Some Christian songs don’t just suck because they’re cheesy. They suck because they’re heresy.
In 1992 or 1993 or sometime around then, Ray Boltz came to my church for a concert, and my mother dragged me to it. It was awful. I sat through two songs, then went out to sleep in the car rather than listen to any more of that crap.
People of my mother’s generation are uniformly startled when I refer to shmaltzy Christian music as crap. I can think of certain other Anglo-Saxon adjectives I’d like to call it, but simply calling it crap makes them question my commitment to God. They figure, “How dare he critique music that’s so heartfelt, so meant to glorify God…?” I dare because if it was meant to glorify God, it would be worship songs; and even if it is meant to glorify God, it should at least stand up to close theological scrutiny.
Here’s Boltz’s “Thank You,” the song that triggered this rant, which I was forced to endure four times for the kindergarten graduation. A parent picked the song. It sorta goes without saying that she’s a baby boomer.
- ♫ How about getting off of these antibiotics
- ♫ How about stopping eating when I’m filled up
- ♫ How about them transparent dangling carrots
- ♫ How about that ever elusive kudo…
No, wait, Boltz’s “Thank You,” not Alanis Morisette’s “Thank U.”
- ♫ I dreamed I went to heaven
- ♫ And you were there with me
- ♫ We walked upon the streets of gold
- ♫ Beside the crystal sea…