John Lennon's Crucifixion Obsession

At the time John Lennon wrote the lyrics to The Ballad of John and Yoko which he recorded with the Beatles, he was criticized for referring to Christ's crucifixion in a rock song or for alluding to it in a secular context. It was especially displeasing to Christians that Lennon, an apparent atheist or agnostic, and one who was infamous for his "The Beatles are more popular than Jesus" statement, would then turn around and say that "the way things are going, they're trying to crucify me." To be quiet honest I have never liked his song very much, and quite recently, skip it when it comes up in the CD album sequence on my imaginary Ipod. I never cared for this song until today and the experience I had that gave me a first hand example of being crucified by others.

I started a new job about a month ago and though I've given it my all to the point of becoming physically sick by the rigors of the job, I, nevertheless, continued to be as helpful and as respectful of all I work with, both supervisors and those I supervise.

All this, I found out today, was in vain, apparently. My good intentions were mistaken for bad intentions. My going the extra mile was mistaken for cutting corners. My attention to detail was mistaken for bad judgment. My friendliness was mistaken for wasting time with needless pleasantries. My requests for information were mistaken for needless questioning of department policies. My adherence to department guidelines were mistaken for lack of flexibility. My confident assertiveness in the face of discourtesy by a subordinate was mistaken for intolerance toward someone who was trying to show me a better way to get the job done. In other words, I could do no right when trying to do so, and when I did right I was accused of not doing right in the first place.

At long last I felt, first hand, what it feels like when people try to crucify you. So to John Lennon's memory I apologize for thinking him insensitive to Christians for speaking of people trying to crucify you.

On a good note--all such cleansing revelations should have some positive lesson to learn--I realized that only Christ can take out the nails that others have tried all week long to drive into my hand, my feet, my bleeding side, as the hymn states. [When I Survey the Wondrous Cross on Which the Prince of Glory Died]. I always toyed with the mental image of being crucified with Christ, well, now I've got what I asked for. I know what it is to be crucified first hand.

May God bless you as well, as you ask him to take from out of your hands the nails that others--whether work associates, spouses, friends, family or strangers have driven into your hands. May Christ relieve your pain and may he cleanse you with his healing favor.

Beatles Music Used In Adventist Worship

The music of the Beatles' I'll Follow the Sun is tamer than some of the praise music sung in my local conservative Adventist church. Believe me when I say that my congregation is conservative although I'm sure there are more conservative congregations if you go looking for them. Nevertheless, the influence that the Beatles' music has exerted, perhaps unconsciously, on the composers of a significant amount of the music heard in my church is intriguing.

I had not attended an Adventist church for almost 15 years until four and a half years ago. The music I encountered bewildered me. The instrumentation featured mild electric guitar licks or passages. Almost every song featured mild to mid-tempo drumming. In addition, chord changes and rhythms that are found in Beatles songs were in the songs I heard in church. The lyrics were very spiritual and theologically sound, but the music that accompanied those lyrics were reminiscent of pop radio of the late 60s and early 70s. I didn't at first care for these modern-sounding church songs. I preferred the songs in the hymnal. I don't know when it happened, but at some point during the past four and a half years, the Beatles-flavored praise songs started sounding pretty good to me. They were easier to recall as I lived my life than the staid church hymnal hymns I had grown up with. I was concerned.

I still sing church hymnal songs during my devotions and my quiet moments, but those moments are becoming less and less. The modern-sounding praise songs are becoming part of my daily devotional meditations.

I supposed if someone played a karaoke version of some of the Beatles less-known music and sang sacred lyrics to them, no one would even notice and some would applaud the tamer praise song they had just heard. One of the tamest songs in the Beatles catalog is I Will from the White Album aka The Beatles. Perhaps in time, if is not occurring already, songs like this one will be heard in Adventist worship with religious lyrics not sanctioned by the Beatles' estate. Since it would not be for profit, there is no way that Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr, Yoko Ono or Olivia Harrison could prevent such Adventist Beatles songs from having their day in Adventist worship.

Even the music--though not necessarily the lyrics--of the Beatles can be used to draw people closer to Jesus Christ. Imagine that.

For a traditional treatise on this subject by the late Samuele Bacchiocchi, Ph. D. please see
"Christian Rock" Music In The SDA Church

Beatles for Jesus

With the world abuzz about the release of the Beatles' Rockband video game and all of their remastered CDS on 9-9-09 I was inspired to resurrect a trend that was popular among young Christians in the early 70s. To my surprise one could slightly change the words of one Beatles song, in particular, and sing it as a praise song to Christ.

