. situation on your hands, so it’s best to just avoid the press for awhile. Stay in the dark, that’s what I always say.”
Wait, Jesus never said that? Well, what did he say instead?
According to theology professor Jay Phelan of North Park Theological Seminary in Chicago, Jesus said something that Christians have been trying to explain away for centuries — that we’re supposed to bless our enemies. Even assuming that Katy Perry, once a celebrated Christian who has since publicly renounced her faith, should be classified as an enemy combatant to militant emcees like Flame and Da T.R.U.T.H., they still missed a golden opportunity to do something to bless her.
I mean honestly… what’s going to capture someone’s attention more, a lawsuit because you violated their “Christian” intellectual property (I included scare quotes around “Christian” in reference to what I call The Sentient Song Fallacy) or a humblebrag tweet shouting out to Perry and a link that highlights the similarity? The latter has a chance to build a relational bridge, which, hey you never know, with God all things are possible … could result in Perry, like the prodigal, coming back to the faith. But the former is pretty much a legal transaction and little else.
and finally…
4. It’s embarrassing because it looks like like a naked money grab.
In case you think I’m being a little too pollyannaabout all this, I’m a musician too. I understand the need to protect one’s intellectual property. And I certainly have no sympathy for the defendants, all of whom are, I’m sure, quite wealthy.
But this isn’t Metallica lashing out against Napster, or Prince refusing to be on Spotify. The existence of Katy Perry’s “Dark Horse” in no way inhibits or prevents Flame, Lecrae or Da TRUTH from making money selling “Joyful Noise.” If anything, it might even cause more sales, as fans flood message boards accusing Perry of copying the original beat. So this isn’t just a matter of independent musicians protecting their livelihood.
There was a time, not long ago, when even the idea of making a decent living as a hip-hop musician doing primarily faith-based music, was so far-fetched, it was borderline delusional. But guys like Lecrae, Andy Mineo, Trip Lee, Flame and Da T.R.U.T.H. — all current or former members of the Reach Records crew — have changed that perception. I don’t know any of them personally and have no access to their financial records, but from the outside it’s obvious that they’re all enjoying a level of exposure and sales that were virtually impossible for similarly skilled and anointed emcees to achieve in decades past.
But along with that success come the trappings of wealth. Like the parable of the rich fool, there’s always a temptation to rely on material wealth instead of God’s provision. And I’m not sure if that’s what motivated this lawsuit, but it sure doesn’t look like they’re motivated by God’s glory or what would be the most effective public witness. I’ve defended Lecrae in the past for collaborating with secular artists, but this seems pretty indefensible.
Lawsuits like this are an unfortunate reality in the music business. If anything, I’d bet this was just a case of an overzealous attorney who gave bad advice to three of his clients, all of whom happen to be Christian hip-hop artists. I’d like to think that this lawsuit is not a true indicator of their heart motivation for doing music, and that three careers that span over a decade of making authentic, Christ-focused hip-hop won’t be derailed over this. If it can happen with Kirk Franklin, it can happen here, too.
But I hope this can be settled quickly and quietly.
So get it done, fellas! And don’t make me upgrade my “Really?!?” to a “SERIOUSLY, ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!”
“Then Jesus said to his disciples, ‘If any of you wants to be my follower, you must turn from your selfish ways, take up your cross, and follow me. If you try to hang on to your life, you will lose it. But if you give up your life for my sake, you will save it.'”
— Matthew 16:24-25, New International Version
“And why should we ourselves risk our lives hour by hour? For I swear, dear brothers and sisters, that I face death daily. This is as certain as my pride in what Christ Jesus our Lord has done in you. And what value was there in fighting wild beasts—those people of Ephesus—if there will be no resurrection from the dead? And if there is no resurrection, ‘Let’s feast and drink, for tomorrow we die!'”
— 1 Corinthians 15:30-32, New Living Translation
“I hope tomorrow will bring / a better you, a better me”
Thanks to the good people at Klout, I attended an advance screening of the Tom Cruise / Emily Blunt sci-fi action film “Edge of Tomorrow,” and what I found surprised me.
First, it was good. Like, really good. Plenty of good old-fashioned action, but smartly paced and edited, moderated by a delicious time-travel premise, and magnified by two AAA-grade performances by Blunt and Cruise. If “Groundhog Day” and “District 9″* ever hooked up, had a child, and then hired F. Gary Gray’s “Italian Job” remake to babysit on the weekends, that film would grow up to be “Edge of Tomorrow.”
