reply to post by dontreally
But you see now, you are questioning my relationship with my God, one of, if not the most solid thing about my life to date.
When a man goes to church, he will hear sweet hymns played with a soft touch on the organ, and the strangled near emotionless dirge that the
congregation would like to believe is the song as sung in its original form, but in my expirience (of course Im willing to assume that this is
different in other churches than mine) differs so wildly from celebration and glorification of God, through its quietude, that in fact it seems a
diservice to his name.
In rage against this lack of effort, I would sing out as loud and clear as possible, with my voice never straying from the notes as they were meant to
be, and though I thought it might please the Lord to actualy hear his praises sung, others in the church would look upon me with annoyance, and
sometimes outright anger. I soon learned to be quiet, and eventualy gave up entirely singing the hymns in church. After a time, and the occurance of
our local vicar turning out to be part of a sordid affair involving a parishoner, I left the church entirely to its own devices, having over the years
realised the lie they all told themselves, and how toxic it was to my soul. The lie of course, is that a damned one amongst them were there to worship
Christ Almighty , the Lord of Lords, King of Kings and son of God. They were there to be social, to feel worthy, to be a part of the community, and
crucialy over the years, to turn away the poorest and most in need of Gods love and aid, claiming all sorts of petty differences as evidence of some
taint or other which would make them bad church stock.
Me being young as I was, understood that Jesus would have been mightily vexed by such behaviour, hence my taking leave of the hate behind the
cardigans and crucifixes of my supposedly fellow Christians. From then on, I devoted myself, amongst my other duties as a person, to living life loud,
to celebrating my existance, and to be as honest as I possibly could about it too.
So many years of repressing my fustration at the lies, and the pretences, and the utter inability of the pious to notice thier own sin, I stumbled
upon extreme metal. It was the first, and only music I have ever heard, that was unashamedly powerful and decisive and reminiscent of the music of the
great composers in its technical complexity . If you were in the room with it, it would chase you down and slap you till you listened! And I most
assuredly did. I listened, and I wrangled with myself about the connotations of the lyrics, and the oppressive nature of some of the overarching
structure of the music to which I was exposing myself.
I realised something about black metal especialy that effected me deeply. It was glorious. Harpsicord, juxtaposed so utterly sublimely with frenetic
bass riffs, improbable structure of the guitar sounds, and absolutely mind buggering drumbeats that defied my futile attempts to envisage thier
performance live, if only for the pace and skill with which they were delivered to my ears. Though I knew that in many bands producing similar sounds,
the intent of the lyrics were dark, and sometimes Satanic, my interest in the genre grew greatly, and so did my associations with other metal heads,
many of whom may I add, were , and still are by the grace of God, Christians.
When I was down on my luck , and had no place to stay but the cold streets, with a concrete matress and a blanket made of stars, it was metalheads
who took me in, though I had been refused entry to a church (while freshly washed and groomed I might add... some people do not appreciate effort) who
fed me , they who had been the tools of God, and given me a space and a blanket and even breakfast with no hint of expectation of a return of this
literaly life saving favour. I had never seen such generosity in my life, and these were not people of ample means. In fact one of them , still my
best freind to this day, was living in a room the size of a jail cell , out the back of a pub at the time, and though it was small, she gave the space
next to the bed, between the bed and the cupboard to me for as long as I needed it. Her spiritual thinking has long been, that she believes that
theres something beyond death, and that something made us, but shes unsure about the issue of God, because like me shes been exposed to the nasty end
of church, not the nastiest, but nasty none the less.
That girl must have been feeling open to the idea of a creator God at the time, because her input into my life , and the oppertunity of knowing her
as a friend are some of the greatest gifts from God that I have ever recieved, and over the years I have come to learn something about God.
I do not think that God gives a tuppeny toss what I listen to , so long as what ever it is makes me want to praise him. Why else would he have been
so good to me, and given me so many oppertunities to pay that goodness forward, for there have been many, and I have taken them. Why , if I was on the
wrong path, would I be allowed to go from the narrow fools who tried to teach me faith, if it was not the path he meant for me, and if by walking it I
would be tainted?
I have had, since listening to black metal, more oppertunities to spread Gods love to those who need it, than any of the people I ever met in church
have had. I have saved the life of drunks who would have choked on thier vomit, I have given food to the needy , water to the thirsty , in Gods name,
and headbanging all the way . I have prevented harm comming to the vunerable, and given saftey to those under attack from dark times on uncountable
If I had been doing what my moraly defuncted pastor was doing, or what his deluded flock were doing, I would have been sitting in my perfect home,
drinking perfect wine, having perfect meals and getting out and doing precisely NOTHING for my community what so ever. As it is, fifty three people
live, where without the grace of God , and my being there at the time, they would have died , alone often times. Fifteen marriages saved through the
counsel of fidelity provided through my mouth, with the sense and wisdom provided by one far greater in intellect , and power than myself. Countless
drunken nights ending without serious injury from a fall, because I happened by after being at a metal bar, and offered to carry someone home, though
I would have liked to be in bed myself rather than walking half a mile out of my way.
I would have been there for NONE of this, if it werent for Metal, and I would have had no feeling of needing to help anyone at all , if I had not God
in my heart. I would be less of a man, and less of a vessel for Gods word to reach those who need it, if I had just been sat at home, or at church
with the converted and the corrupted. At least out there in the darkness, shining a light makes a difference. More to the point, no one shouts at you
when you do something right.
We all have our paths to tread, and though I chose mine right enough, God is with me. Unlike Kreator I am not an enemy of God. I am a mere tool , and
he shall use me as he sees fit, regardless of the beats slamming , the guitars wailing, and the keyboards tinkling in my ears.