by Dan Haseltine I have had a long-standing recurring dream. I am in a small room with a single lamp positioned to shine down on a drafting table. There is a man furiously scribbling and drawing while I look...
I know, I know… we are still having this conversation. I would let it go if I thought that the world would be a more peaceful place without it. I also recognize this is a bit of a strange forum for this conversation because the very name of this media outlet conjures a distinction that I have long spoken against. Now, I am happy to temper the accusation as less of a moment to point fingers or pass blame.
To be resilient is the underlying wish anchored to the deep human longing to be healthy. Sickness is inevitable. Suffering is a part of life. Whatever the various forms of struggle may take, we want to be able to quell the fear that we will not recover. Our Christian faith is tightly wound around a narrative about recovery and healing.
If you want to keep your kids out of harm’s way, be generous. If you want to actively prevent war, be generous. If you want to love your neighbor to the end that love is victorious, be generous. Not only to the people inside our constructed border concepts, but to everyone.
I have long been a student of culture. I believe it is part of the discipline necessary to write songs that are truthful. If the work of a songwriter is to look at the world and describe it, then one must assuredly become a master of the art of observation. And, so it is with how I have come to see the current point in history related to Christians, politics and the stewardship of the muscles we have, specifically designed for acting out generosity toward others.
I should not have been so surprised that instead of emerging from some safe place as a hopeful, vibrant idealist with a penchant for creating passion infused worship songs about God’s magnificent creation, I went from being a mildly cool music artist to become something of an old curmudgeon.