Jesus hearts Daft Punk (and even me)

There are so many things that I don't understand

There's a world within me that I cannot explain
Many rooms to explore, but the doors look the same
I am lost, I can't even remember my name

I've been, for sometime, looking for someone
I need to know now
Please tell me who I am

There are so many things that I don't understand
There's a world within me that I cannot explain
Many rooms to explore, but the doors look the same
(where are the locks to try the key?)
I am lost, I can't even remember my name
(and I wonder why)

I've been, for sometime, looking for someone
I need to know now
Please tell me who I am

There was a time I would have used these lyrics as a juicy example of the anxiety and listlessness of the "secular" world. Even in a sermon, I might have paraded these lyrics as the truth of a life without Christ. Seeing a chink in my opponent’s armor, I would have pounced on it, slaying another for the cause of Christ. Chalk one up for team Jesus, to mix a few metaphors.

These days I hesitate before going for my sword, or my chalk. I might even find myself humming the song into my Americano or turning the lyrics over in my head. I might even find myself identifying with it.

Here’s the song, click thee upon it.  [BTW, the “video” is just a record player in a dark room, kind of matches the bleakness of the song…]

[used by permission from Vevo]

Congratulations to the slim minority of my slim population of readers who know who Daft Punk is. For the rest of us, Daft Punk is a French electronica music duo known for their mysterious stage presence in which they always appear in robot costumes. The public hasn't actually “seen” them for quite some time, although their music has a pit-bull-dedicated following in the dance world. I'm not near hip enough to listen to them, but occasionally run across them on Spotify mixes made by those more hip than I. 

Their music celebrates individuality, rhythm and good times, and seems to show no adherence to a formal faith.  Despite their party appeal, this song is unique.  In “Within,” we hear alienation, we hear pain—wandering lyrics over a solitary piano.

Why is it that the songs and stories we most freely identify with are about isolation?

And I do use the term “freely identify” on purpose. Despite my Christian hope, let alone my amazing family and church community, I can still nod my head as the French robots sing their sad anthem. I don't want to pounce any more, I don't want to jab for the exposed flank.

I think of times I've participated in these conversations, taking a little sick joy at the misfortune or depression of non-Christians. We might have a knowing nod at Christopher Hitchens getting terminal cancer from hard drinking and smoking; maybe raise an eyebrow when we hear about Nietzsche in the throes of syphilitic madness. One apologist I read had a long section about how messy Karl Marx's apartment was.

See, see we toldya so! We tried to tell you about Jesus and you didn't listen! Serves ya right!

How long ago did we miss the point? Rather than fumble it out in my own words, I'll quote someone famous and eloquent. Don miller writes about the prevalence of an evangelical subcultural peccadillo.

" The churches I attended would embrace war metaphor. They would talk about how we are in a battle, and I agreed with them, only they wouldn’t clarify that we are battling poverty and hate and injustice and pride and the powers of darkness. They left us thinking that our war was against liberals and homosexuals. Their teaching would have me believe that I was the good person in the world and the liberals were the bad people in the world. Jesus taught that we are all bad and He is good, and He wants to rescue us because there is a war going on and we are hostages in that war. The truth is we are supposed to love the hippies, the liberals, [and] that God wants us to think of them as more important than ourselves. Anything short of this is not true to the teachings of Jesus." [Miller, 132]

Mr. “Blue Like Jazz” has a point here. When did our humble presentation of God's saving grace become a volley of gunfire? Are we trying to live the gospel or win a fight?  How did Daft Punk and others outside the sad-French-robot-dance genre become my opponents before my fellow humans...

Here's some quotables:

“Save me, oh God, for the waters have come up to my neck...”

"And being in agony, he sweat more earnestly and his sweat fell like drops of blood…"

"For we know that the whole creation groans and suffers the pain of childbirth…"

Sound familiar? Places in scripture, from the life of Jesus himself, where the weight of the world is felt. Instead of a presentation of being happy all the day or five easy steps to victorious Christian living, these are moments of human honesty that we can all identify with.

What could be better evangelism than daring to be honest?

So thanks, Daft Punk, or merci bonque. In a world short of honesty from every perspective, you've opened your heart a little. In chaplain training, I was taught to ask, “Where are those coming from?” when someone wept. After sitting by thousands of bedsides and witnessing gallons of tears now, I find the question a more than a little invasive. Better to just sit with someone and acknowledge the sacredness of their tears with human silence.

And so with this song and similar moments. A word or maybe a silence of thanks to these musicians for their honesty, and not fodder for proving a point.

I believe that Jesus is the truth and that we are blessed to have a relationship with him by sheer grace.

Yet—this side of Heaven—if you cut us, we bleed.

And so does Daft Punk.

And so did Jesus.