04 November 2010

Oh My God

Due to a variety of reasons, including a bad cold and plenty of homework, I forgot that Monday was Monday until today, Thursday. Yes, Music Monday is late. Again.

I didn't quite know what song to use this week: there were too many options to have a definite choice. I ended up on Oh My God, by Jars of Clay. A few years ago, my uncle, who recently died of pancreatic cancer, gave me the Good Monsters album by Jars of Clay. It was Christmas 2008, the year his cancer was discovered, and at the time, I was too immature to truly appreciate the album. In fact, I was afraid to listen to Oh My God because the lyrics seemed so sacrilegious to me. I listened to the flashier songs without even understanding the lyrics.

I've been increasingly frustrated with CCM recently because of its complete inability to face the brokenness that's inherent in this world. But this album is ... different. And I can't explain it. Just go listen to it, and you can start with

Oh My God, by Jars of Clay

 Oh my God, look around this place,
Your fingers reach around the bone,
you set the break and set the tone
For flights of grace, and future falls
In present pain all fools say, "Oh my God."

Oh my God, why are we so afraid?
we make it worse when we don't bleed,
there is no cure for our disease.
Turn a phrase and rise again,
or fake your death and only tell your closest friends,
Oh My God.

Oh my God, can I complain?
You take away my firm belief and graft my soul upon your grief.
Weddings, boats, and alibis,
All drift away, and a mother cries...

Liars and fools, sons and failures, theives will always say..
Lost and found, ailing wanderers, healers always say..
Whores and angels, men with problems, leavers always say..
Broken hearted, separated, orphans always say..
War creators, racial haters, preachers always say..
Distant fathers, fallen warriors, givers always say..
Pilgrim saints, lonely widows, users always say..
Fearful mothers, watchful doubters, Saviors always say..

Sometimes I can not forgive
and these days mercy cuts so deep,
If the world was how it should be, maybe I could get some sleep.
While I lay, I'd dream we're better, scales were gone and faces lighter,
When we wake we hate our brother, we still move to hurt each other,
Sometimes I can close my eyes and all the fear the keeps me silent,
Falls below my heavy breathing, what makes me so badly bent?
We all have a chance to murder, we all have the need for wonder.
We still want to be reminded that the pain is worth the plunder.

Sometimes when I lose my grip, I wonder what to make of heaven,
All the times I thought to reach up, all the times I had to give up.
Babies underneath their beds, in hospitals that cannot treat them.
All the wounds that money causes, all the comforts of cathedrals,
All the cries of thirsty children, this is our inheritance,
All the rage of watching mothers, this is our greatest offense
Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God.

1 comment:

  1. Wow. That looks like a really good song. I've heard some Jars of Clay but not this song.