OK, first, I have been nagging Tommy Tighe to create "Catholic GIFs" to accompany the already smashing great work by Catholic Memes and Eye of the Tiber. Great, funny, theologically-sophisticated work being done by all three...and it'll get even better when Tighe unleashes "Catholic GIFs."
Until then, though, the New Evangelization is doing quite well, thank you. It appears in places familiar--like religious orders--with a new spirit (which, when you think about it, you'll realize it's actually the [same] Holy Spirit) and some new tunes. So consider this:
Yes, the Franciscan Friars of the Renewal...with basketballs.
Some of the more sophisticated readers might think "well, they're mendicants so perhaps all that motion is vocational...part of their charism." That's correct but then consider this from Conception Abbey in Missouri. Benedictines channeling NWA, y'all. There are many things to bemoan in this world (Trump GOP candidacy, anyone?), but there are also signs of light among the darkness. And these young religious inspire the laity to pursue their own vocations in the world. And thus evangelization continues.
source; Facebook--with slight edits by yours truly.
Three years ago, in this blog's infancy, I threatened an extensive post on "hair metal" bands of the 1980s. Folks, that day has arrived. Advice: Turn up the volume--then continue reading. Prologomena: "Metal" is both an adjective and noun, and no, I don't mean the chemical form. Metal means heavy metal music: loud, abrasively rhythmic, searing guitar riffs and solos, usually piercingly high (male) vocals, and often dark, gothic lyrics. Metal sings both of human depravity and resistance. Metal songs can celebrate the crass debasement of sexuality...or it can illuminate the downtrodden nobody else knows about. It does so retaining some sort of melody, too. Metal is not punk, at least not in its origins. Crafted and spawned in American, British, and Canadian working classes, metal has defended "the rock and roll lifestyle" long after other genres sold out for better sales, better haircuts, and more exposure. Hence the adjective: "metal." Something metal means it's tougher, harder, unfiltered...and transcendent. Metal resurrects because in its frequent celebrations of death it also looks to life beyond death. If it's metal, it might be dangerous, occasionally unholy, and a stark threat to your entire personal being...and afterward you'll want another shot. Metal is not a drug; in fact, most illicit drugs offer only ersatz metal experiences. Metal overwhelms, pulverizes, and remakes your previous self. Metal is simultaneously cathartic and converting. Overkill's 1989 classic "Elimination" includes the defiant line "Fatal? You're sh*****g me! A second opinion's what I need!" Metal resists, even when it might seem all resistance is futile. Metal certainly disdains--and, let's face it, often seeks to destroy--Victorian tact and prim morals. Nevertheless, metal certainly understands Christian martrydom and the question of (apparently) unredeemed suffering. Prologomena, part II: Thus, despite stereotypes rooted mostly in the shallowness of white, evangelical Protestantism, metal and Christianity are not mutually exclusive. Roman Catholics especially enjoy theological, spiritual, and even historical connections to metal. Born-again Christians are stuck eschewing Led Zeppelin's classic Stairway to Heaven, concerned that nobody goes to the Father except through Christ (John 14:6). They are, of course, correct on one level, but, really, who can listen to that song and not see Tolkien's Lady Galadriel pondering Frodo's free offer of the One Ring? (H/T to Hillsdale's Dr. Bradley Birzer for that hermeneutic.) The song itself balances acoustic grace with, well, leaden guitar chords, just like a Gothic cathedral's own chiaroscurro. Led Zep recalls Tolkien--whose Catholic credentials need no defense here--in several other songs: "Misty Mountain Hop," "Ramble On," etc. Sometimes metal recognizes with frank clarity how the Christian faith's struggles amid the world's turmoils, needing God's grace and intervention to make it through. Skid Row's 1991 Quicksand Jesus (written by guitarist David Sabo, whose lyrics exude Catholic sensibility) offers an eloquent example.
Two great Google+ friends, +Lisa OFS and +Deacon Scott Dodge, routinely post great music clips. Here's one from Chris and Morgane Stapleton, taking a new look at an old country music.
Starbucks and Kohl's Department Stores have used the same song celebrating "the holidays." From the Times-Union story:
The song, which starts with "This holiday, I'm coming home to you," is not specific to Christmas or Hanukkah and it has plenty of oohs and aahs so the commercial's narrator has space to speak – all calculated to make the song more marketable to advertisers.
This as opposed to specific holidays like, y'know, Christmas or Hanukkah. But hey, it sells coffee--and obviously the young singer featured hopes it brings new musical opportunities.
Local angle: the musician creating and recording this song graduated from my institution, The College of Saint Rose. The College itself seems to follow the same sort of bland secularized holiday feel the song celebrates. On the other hand, the same college also produced Father Matthew Venuti, one of the Anglican Ordinariate's first priests.
Thus an on-going, and beautiful, even as that beauty often emerges amid anguish and suffering (spiritual and physical), paradox of Christianity: that particular commitments--heck, let's call them what they are, conversions--appear amid life's predominant, bland, undifferentiated reality. Thus the Catholic tradition extols some of the greatest spiritual autobiographies: Augustine's Confessions, Newman's Apologia pro vita sua, Merton's Seven Storey Mountain, and Day's The Long Loneliness. More recently converts such as Scott Hahn, Jennifer Fulwiler, and Patrick Madrid's Surprised by Truth series detail new versions of this same story.
Something similar works in the time-tested Christmas favorites. When played endlessly before Thanksgiving, the songs--particularly the secular ones like "Walking in a Winter Wonderland"--can, for all their imagery, lose some of their appeal. What makes Christmas music Christmas is, of course, the Christian particularity. Warm fuzzies can take us only so far. We can come home any time during the year, but only once during the year does the joyful news that Christ is born ring true.
