Some of the greatest music, not just of the past century but of all time, is derived from Christianity. Hymns written hundreds of years ago still have the power to bring a tear to a listener’s eye. Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy”, one of the most famous pieces of music in history, is an exaltation of God. Many of the great singers of the 20th century, such as Aretha Franklin and Mavis Staples, started out singing gospel songs in church. Sister Rosetta Tharpe, the singer and guitarist who helped define what we now know as rock music, was a gospel singer. Even today, a diverse array of artists as different as Kanye West and Sufjan Stevens make music inspired by
their spirituality.
And yet, when someone says “Christian music”, none of those artists are what comes to mind. The phrase “Christian music” has become synonymous with colorless mush, full of Daughtry-esque hacks chugging away on guitars while the lead singer bleats about seeing the light. While that’s obviously a gross generalization (#notallchristianmusic), the complacent, choir-preaching nature of faith-based entertainment rewards those who color inside the lines and avoids stepping on anyone’s toes. The result is staid, unimaginative fluff, musically conservative even when it’s not being politically conservative.
Credit, then, to Citizens, who mostly avoid the pitfalls of modern Christian rock on their new song, “Teach Me”. Based in Seattle and formerly of the controversial (now-defunct) Mars Hill megachurch, the band is led by Zach Bolen and Brian Eichelberger. Their earlier records are essentially Christian-flavored indie rock, not dissimilar to what you’d hear from the Passion Pits of the world. On “Teach Me”, though, the mood is darker and more contemplative, both musically and lyrically.
The song is a slow build; guitars and drums lope forward, flanked by electric keyboards and what sounds like a digitized choir. Meanwhile, Bolen sings, presumably to God, and in a rather dark place. He describes a bleak, hopeless state of mind, when there’s no light at the end of the tunnel and he feels so broken down that he can hardly get out of bed, and asks God what He’s trying to teach him in those moments. Even as the song builds to a grand, uplifting crescendo, we never get the sense that the question is answered.
On the band’s Twitter page, Citizens describes “Teach Me” as “an introspective confession of sorts, dredging through the unknowns and afflictions they often bring.” That sense of the unknown is present throughout the song, in its downbeat mood and its unanswered questions; we sense that Bolen is feeling, if not doubt, then perhaps an existential uneasiness that not even absolute faith can fix right away. The ambiguity is welcome, and sets it apart from the unshakeable certainty of other sorts of Christian music.
Goodness knows that I’ve felt a similar unease, with or without religion (I was raised Catholic, but I’m currently an agnostic, which means I get the guilt of the former and the existential terror of the latter). The chaos and cruelty and hopelessness of the modern world can be too much to handle, especially as of late; sometimes I feel like I’m going about my business simply because there’s nothing better to do while irreparable damage is being done to our institutions, our environment, and humanity as a whole. I don’t know if the source of Bolen’s unease is the same as mine (Bolen, for his part, is vocally anti-Trump, an increasing rarity in faith-based media), but I do know that he’s able to express it in a way that resonates with me, even though I’m not a believer. And that, at the very least, is worth celebrating.
