Chapter Five traces the developments of the Christian music industry from a movement of 'burned-out hippies' for Jesus to the 'multibillion dollar market force known as CCM". The history of the movement beginning in the 1960's with figures like Lonnie Frisbee and the Calvary Chapel in Costa Mesa is well told. Nichols summarizes, "The Jesus People would eventually exchange their hippie ways for more settled lifestyles, but as they came into evangelical churches and even formed new denominations or affiliation, such as Calvary Chapel and the Vineyard movement, they brought something with them, namely, their music and their very warm, personal, experience-based relationship with Jesus...One thing the certainly did for American evangelical Christology was to focus on the love of Jesus" (pg 127).
Nichols doesn't hide his opinion. He quotes approvingly Hank Hill, of King of the Hill, "You aren't making Christianity better, you're just making rock and roll worse" (quoted pg. 135). More seriously, he writes, "One problem that arises, however, is what CCM communicates in general about evangelicalism's ambivalence to culture. While the early days of Jesus music had an edge, arising as it did from the streets, CCM today has dulled the edge, producing music that is safe, not all that complex and artistically ranking a little below the songs on pop albums that don't make it into radio circulation" (pg 135). In addition, Nichols is highly critical of the version of Jesus that is actually taught (yes, songs have a strong didactic force) by much Christian music. Much of it has a romantic, even erotic, experiential base to it.
Nichols concludes that "CCM is a microcosm of American evangelicalism...Evangelical tend to get their theology from popular novels...they also get their theology from popular music...This raises concerns about the type of theology CCM teaches. More specifically, what type of Christology does CCM teach?" (pg 143). In essence, it teaches that Jesus will be that friend (boyfriend/girlfriend?) that will stick with you through life's storm. Not necessarily wrong (open to debate), but shallow and limited in scope.
Traveling west from Nashville to Hollywood, Nichols helps the reader think about how Jesus on film has shaped American Evangelical Christology. I had no idea how many Jesus moves there have been, stretching all the way back to the era of the silent movie. Nichols, predictably, raises a few concerns regarding the portrayal of Jesus on film, questioning if it is something that can possibly be done well. The thesis of the chapter is clear, "[Jesus] doesn't shoot well. He's not a very good celluloid savior...This is not to suggest that nothing can be gained from the etnerprise of converting the Gospel accounts into film...This is especially true of the 1979 Jesus film and the Jesus Film Project, which occurs mostly out of the arena of commercial venues...But putting Christ on the silver screen involves tradeoffs - many things can be lost in translation" (pg. 152).
Given the limitation, why were evangelicals so quick to jump on the The Passion bandwagon, touting it as the greatest evangelistic opportunity in centuries? It is odd since it had an R rating and an abundance of graphic violence. Nichols offers a complex answer, but central to it is the appeal it makes to the experiential. Nichols quotes Leslie Smith, "The people with whom I spoke gauged the Passion's [biblical] accuracy not by measures of specific historicity but rather by the emotions the film evoked in the viewer and the extent to which it could lead to a conversion experience" (pg 149). Cynically, he also argues that evangelical leaders endorsed the movie so enthusiastically because they were seduced by the limelight, enjoyed their position on center stage, and because they craved "the legitimacy that it granted both their group and their message" (pg 149).
Chapter six conclude with Nichols arguing that Jesus and film just don't mix well. Yet, Nichols still sees great potential in Hollywood. He argues, "we don't need a full-fledged Jesus film to launch an evangelistic campaign. In fact, given some of the problems with putting Jesus on the big screen, Christ-figure films and redemptive films might actually be the better way for telling the story of the good news" (pg 170).
I will spend little time on chapter seven, which is essentially about Jesus junk. Jesus junk has a long, and disturbing history, dating at least to the Victorian era (a case could be made that it dates back to Medieval selling of relics). The chapter is both amusing and depressing, as Nichols describes witness golf balls, "Jesus is homeboy" tshirts, videos (which criticize the commercialism of 'StuffMart', while at the same time selling themselves to consumer at 'StuffMart'), Christian Yellow Pages.
Nichols epilogue tells the reader what we already now know - Jesus hasn't faired to well in American evangelicalism. The way forward, Nichols argues, is to listen again tot he Jesus of the historic church, of Nicea and Chalcedon. Nichols anticipates the reply, "ah, the framers of these creeds were also conditioned by their cultures." He responds, "It may be very well prudent, however, to ask, How can the church improve on declaring, as those bishops did, that Christ is fully God and fully human, with tow natures united perfectly in one person...These creeds and the biblical tests they are fashioned from provide the church with its perennial theology, which the church in any country in any century simply cannot afford to live without" (pg 224). We have, in our pragmatism, shrunk away from complexity and opted for simplicity time and time again - Just Give Me Jesus. Yet, in the area of Christology, simplicity doesn't cut it. "Jesus comes to us primarily in complexity" (pg 226). If we cannot embrace the complexity of Jesus, or are unwilling to, Nichols doesn't see much hope for the evangelical movement in America.
While I may not agree with ever jot and tittle of Nichols argument, the overall case is sadly compelling. Again, I'll commend the entire book to you and pray the church will hear Nichols well.
3 comments:
Going by your review, I'd say that Nichols isn't saying much more than what everybody already knows. I've read other books somewhat like this, where the academician (or journalist) goes on a trip in the "red states" to "study and report back on the primitives and their strange customs," the primitives in this case being the American evangelical xtians, along with specimens being provided of their kitschy artwork and atrocious music. I might check out the book from the library and give it a look over, but it sounds to me like a yawner and a yet another "gosh aren't they weird?" books.
Thanks for the comment, though it's made me feel like a horrible reviewer. I'm sorry if that's what you've taken away from it. You can get that in a hundred different place. What Nichols offers is different for several reasons. First, he's an insider. As an evangelical, he's deeply committed and concerned for the health of the movement. Second, it's not just a 'they are weird' story. It's a story of how American culture and evangelicals have fashioned a new and innovative doctrine of Jesus (Christology). Many of the chapters discuss forces outside evangelicalism and the effects that they have had on the American Jesus (i.e. chapters on the New Republic, the Modernist/Liberal movement, and even the Hollywood chapters are primarily concerned with outside forces and how they have shaped American Christology, even evangelical Christology). Also, his prescription is important. He's not just mocking evangelicals (though he does do that). He offers a prescription: return to the robust, stable Christology of the creeds and confessions.
Sorry I've not done a good job articulating/summarizing Nichols. It's more than a fluff piece poking fun and Conservative Christians from Red States. Hope you'll check it out anyways.
Come out of her, my people, that ye be not partakers of her sins, and that ye receive not of her plagues. For her sins have reached unto heaven, and God hath remembered her iniquities.
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