The following lyrics have been adjusted and can be sung to the tune of And I love Her.

I give Christ all my love

That's all I do

And if you saw my Lord

You'd love him too

I love him

He gives me ev'rything

And tenderly

The kiss my saviour brings

He brings to me

And I love him

A love like ours

Could never die

As long as I

Have Christ near me

Bright are the stars that shine

Dark is the sky

I know this love of mine

Will never die

And I love him

Bright are the stars that shine

Dark is the sky

I know this love of mine

Will never die

And I love Christ

Living between Time

Ursula K. Le Guin's The Lathe of Heaven (1971) has influenced my perception of life more than I care to admit. The gist of the story is that reality is transformed by what the hero dreams. His psychoanalyst suggests ridding the world of racism. When he dreams about that, he awakens to a world where all of humanity is now gray-skinned. This and many other startling changes are brought about by his lucid dreaming.

Through the years, I didn't consciously think of that novel which I read at 15 or 16. I once caught a PBS adaptation (1980) which delighted me by its distillation into quite a completely different story from what I had imagined it to be. Nevertheless, for about 20+ years I've had the odd suspicion that some elements of life have changed ever so slightly than from what I clearly remember them to be.

One of the earliest occurrences was being completely befuddled at finding that a chord or motif that I had been so certain existed in the Beatles' Hey Jude, did not, in fact, exist. I imagined that I was mistaken, but in my mind I could still hear the other version that I had been familiar with. Now this is before bootlegs became widely available on the Internet and in Greenwhich Village rare records stores. It saddened me that I remembered a version of this famous song, that, in fact, no longer existed, or perhaps, never existed.

Another startling occurrence deals with a book that I have been reading since I was eleven, October the First is Too Late (1966) by the astronomer/mathematician/philosopher Fred Hoyle. I've read this perhaps four or five times in my life. The last time I read it I was astounded by the fact that a encounter between the hero and a historical/mythical person that I had vivid memories of having read many times before, suddenly had disappeared from this only paperback copy that I have always used to reread this story. I tried rereading it in case I had missed this significant encounter, but, alas, it was not to be found. I have a feeling that if I were to read this book again I might either find this missing scene again, or perhaps new ones missing, or--even more perplexing--a scene that I know I had never read during the previous readings of this unique book.

The latest occurrence of this personal phenomenon was when I recently learned of Ingmar Bergman's death. This stunned me more than you'd imagine, as I distinctly remember reading that Fanny and Alexander (1982) was his last film. I never heard anything else about Ingmar Bergman until this past month when all the news agencies reported his death at a ripe old age. Now the confusion may be that, yes, this film was in fact his last film, and his Swan Song, as far as feature films are concerned. He, however, continued making other kinds of films, mostly for Swedish TV. Now as much as I loved his work, and as much as I have immersed myself, obsessively at times, you'd think I would have read at least a review or two in the ensuing years, but that was not the case. Not until he died did I see anything in print in any of the major film or cultural media about this singular director. To my mind, this was indeed proof, that the reality I remembered quite certainly that Bergman died some time in the early 1980s, had, in fact, changed.

These are only two glaring situations in my recollection that illustrate this point. There have been, in fact, many others, including meeting people that no one else remembers, but I remember them because they left a huge impact on me. I always ignored these inconsistencies with other people's memories until I was able to reveal to relatives or close friends things they had said to me, 20 or 25 years ago, that upon some reflection, they admitted that they very well could have said that, but it was long gone from their memory. This gave me some assurance that if I remembered statements or situations in family member's lives or in those of close friends, perhaps I remembered other realities that others no longer remembered at all.

I'm not sure what this phenomenon is called. I thought briefly of how fascinated I used to be with the concept of déjà vu until until I read that it had nothing to do whatsoever with a mystical reality, but rather that it was caused by a trick of the mind. For years I often had episodes of déjà vu and they delighted and perplexed me greatly. Since learning that this phenomenon is a trick of the mind, I no longer experience episodes of déjà vu .

Recently I read in the New York Times that one major cosmologist believes that we change our evolutionary and cosmological past by what we collectively choose to remember or imagine it to be. This was both startling and comforting. I'm still looking for this recent quote, but, it seems to elude me the way other memories or recalled incidences have done for more than 20 years.

Perhaps one day I will remember that I wrote this post, but will find that no one read it or recalls it, and even more problematic, I will find no copy of it either here or in my hard copy binder of blog posts I've written.