Friday, May 29, 2009

man of sorrows...

"And at the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani? which is, being interpreted, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" Mark 15:34

This is Bruce Dickinson solo stuff, he is from ye old band, Iron Maiden. A band that capitalized on the 80-90's fascination with who could appear to be more devilish than the other metal band. Though they were not "Black Metal" their preoccupation with demonic themes and imagery, sent many a youth pastor into African drum beat theologizing about rock music etc etc. Fist pumping to the devil aside...I find many of these bands taking a hard look at theological knots better than many Christian bands in that era.

I think King David would of listened to metal...its full of honest wrestling with the darkness and light of the human experience, the complexities and mysteries of the Divine experiment and the realities of the soul's struggle with the flesh. And of course there is a lot of stuff to gag on too...but many a person has chocked to death on good food, as well as bad.

1 comment:

joey said...

maiden used to be one of my favorite bands in the 80s...
some of their lyrics are taken right out of the Book of Revelation...
my favorite maiden song really shows the songwriter had a "grasp" of Gospel theology...even he understood the end is near when we are killing the unborn in the womb.....

Iron Maiden- 2 minutes to midnight

Kill for gain or shoot to maim
But we dont need a reason
The golden goose is on the loose
And never out of season
Some blackened pride still burns inside
This shell of bloody treason
Heres my gun for a barrel of fun
For the love of living death.

The killers breed or the demons seed,
The glamour, the fortune, the pain,
Go to war again, blood is freedoms stain,
But dont you pray for my soul anymore.
2 minutes to midnight
The hands that threaten doom.
2 minutes to midnight
To kill the unborn in the womb.

The blind men shout let the creatures out
Well show the unbelievers
The napalm screams of human flames
Of a prime time belsen feast...yeah!
As the reasons for the carnage cut their meat and lick the gravy,
We oil the jaws of the war machine and feed it with our babies.


The body bags and little rags of children torn in two
And the jellied brains of those who remain to put the finger right on you.
As the madmen play on words and make us all dance to their song,
To the tune of starving millions to make a better kind of gun.


Midnight...all night...