So yes, I was surprised by how good it was. Mostly because prior to this film I had no experience watching Emily Blunt, and I haven’t been interested in Tom Cruise as an action hero since 2006’s “Mission Impossible III.”
What really surprised me, though, were the numerous spiritual parallels I picked up on as I watched the film. Not since “The Matrix” during my college years have I been so pleasantly surprised about the ways in which a film like this could underscore spiritual principles that are central to the Christian faith.
Now I recognize that there’s some confirmation bias here, that because being a Christian is such a pivotal part of my identity and it underscores everything that I do, that it’s not hard for me to find examples of belief in pieces of art or film-making where no such belief is intended, especially since some of these themes are not particularly exclusive to Christianity. Given that the film was adapted from the Japanese novel All You Need Is Kill, the more cynical among us might filter my interpretation through the popular axiom, “when all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail.”
So really, I get it. This is not a Christian film.
But man oh man, if the Apostle Paul was reviewing this film for Variety, his Rotten Tomatoes pull-quote would probably be something like, “I couldn’t have written it any better myself.”
More than any film I’ve seen in years, this action flick illustrates the difficult Christian principle of dying to self — first articulated by Jesus himself at the end of Matthew 16, then expounded upon by Paul in 1 Corinthians 15.
See, when we first meet the film’s protagonist, he’s in — forgive the pun — cruise control. Major Bill Cage is an officer in the United Defense Force, but he’s mostly just a glorified PR rep, doing interviews on major news stations describing the bravery and heroism of the soldiers battling against a fierce, alien menace. This persona is vintage Tom Cruise, cocky and charming, and he’s happy to serve as the mouthpiece of the battle — that is, until he’s asked to actually serve in the battle.
“On your feet, maggot.”
As a punishment for insubordination, Cage is sent into the front lines to fight, armed with a giant, bulky mechanical suit that he knows nothing about operating. And so, quite naturally, he dies.
Again, and again, and again.
See, upon dying on the battlefield, Cage wakes up again at the start of his day, and has to endure his unceremonious recruitment into the ragtag J squad all over again. Over and over, he keeps reliving the same day. Eventually he encounters Emily Blunt’s mysterious warrior character, who ends up explaining his predicament and guiding him through his quixotic journey. Eventually she trains him to kick enough ass for them to team up and save the world. (I’d say more, but y’know… spoilers.)
Now, the “save the world” part is the part we know and love in these kinds of action movies, but the soul of this film is in the training, in the living and dying and repeating, as the film’s tagline says. As a regular viewer of normal popcorn action fare, I found it delightful to see Tom Cruise eschew his normal unflinching action hero persona to play a guy who freaks the hell out at the sight of actual combat. Part of the pleasure that unfolds is seeing his gradual progression from frightened neophyte to hardened badass, one grisly demise at a time.
And yet, as I watched, I couldn’t help but feel a few dreaded pangs of conviction.
One of the things this film illustrates is that for some, there is a wide gulf of reality between simply talking about something and actually doing it. Cage was an expert at spouting cliches about heroism and bravery, but when it came time to actually strapping in and being brave, he was a grade-A noob.
As for me, I’m a worship leader by trade. It’s my job to stand onstage and lead, with words spoken, sung and accompanied by music, into the throne room of worship. It’s my job to know what to say, what to sing, and how to sing it or say it.
But how much am I living this thing out? How often am I singing worship songs outside of worship planning? How often do my heart and my actions lag behind my words and intentions?
I also write for a living. But how often do I read the Scripture aside from the next blog post or magazine article? How often do I feed myself from God’s living Word just because I need it, not because I need to show it to someone else?
These are the questions I would rather ignore, but unfortunately — and also, fortunately — they can’t be drowned out by THX sound design and the sound of crunching popcorn.
The central point of clarity for me came around the beginning of the second act, after Cage meets Emily Blunt’s super soldier Rita Vrataski. Cage, Vrataski and molecular biophysicist Dr. Carter (Noah Taylor) are holed in a room. Rita and Dr. Carter have just explained the situation to Cage, and, in an attempt to infuse a modicum of hope, tell him that he has the opportunity to change his situation and rid humanity of the alien infestation once and for all. All smiles, Cage says something along the lines of, “so how does this work?”
“You have to die,” she says, with neither compassion nor pity. (After all, she is Emily Blunt.)
