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From the 1980s to the early 1990s, Roland Stephen “Steve” Taylor emerged in the CCM scene as a unique, prophetic and rare satirical voice. Dubbed the “Clown Prince of Christian Rock”, Taylor’s work is known for its topical themes, emulation of various musical styles, and biting but insightful critique of…pretty much every meaningful target for a Christian musician to comment on. Without going into too much detail, Taylor’s work particularly towards the end of the 90s fell victim to what is known as “the satire paradox”, in which satirical media is often only properly recognized as such by people who are already aligned with the message or ideology of the satire. Many conservative Christian media curators were put off by his work, particularly when he tackled such topics as abortion. This eventually led to his disillusionment with the Christian music scene (though he remains a devout Christian and has in recent years returned to CCM as a collaboration partner). He formed the secular band “Chagall Guevara” in the 90s and eventually returned to writing Christian music when he produced songs for the Newsboys, as well as a couple of solo projects with Peter Furler once the latter left the band.
Taylor is an interesting example to talk about, because his music is very decidedly non-liturgical for the most part. He doesn’t write “worship music”, and while his world-focused commentary is in some ways similar to Petra, he is much more topical and specific. In this respect, he does actually embody I would argue one aspect of liturgy: the lifting up of the needs of the world to God and for the community to see. In a way, his music resembles an irreverent litany.
A sample of his titles should give a sense of the tone of much of his work: “Steeplechase,” “Whatever Happened to Sin,” “I Blew Up the Clinic Real Good” (his critique of militant pro-life activists), “Since I Gave Up Hope I Feel A Lot Better”.
The song I want to examine, however, is atypical of Taylor’s satirical work but falls more in line with the later work he would do producing for the Newsboys and co-writing songs with their frontman, Peter Furler. The song is a haunting, poignant piece entitled, “Harder to Believe Than Not To”.
The song opens with an achingly beautiful sample of a choral piece by Rachmaninoff. The title and concept of the song itself are taken from a letter by Flannery O’Connor in which she responds to critics who were surprised that she was a woman of faith, critics who referred to faith as a “crutch”. O’Connor responded in her letter that it was “harder to believe than not to believe.” One beauty of this song is the way it weaves in other works of art and culture in an organic way that contributes to the song’s message. In this way, Taylor offers a blueprint for building upon a kind of Holy Tradition, something that more contemporary Christian artists could stand to emulate. We all exist in a context, whether we know it or not, and Taylor draws on the talent and thought patterns of faithful Christian artists while making the song his own.
“ Nothing is colder than the winds of change/Where the chill numbs the dreamer till a shadow remains/Among the ruins lies your tortured soul/Was it lost there
Or did your will surrender control?”
The song then moves to the plaintive chorus:
“ Shivering with doubts that were left unattended
So you toss away the cloak that you should have mended
Don’t you know by now why the chosen are few?
It’s harder to believe than not to”.
This song is both a critique and an exhortation. We are encouraged to consider that the life of faith will be costly, and that discipleship is not easy. But we are also encouraged to carry on boldly and bravely, understanding that enduring and persevering through trials (without inviting them) is a sign of faithfulness, not failure (as secular society and some prosperity gospel preachers claim).
Taylor also subtly but insightfully names the forces both inside and outside the church that seek to keep us from Christ our goal:
“ Some stay paralyzed until they succumb
Others do what they feel, but their senses are numb
Some get trampled by the pious throng
Still they limp along “
Before flowing into the final chorus, Taylor offers a sly but gentle jab at those who think faith is for the weak:
“Are you sturdy enough to move to the front?
Is it nods of approval or the truth that you want?
And if they call it a crutch, then you walk with pride
Your accusers have always been afraid to go outside”
This is a laugh at the expense of the darkness, and the words of a faithful person who knows that though the battle against evil and suffering rages on, God has already won the war. It is indicative of the “upside-down Kingdom”* of God’s economy, where weakness is strength.
In this piece, Taylor offers a liturgical prayer infused with kenosis, the emptying of the self in order to receive fullness from God. Brilliantly, the song not only provides a compelling formative model for self-emptying, but also frames such kenosis as, in its own way, revolutionary. Many CCM songs talk about humbling oneself before God, but it is sadly (particularly in American evangelicalism) done in a way that equates to self-loathing. Here is a perfectly poised counterbalance to that attitude, a song which rejoices in the foolishness of the Way of Jesus in the eyes of the world while simultaneously framing faithfulness as a source of spiritual strength. Contemporary churches would do well not to shy away from the prophetic, kenotic elements in their liturgy, and to employ gifted artists and musicians who have this kind of “iconographic vision”, a vision that sees all human endeavor not in worldly terms of power, prosperity and influence, but in Kingdom terms of weakness, humility and love.
*to borrow a phrase from Donald Kraybill, Anabaptist author and theologian.
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