I’ve been following the story of David Bazan’s retreat from Christianity with a sort of painful assent. The once iconic frontman for Pedro the Lion, “Christian indie rock’s first big crossover star,” has become an agnostic.
It’s sad. But hey, it happens all the time. The once faithful lose faith, begin to question the Church, her Lord, and His offspring. What happens next is fairly predictable. And I can’t say Bazan’s story is anything new. Although he’s a thoughtful guy, it’s that age-old question of human suffering and divine sovereignty that keeps coming round.
But perhaps even more mysterious than David Bazan’s apparent apostasy is the Christian community’s grappling with him. I mean, how does one approach the wayward musician? Do we shun him? Do we interrogate him? Do we seize his “Christian” cred and hold him hostage to our censors? Enter Cornerstone.
Cornerstone is one of the premiere Christian music festivals in the world. This year, Bazan was invited back. But after his very public divorce (or separation) from the Church, why?
“I know David has a long history of being a seeker and trying to navigate through his faith. Cornerstone is open to that,” says John Herrin, the festival’s director. “We welcome plenty of musicians who may not identify themselves as Christians but are artists with an ongoing connection to faith. . . . We’re glad to have him back. We don’t give up on people; we don’t give up on the kids here who are seeking, trying to figure out what they don’t believe and what they do. This festival was built on patience.”
So Cornerstone welcomes “musicians who may not identify themselves as Christians but are artists with an ongoing connection to faith.” That’s a fairly fuzzy line, don’t you think? And in the case of Bazan, his “ongoing connection to faith” involves questioning God, using profanity, and distancing himself from the Church. So what’s someone like this doing performing at a Christian music festival?
That’s a question Christians have long debated — When do we include an artist under our umbrella? Must they pass a three point theological inspection? Must they be a non-smoker, a non-drinker, happily married, and active in a local church? Must they articulate in their art a clear commitment to orthodoxy? Must their work reflect Christian values? And if so, what does that look like? Or is it enough that they simply be “seekers”? Call me wishy-washy, but I think this type of ambiguity is a necessary part of fleshing out the Gospel of grace.
D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, in his classic 14 volume commentary on the Book of Romans, said this about grace and its implications:
… If it is true that where sin abounded grace has much more abounded (Rom. 5:20), well then, ‘shall we continue in sin, that grace may abound yet further?’ (Rom. 6:1)
First of all let me make a comment, to me a very important and vital comment. The true preaching of the gospel of salvation by grace alone always leads to the possibility of this charge being brought against it. There is no better test as to whether a man is really preaching the New Testament gospel of salvation than this, that some people might misunderstand it and misinterpret it to mean that it really amounts to this, that because you are saved by grace alone it does not matter at all what you do; you can go on sinning as much as you like because it will redound all the more to the glory of grace. That is a very good test of gospel preaching. If my preaching and presentation of the gospel of salvation does not expose it to that misunderstanding, then it is not the gospel. (emphasis mine)
Though grace is not a license to continue sinning, when it is rightly presented, that misunderstanding is inevitable. This notion that grace and its actions are often and easily misinterpreted is, I think, applicable in the case of David Bazan. Perhaps his inclusion in the fold is not nearly as damnable, or as cut and dried, as some would want. And that might, actually, be a good thing.
Jesus was often misunderstood in His outreach towards societal outcasts and religious miscreants, so much so that He was called “a drunkard and a glutton” (Matthew 11:18-19, Luke 7:33-34). Point is, Christ embraced people in ways that confused and angered the religious bureaucrats. While the Pharisees’ criteria for membership was high and hard line, Jesus’ seemed more ambiguous, if not whimsical. At one point, He stated that “tax collectors and prostitutes” were entering the kingdom of God before the chief priests and religious elders (Matt 21:31). How’s that for a monkey wrench in the system! Jesus approached people differently than conventional religious wisdom suggested. And maybe we should follow suit.
No, I’m not inferring that we cavort on the fringes of society and accepted social conduct, but that living a life of grace will, on occasion, be misunderstood and go against the grain of conventional religious wisdom. In fact, the best test of Christianity may be the degree to which we are misunderstood. Are you, occasionally, accused of licensing sin, freedom, hedonism, or philosophical adventure? If so, you’re in good company.
Like it or not, grace contains grays. And learning to live with those potential “misunderstandings” and “misinterpretations” may make us happier, more fruitful, citizens of Heaven.
Looking at David Bazan through this lens, I think what the Cornerstone director did was probably right. Of course there must be a line that Christians draw. Every artist should not be included in the believers’ fold. But that line might not be as clear as some of us would like. In fact, it might be pretty gray.
Well articulated. Thanks. I was just listening to "Control" and thinking about Bazan's change of heart. Although I'm a Calvinist, the old "his faith was never genuine" formula rings false. His music ministered to me, and now he no longer believes what I believe. What am I to do with that?