Cage blanches immediately. Even before he recites his next line, you can see it all over his face. This is not what I signed up for. Waitaminute, I didn’t even sign up! I was unfairly railroaded into this! Why should I have to die so that others can live?
This is the crux of my predicament, day in and day out. And I know I’m not alone here.
As a Christian, dying to self is not simply a handy metaphor that references Christ’s death and resurrection. It is a daily call to yield our very lives in service to the One who gave up His on our behalf. It’s a challenge to walk, sometimes with blind, stumbling gait, into situations that often make us feel like we’re horribly mismatched, outgunned, and overwhelmed. It’s a willingness to fail repeatedly, sometimes even spectacularly, out of a sense of trust in a divine redeemer and friend whose love overcomes our desire for self-preservation.
It’s in realizing, like Paul Schneider in Lars and the Real Girl did, that taking his brother’s condition seriously and walking with him means that “people are going to make fun of him.”
“And you,” the therapist adds.
“Wait, what?”
This is what it means to die to yourself. So when you say yes to Jesus, this is what you’re saying yes to. This sounds like bad news, but in reality, it’s the best news ever.
It means that we don’t have to keep up with the rat race of success, we don’t have to strive 24/7 to be harder, better, faster, stronger — our success can instead be redefined into simply doing our best to follow Jesus wherever he leads. And it’s not that our dreams and goals are meaningless, but rather, precisely because they are so meaningful, we get to trust in the providence of the one who planted them in the first place.
So take heart and be of good cheer. And if you’re ready for a good time at the movies, go check out “Edge of Tomorrow,” which opens June 6th in theaters nationwide. Because its lesson is one we should all take to heart:
When it comes to the Christian life, dying is the only way to really live.
*I’ve found that most reviewers, when describing the mashup of style and tone go with “Starship Troopers” but that film had like zero gravitas, and it spent way too much time fetishizing the aliens.
I don’t work in the NBA. I have no connections to anyone in the Golden State Warriors, True Love Worship Center International, or any of Mark Jackson’s previous employers. But I do know office politics when I see them. And I know pastors. And I love to follow the postmodern soap opera of NBA coaching. And I’m confident saying that in the final year of his contract, Mark Jackson made a living dancing along the combustible intersection of all three cultural fault lines – and it eventually blew up in his face.
Apr 29, 2014; Los Angeles, CA, USA; Golden State Warriors head coach Mark Jackson during a press conference prior to the game between the Golden State Warriors and Los Angeles Clippers in game five of the first round of the 2014 NBA Playoffs at Staples Center. (Photo Credit: Kelvin Kuo-USA TODAY Sports)
For anyone who’d been following the saga of Jackson and the Golden State Warriors, the firing did not come as a shock. It barely even qualified as news. People saw this coming for months, perhaps even the entire season. On the surface, there are plenty of reasons why his stint as coach didn’t last longer than the three seasons in his contract, and when the news broke, capable analysts like CSN Bay Area’s Monte Poole did a great job of breaking down the sports-related reasons. And TrueHoop’s Ethan Sherwood Strauss provided a great overview of the duality of Jackson’s tenure, highlighting his strengths and weaknesses.
But I think if you look past the obvious stuff, there are some hidden lessons here. My sense, armchair quarterbacking though it may be, is that Mark Jackson is an excellent motivator, but his tenure was shipwrecked in three areas, and anyone who wants to be successful should heed them. These lessons are important for anyone who wants to be an effective basketball coach.
But for pastors, these lessons are absolutely critical.
First up…
Lesson #1: You can’t ignore the business side of things.
When I was considering launching a business-related venture with a friend of mine who owns his own business, one of the first things that he said to me was that if I was going to be successful, I would have two separate learning curves – learning to do the thing I wanted to be the best at, and also learning how to do it as a business. No matter what the business is, there are a whole set of skills related to how to bring it to market, find and retain customers, execute deliverables, and build a client or customer base, that are separate from the skills of being a good baker, attorney, musician, architect, or whatever.
From what I can see, Mark Jackson viewed his role as a basketball coach as completely separate and irrelevant from the business side of the Warriors organization. And while I think it’s healthy to have a certain amount of specialization so that people can concentrate on what they’re good at, in order for an organization to be successful, everyone needs a clear understanding of how their role fits into the larger whole, and I’m not sure if Mark Jackson and the upper management side were ever on the same page.
