Loose Ends... Confessions of an Unfinished Faith
“Good Grief”
I have always had a special affinity for Charlie Brown and his motley crew of friends. Ever since I was a little girl, I have been drawn like a magnet to those quirky characters, first born in the imagination of Charles Shultz decades ago…immortalized in the Sunday comics and still kept alive in my own childish heart today. I love that stupid blanket Linus drags into every scene, even though it makes him rather pitiful. I love the filthy dust cloud that hovers around Pigpen, overwhelming and choking all his pals to tears. It’s clear he is loved anyway… I adore the ever hopeful Sally and her sappy lovesick dreams. I feel compassion towards Lucy, the resident know-it-all, probably because I begrudgingly identify with her snippy self. Schroeder is another favorite, for obvious reasons. And Snoopy…well…who could possibly resist loving Snoopy? More often than not, he is the protagonist, stirring up trouble when there wouldn’t be any otherwise and then casually climbing up to the top of his red doggy roof to observe the mayhem and snicker at the fallout. Man’s best friend…right.
And while I could spend pages pontificating on my deep appreciation for the characters of a
ground-breaking cartoon from the 1950’s, I have to admit that the most endearing part about all things Charlie Brown and his peeps, is the way they feel about grown-ups. If you’ve followed the comic strip at all…or watched the Christmas special, or the Great Pumpkin, you would know that every time they introduce an “adult” into the story line, he or she is defined by one memorable characteristic….an annoying, indecipherable, nasal and monosyllabic whine. It might be a teacher, or a principle or a parent. No matter…you never actually see a grown up face. You never even see grown up shoes. You do, however, hear the unmistakable sound of authority through the ears of a child…”Whah, whah.... whah, whah, whah…whah, whah, whah…” Charles Shultz knew that kids have built in bogusometers. Anything that feels or sounds like empty or senseless rhetoric to them, will most likely get the “Whah, whah” translation.
Sometime ago, I was performing a concert at a church. This kind of “gig” is a fairly standard one and an assumed part of most artists’ calendars. I very much enjoy these weekends. There is something so satisfying about getting out on the road and sharing the love of Christ through music under many church roofs and across a vastly diverse theological landscape.
But this particular weekend, my good friend and guitarist Clint and I, were discussing how bizarre the Christian lingo must sound sometimes… how it materializes on the lips of perfectly normal people without warning and how it leaves the listener a tad uncomfortable at best. We had just finished sound check…decided on the set list…met the worship pastor…chatted briefly with him about life…his family…the weather…Starbucks…you name it. Totally benign, casual conversation. And then, when it came time for that same pastor to pray with us before the concert, he suddenly morphed into uber-Christian without warning. It would not have shocked me if he’d suddenly grown a cape. We were huddled there, in his office, asking for God’s blessing and presence…a moment to quiet ourselves …and within seconds, he was speaking a language that sounded faintly like…oh, forgive me… like Snoopy’s teacher. “Whah. Whah…..Whah, Whah.” In what was simply meant to be a sincere and uncomplicated moment of prayer…I found myself mentally wading through his seminary speak….trying to keep up, but I got lost and distracted sometime after the “Throne of Grace” part and somewhere just before the part about “joining our voices with the throngs of archangels and beseeching God to pour out a fresh anointing among us.”
By that time, I was pretty much not praying anymore. I was certainly not “beseeching.” I had actually started daydreaming during his prayer about how hard it would be to slip the word “throng” into a normal conversation. Might be fun to try.
Here’s what I want to make clear, before you get all offended that I’m critiquing someone’s prayer life. I am plenty guilty of the same thing. For me, it happens less in the form of a prayer, and more from the stage. If, during a show, I ever start to wander off course…can’t quite remember the story I was telling…can’t figure out how to segue into the next song…I automatically default to Snoopy Teacher talk. I have no idea what I’m saying in the moment…I just know that years of growing up in the church and on a stage have taught me how to pull Jesus jargon out of a hat in no time flat.
(And here’s a little known secret that most artists will never admit to…if you are REALLY tanking…just end every sentence with… “Amen?” And your audience (even if they’ve been writing their grocery list in their head) will automatically respond with a firm “Amen!” And you’re back in business.)
I really hate that I know how to speak fluent “Whah. Whah”…and that it comes so quickly and naturally. It stings even more when I head to scripture only to discover that Jesus never spoke it in his life…didn’t need to…probably couldn’t have if he tried. And even though us lifelong churchers are trying to shake the habit, imagine how it must sound to someone who has no history or context with that language. I brought a friend to church a few years back….he didn’t know Jesus…and I while I thought the service was very relevant and pertinent, all he asked me over lunch was why “those people” are so obsessed with “the blood.” Whose blood, he wondered? “Why, the Lamb, of course…” I offered.
“Aaah. Thanks for clearing that up. Check, please.” He was busy the next Sunday.
Even right now…no lie…I’m staring at my computer thinking, “Okay Nichole, time to wrap this up with something spiritual…the perfect verse…a quote from C.S. Lewis…you know…knock it home. I think this time around though, I’ll just be grateful for the name of this column. Some ends are better left loose.
Here’s to anybody else whose faith feels unfinished.
I’m hoping there are a few out there…maybe even a throng or two.
by Nichole Nordeman (February, 2007 – CCM – Loose Ends…Confessions Of An Unfinished Faith
nichole
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