On their Flicker debut, Wavorly apes Muse and C.S. Lewis and, half of the time, gets things right.
The trio of rocking sisters release their third, a derivative, preachy, but quite pretty affair.
This bell tolls for rock and roll and for compelling, lacerating songwriting.
An emotive sleeper that’s too fresh-faced and pretty to miss.
_CCM_ magazine renames itself in an attempt to remain relevant—and lucrative.
So I admit I have been desperately watching this Slice of Laodicea blog, which at times borders on the most frightening material I've ever read, for some part of some Christian issue on which I possibly agree with Ingrid Schlueter. I realize we're giving her lots of free press and that I have a tendency to settle into fixations, but hey – if something consistently generates interesting content, why not?
And so it came to pass that Schlueter recently blogged about a Christian music festival. She mocks this quote from a pastor involved in the CCM "Lifest" near Milwaukee:
The goal of living as a Christian individual or musician in a day when society is all too careful about excluding, discriminating against or making anyone uncomfortable with their faith is to walk the line, McGregor said. “It’s not to separate ourselves; it’s to expand, really. We try to keep our feet in both worlds."
Schlueter predictably pounces on the "feet in both worlds" line, pointing out that it's at best unscriptural and at worst anti-scriptural. I agree. The pastor's babbling is stupid on a number of levels: first, there's no evidence that the world at large is becoming increasingly exclusive or hostile toward Christians. In fact, it's just the opposite: Christianity has, generally for the worst, plunged itself into the mainstream of the American consciousness. And second, the whole concept of two separate worlds to which we must devote a foot each is unscriptural and generally idiotic. We are to be "in this world" but not "of" (tainted by, bound by) it, and not being "of" this physical world doesn't mean we're supposed to create a fantasy one in which to hang out instead.
With a tired load of unintentionally sexual lyrics and ad-nauseum repetition, Lifehouse gives up quality for Jesus.
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