For months, sources reported on friction between Jackson and upper management, which led to a conflict that divided loyalties throughout the organization and even in his own staff. In a radio interview with Dan Patrick, Jackson talked about how important it is for people to “stay in their lane”:
“At the end of the day, I’m a guy that believes that you stay in your lane…you know how I am, you’ve watched how I handle people, it doesn’t match some of the things that are being said…I have a boss, and I talk to my boss and deal with my boss…I don’t know how to dance with the business folks, the other lane…I was on the mindset that basketball was basketball and anybody who had a mindset to talk about that, I could have a relationship with.”
Later Patrick asked Jackson if he failed to “play the game” for upper management:
“Did I play the game? Who’s game? My front office, yes. I did not play the other side, the business side… I didn’t go into the other side of people’s offices, and try to get out my lane and be running reckless all around the building, which I thought would be disrespectful… if the worst thing that can be said about me is that I didn’t [understand] the business side… well, that’s not why I was hired.”
These, in my opinion, are the words of a man who believes that his decision-making should never be questioned by those who are not in the trenches, day in and day out, doing the most meaningful work, which for Mark Jackson, meant the basketball side. In his view, anyone from the business side questioning his decisions or trying to provide input is being disrespectful.
And it’s no surprise that Mark Jackson is also a pastor, because many pastors have the same mindset. Particularly in the African-American church, where the pastor is often viewed as an unassailable authority on all matters of importance, many pastors tend to dismiss the feedback they receive from committee members, board members, deacons, or other subordinate leaders, because they feel that the important ministry work they perform justifies the validity of every decision they make.
But sometimes the business side becomes unavoidable. After all, it was the potential business impact to the NBA’s bottom line that made Donald Sterling expendable. And for pastors, sometimes it’s prudent to pay attention to the business side of things. It’s one thing to trust God and reach forward in faith despite not seeing evidence, but sometimes the evidence is part of the way God speaks.
After all, you can’t expect people to come to a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ inside your church building if you lose your church building because you can’t pay the mortgage.
Lesson #2: Leadership must be multicultural to succeed.
It’s a generally accepted premise that Mark Jackson was loved by his players, especially his star players, Steph Curry and Klay Thompson, who had both beenvocal supporters of Jackson. It’s not surprising that Jackson, not only a former veteran NBA player, but also a respected high-profile pastor, would be a mentor figure for many of his players.
But for Mark Jackson, a successful coaching stint would’ve required not only reaching his mostly black roster of players, but his mostly white supervisors in the Warriors front office. Jackson is certainly not the first my-way-or-the-highway type of coach to find a measure of success in the NBA, but coaching longevity requires an ability to relate to different kinds of people. It doesn’t seem to be a complete coincidence that the one player on the Warriors roster that might’ve had cause for beef with Jackson was Australian center Andrew Bogut.
This is an especially salient issue because as a pastor of a black church, Jackson was probably used to people deferring to his leadership. But a more culturally competent leader might’ve recognized the additional layers of communication that exist beyond just what is said, and done more subtle work to placate his superiors. A more culturally competent leader might’ve picked up on the ways that such consistently public, consistently confident statements of faith might rub management the wrong way, especially after Jackson refused to move to a closer locale in order to continue pastoring his LA-area church. Where someone who grew up in church might hear a typical Mark Jackson press conference and think, “wow, here’s a guy grounded in faith who knows what’s important in life,” someone without that upbringing might think, “wow, here’s a guy who always thinks he’s right, no matter what.”
The irony here is that not only is this multicultural awareness important in corporate America, it’s just as important in the church, if not more so.
Much has been written and said about the ways in which white evangelicals have unwittingly contributed to racism in America, but for African-American pastors who minister to diverse congregations, the ecumenical landscape can be just as treacherous. Many of the committed, passionate churchgoers that these pastors end up shepherding come out of mainline traditions where the pastor is seen as less of an authority and more of a fungible employee, where the real power lies with the elder board or similar disciplinary body.
This dynamic can sometimes set up power struggles over church resources where the competing factions are divided across racial lines. And because in America we’ve been taught that racism is bad without knowing exactly what it is, the white people will vehemently deny that race has anything to do with it, despite operating from a set of norms and expectations that have racialized origins. (In their defense, these white people may not be used to having frank discussions about race, even if they attend a multicultural church. These norms appear to be invisible at first.)
Culturally competent leaders can spot this dynamic coming, and use their multifaceted powers of persuasion to get everyone to the table and, if not hold hands, at least be able to listen to one another. This ability clearly eluded Mark Jackson, and it led to his downfall.
Which brings me to my final lesson:
Lesson #3: You must have enough humility to admit and learn from mistakes.
I agree with many of Jackson’s fans who say that he is a great motivator and a solid professional, but I have yet to see in any of his post-firing media appearances any hint of willingness to own up to his faults. If anything, I’ve seen a lot of the same defensive posturing. During the same Dan Patrick interview, he maintained that he isn’t someone who still has to prove he can coach, implying that plenty of other teams will be calling.
In this, he is partially right. Plenty of teams will be calling. I’ll be surprised if Mark Jackson isn’t coaching another NBA franchise next season. But it’s not exactly true that he has nothing to prove. Mark Jackson has proven that he can turn a decent squad into an overachiever, but he hasn’t proven he can turn a good squad into a contender. It’s possible that all owner Joe Lacob and the other faction of Warriors management were looking for was a willingness from Jackson to look in the mirror and make some adjustments.
The irony in all of this is that coaches are usually the ones who have to preach humility, flexibility, and accountability to the players. Yet the best example of humility in the NBA comes from its leading player. Newly-minted league Most Valuable Player Kevin Durant recently spent his entire MVP speech delivering a heartfelt, tear-soaked tribute to the people in his life that helped him become who he is. Not only does he call his mom “the real MVP” for sacrificing so he and his brother could eat, but he literally called out each teammate by name, even Caron Butler, who only arrived weeks prior.
In that one speech, Kevin Durant provided a timeless example of maturity that has the potential to outlast and overshadow any of his achievements on the court. I know KD isn’t perfect, and he draws technical just like the best of them, but there’s a reason why the other guys on his team, including embattled-lightning-rod-for-criticism Russell Westbrook, play so hard in supporting Durant’s quest to be the best.
When it comes to humility in leadership, Durant outcoached Jackson by a mile, and Kevin Durant isn’t even a head coach.
If all this sounds overly critical toward Jackson, it’s not from a place of malice. I have a tremendous amount of respect for Mark Jackson, and I hope he can, pardon the ridiculous pun, rebound from this.
But if he doesn’t, if he continues to stay mired in the problems that dragged him down, then I and plenty of other onlookers will continue to use his catchphrase against him, initially coined in reference to an offensive player who’s making the defense look silly, but now thrown at a successful figure who can’t seem to get out of his own way:
In January, Macklemore & Ryan Lewis performed their gay rights anthem “Same Love” at the 56th annual Grammy awards show, staged as the soundtrack for dozens of actual same-sex marriages simultaneously officiated by Queen Latifah. Most of the major news and entertainment networks covered this as a bellwether event, generally positive in tone, and widely regarded as another breakthrough in the march for civil rights for gay couples.
In response, Houston-based rapper Bizzle released “Same Love (A Response),” wherein he criticized the agenda as he perceives it, highlighting what he sees as a double standard in the media of tolerance and celebration of same-sex marriage, but intolerance and judgment toward those Christians who express their view that homosexuality is a sin.
Odds are, if you care much about these occurrences, you’ve probably already made up your mind about the homosexuality debate. (I use that term rather loosely as really it’s more than one debate, there are, rather, a series of interlocking, related debates that involve the various roles of gay people in society…marriage, adoption, health care, employment discrimination, et cetera.)
Where a person lands on these issues is almost always a result of a complex set of beliefs, experiences and principles. This isn’t to say that a column, a song, or a mixtape-style response song, can’t help to change anyone’s perspective, but these things don’t take place in a vacuum. In today’s hyper-partisan environment, where the worlds of sports, politics and entertainment are regularly intermingled, every editorial has the potential to swirl around in an echo chamber that serves more to reinforce people’s existing beliefs than it does to challenge them. I say that not as a point of despair, but only to acknowledge the emperor’s naked elephant in the room (pardon the mixed metaphor): most articles on the internet don’t change anyone’s mind, and if we’re honest, few of them are even meant to.
Which is why, for a moment, I’d like to set the debate aside. Regardless of whether or not you view gay rights as the next round of civil rights, or whether you feel there is a gay agenda that could encroach on your religious liberty, there is one thing people on both sides can agree on:
One of the key issues at hand is respect.
R-E-S-P-E-C-T (sang Aretha!)
Macklemore wrote “Same Love” as a way to counter what he perceived as a culture of homophobia in hip-hop, a culture which amplified society’s general fear and distrust of people who are gay. Not only in plenty of hip-hop circles is “gay” a synonym for “weak or lame,” but in and out of hip-hop, so many dudes have been so afraid of being labeled as gay that the conversation suffix “no homo” was adopted just to clarify anytime one guy complimented another. This was the environment Macklemore was wading into before The Heist was released in 2012. So even if you ignore the meaning of the words, you can hear it in the “Same Love” track itself. By starting off with just piano and vocals, it’s clear that Macklemore was trying to contrast the normal hip-hop bravado with honesty and humility. He was trying to plead with the hip-hop nation, and by extension, to society at large, for a little respect for the cause of same-sex rights.
Similarly, Bizzle wrote his response to the same track, and attempted to imitate that honesty and humility. Only his plea was for respect for a worldview that he sees as becoming increasingly marginalized in popular culture – the traditional Christian view that says homosexuality is a sin. He responded honestly, trying to show how offensive he feels it is to compare the plight of gay and lesbian people to the systemic oppression and enslavement of African-Americans because, as he put it, “you can play straight, we can never play white.” And in the response track, Bizzle bristles at the irony that many of the people who say they want tolerance for gays and lesbians don’t extend that same tolerance toward him.
Both guys wanted respect to be shown to their side.
Which is why, even though I respect Bizzle for taking an unpopular stand based on his convictions, and even though I think he tried to be as loving as he knew how, I think he shouldn’t have done it this way, and maybe not even at all. Respect is a two-way street, and you have to work twice as hard to give it to get even half as much back. If “Same Love (A Response)” was intended to effectively engage people who are allied with gay and lesbian activists, it was doomed from the beginning. If it was truly done from a place of love, then perhaps, at that point, he just didn’t have enough of it.
Effective outreach vs. partisan cheerleading
First, “Same Love (A Response)” was doomed because the debate surrounding gay rights involves marriage, which is an institution that is simultaneously sacred and secular. This is why, at the end of most weddings that happen in churches, the preacher, pastor or officiant will usually say something like, “by the power invested in me by God and the state of [insert state], I pronounce you husband and wife.”
Before starting a religious debate about what God thinks about marriage and what it says in the Word of God about marriage, Bizzle would have done well to consider the possibility that any gay person listening may either not believe in God, or may be a Christian who has been treated poorly by fellow Christians in the past because of how they identify themselves.
If someone isn’t a believer, none of those arguments are relevant or compelling. If you’re using the same words, you’re still talking a whole different language. You might as well be arguing LeBron-versus-Durant to someone who has no interest in basketball. They may merely be interested in the same rights and respect as any other person choosing marriage.
But if he’s talking to gay and lesbian people who want a more sacred, Christian acknowledgement of their marriage, then he’s potentially talking to gay and lesbian Christians, people who, like any Christians, have given their lives over to Christ and are in the process of being sanctified and changed into the people He’s called us to be. So the way we Christians talk to each other should rise above the level of simply wanting to prove an argument.
This isn’t just a debate; we’re talking about people’s lives here. It’s not just their sex lives, but their everyday domestic lives, their careers, their dreams, their pain, their pasts and futures.
In the second chapter of Paul’s letter to the church in Philippi, he said this:
Therefore if you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind. Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others. (Phil 2:1-4, NIV)
Did you see it? He said, “having the same love.” Oh, the irony.
I want to stress one point – I’m not calling Bizzle’s motives into question. He might’ve had the best motives in the world. Based on what I saw in his song, I don’t think he hates gay people, nor do I think he thinks more highly of his own sin than he does of anyone else. I appreciated his attempt at the end, imploring people not to stereotype gay people, and encouraging those who are actively struggling against sexual desires of all stripes. And also, to be honest, I understand being offended at the “new civil rights” comparison. There are definitely plenty of ways where I think proponents of same-sex marriage have, at best insensitively and at worst unjustly, improperly appropriated elements of the African-American struggle.
But still, his response devolved into partisan cheerleading and probably did more harm than good. Sometimes even with the best motives, our flesh and our ignorance gets in the way.
Speaking of marriage…
I’ve seen this happen plenty of times in my own marriage (even as I worked on this column). My wife and I, like any couple that’s been married for a while, sometime get into disagreements. And sometimes during those disagreements, I get angry. And many times, what sets me off is what I perceive at the time to be a particular form of oversensitivity on her part. She gets hurt by things that I say, and I get annoyed when she says that they’re disrespectful, because hey, I didn’t mean it in a disrespectful way.
But I thank God for my wife, because she has learned, through many rounds of frustrated, teary-eyed (for her), ego-bruised (for me) discussion, a really valuable truth – respect is never just about intentions, it’s also about execution. It’s about saying loving things in as loving a way as possible. Rather than blaming the other person for not interpreting your choices as charitably as you would, it’s about swallowing your pride and making the tough choice to alter your behavior so that the other person can receive the message you’re trying to send. For me, in the moment, it’s about lowering my voice, softening my tone, and not being so directly confrontational. It’s about saying, “I love you,” and then backing it up, not just by apologizing each time I offend her in this way, but by and actually changing my approach so that it happens less often. By God’s grace, this allows us to continue to develop a rich and rewarding marriage, even though we sometimes offend one another.
It is in this way, in the turning-the-other-cheek, going-the-extra-mile way, that Bizzle’s approach failed. Some of his points were valid, but his execution was more defiant than it was humble. There were plenty of lyrical instances of Bizzle saying things that he felt needed to be said, but it seemed to me more of a I-need-to-get-this-off-my-chest kind of a thing, rather than a I-thought-long-and-hard-about-what-would-help-you-understand-where-I’m-coming-from-and-this-was-what-I-chose kind of a thing. And that often ends up being the difference between two sides yelling and actual communication taking place. It may seem fair to respond to one rap with another rap, but maybe a rap song isn’t the best vehicle to have a nuanced discussion. All in all, I think Bizzle could’ve done more to understand, and less to be understood. And that’s a posture we all could use more of.
Regardless of where you stand on the homosexuality debate, we all desire to be loved and respected. So if that’s how Bizzle, or Macklemore’s zealous fanbase, ever learn to show their love, then sign me up – I’ll have the same thing they’re having.
Single by Pete Rock, Lecrae, and Rapsody – Be Inspired
The latest shot from the naysayer crowd (I would call them “haters” but that’s played, and plus, I’m an adult) at Reach Records founder and holy hip-hop superstar Lecrae, came from Meeke Addison of Urban Family Communications. In her recent article, “Is It Time for the Church to Reevaluate Lecrae?” her argument is highlighted in the first paragraph:
If Lecrae were looking at himself objectively, even he would caution church leaders considering “bringing him in.” In his attempt to reach and engage today’s hip hop culture, the popular rapper has made some decisions that are destructive to the souls of men. Lecrae may be able to work with secular artists and not be influenced by their music content – but our youth are not.
Meeke Addison continues on, relating a story of when she was first impressed by Lecrae and his wife at a concert in 2005, and contrasts his prior, sold-out-and-on-fire-for-the-Lord stance with his current stance, which she deems as a slippery slope of compromise with wickedness. Addison infers several conclusions from Lecrae’s recent collaborations, among them are the following:
Lecrae believes that “being a Christian is unfruitful when attempting to reach the lost; you’ll be far more effective as a positive person.”
His collaborations with rappers like Pete Rock, David Banner and Paul Wall are implicit endorsements of all of their music and lifestyles ( “he’s telling our youth Kendrick Lamar is good for their soul”).
These collaborations, combined with public comments she interprets as downplaying his faith, mean that Lecrae is no longer unashamed of the gospel – the crux of his “11Six” identity.
Given the way that the church supported Lecrae during his upward trajectory, this reversal is not simply embarrassing to the church, but is tantamount to outright betrayal.
It sends the message that musical success cannot be found within the Christian market because Christian music is known to be mediocre.
Of these five assertions, the only one that even holds a little bit of water in my book is the last one, but they all stem from a fundamental assumption that I refer to as the “Sentient Song Fallacy,” which I learned about from the seminal work on Christian music ministry At the Crossroads, by legendary guitarist Charlie Peacock. Essentially, the fallacy is to believe that a song can be Christian. It’s not that Christians can’t make music that reflects our belief – obviously we can and often do. But a song itself cannot be “Christian” in the way that a person can, because a song is an inanimate object. It is incapable of coming to a saving relationship with Jesus Christ. It’s incapable of any sentient behavior at all, it’s just a song.
I believe this fallacy persists because of two important, symbiotic reasons.
First, it persists because of market forces. There are plenty of record labels who were started by Christians but have long since been bought out by multinational media conglomerates. These music companies have sustained a profitable business by selling music by Christians, to Christians.
But the market forces wouldn’t exist without evangelical gatekeepers, parents, church and community leaders, sometimes even political figures, who make it their business to decide which artists they will support and why. Sometimes, it’s just as simple as parents wanting to have music that they can play for their children that will not have profanity. But whatever the reasoning, evangelical gatekeepers depend on the machinery of the Christian music industry to help identify which songs and artists are worthy of their support. Which is understandable, especially if you’re talking about hip-hop.
There are obviously many contemporary hip-hop artists on urban radio stations and cable TV shows that no self-respecting parent would ever want influencing their child. And there are so many artists and groups, it can be difficult to keep track. It’s much easier to say, “well, if they’re on this record label, they’re probably safe.” Or, “if they record with this person, they’re probably safe.” Or, “if they performed at this event, sponsored by this radio station, they’re probably safe.” After all, there’s a reason why all those The Fish stations use the slogan “safe for the whole family.”
But this approach is flawed, for a bunch of reasons. Yolanda Adams, Marvin Winans and Fred Hammond are three of the biggest names in gospel music, with careers spanning over 20 years of music performance. Also, all three have gone through very public divorces. That may not disqualify them from ministry altogether, but I’m not sure I’d ask any of them to present their teachings on marriage.
My point is that artists are people, and people are more complicated than just what we can ascertain by putting them in boxes labeled “Christian” or “non-Christian.” Furthermore, there are songs by artists who profess to be Christians that might still contain elements of errant, heretical doctrine. On the flipside, there are songs by “secular” artists that may communicate certain Biblical truths very clearly, even though those artists may not publicly profess to be Christians.
So sometimes deciding who should be “in” and who should be “out” can be somewhat arbitrary, and it drives me crazy. This artist spent years on a Christian label and had a substance abuse problems. But this artist never recorded on a Christian label, yet released an album with a really compelling depiction of the processes of salvation and sanctification. Who should be in, and who should be out?
If your answer is, “it’s complicated,” then that’s my point. The Sentient Song Fallacy is bad because it enables lazy analysis and rewards shallow theology. If you’re a parent, you wouldn’t let some middle manager dictate what your kids eat for breakfast, right? So why let them decide what music they listen to?
As for Addison’s inferences, let me address them one by one:
Why is being a Christian mutually exclusive from being “positive”? Last time I checked, the fruit of the Spirit included love, joy, peace, patience … those all sound positive to me.
If we’re disqualifying Christian artists on the basis of their collaborations with people who do sinful things, I hope you stopped listening to The Winans after they collaborated with R. Kelly.
If you actually listen to the verse Lecrae does on the Pete Rock and Rapsody track, it seems pretty clear that he’s not ashamed to rep Christ in the general market.
Are we to assume that the Great Commission doesn’t apply to rappers? Or is it only acceptable for unsaved people to hear the gospel in a church?
First, I don’t think Lecrae thinks this. But even if he did, it would only be true to the extent that church people continue to insist their artists operate in a smaller, parallel music market marked “Christians only.” When Christ-followers who are talented, focused musicians tend to put their music in the general market, they often do just fine. Christian music isn’t the problem, it’s the marketing of Christian music.
To Meeke Addison, or anyone else who has a problem with Lecrae – please don’t think I’m just saying this because I’m a fan. On a basic level, I appreciate that you want to keep someone like Lecrae accountable. I just wish you didn’t operate with these assumptions, because we can’t have a real discussion about the music unless we address them.
Without that, we’ll just talk in circles, and that drives me crazy.
, in a brief reflection piece at The Houston Chronicle’s “Jesus Musik” blog, said that Flame himself released a single that bore an uncanny resemblance to another collaboration between Bruno Mars and Eminem. The implication is, y’know, glass houses and all that. (Here’s a link if you don’t know the cliché.)“You’ve heard it said ‘love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say, FILE SUIT against those who persecute you. Sue, and then after the inevitable news cycle churn, settle for a decent amount. But make sure those files stay sealed, or you’re gonna have a messy P.R. situation on your hands, so it’s best to just avoid the press for awhile. Stay in the dark, that’s what I always say.”
In case you think I’m being a little too pollyanna about all this, I’m a musician too. I understand the need to protect one’s intellectual property. And I certainly have no sympathy for the defendants, all of whom are, I’m sure, quite wealthy.
