Alright, so for the purposes of the post, here are the lyrics: 

This isn’t easy for me to admit

I got a fire inside and some words I know I can’t keep in

I see faith turning’ into a show

Of Sundays and sermons and words getting caught in the flow

Oh, but we got real pain and real fears

Thirsting for the drying’ of our real tears

It’s not satisfying anymore

Ain’t it true that the veil was torn

Chorus:

[I don’t need no stained glass to be washed in his blood

I don’t need no perfect, put together, pretty words to be enough

No, I want Jesus and His real love

Something that I crave deep inside of my bones

So you can leave your religion at home]

Spent my life trying

To keep all the rules

Now I know it’s about what He’s already done

Not about what I think that I gotta do

[Chorus]

I want real, real love, hey

I got real pain and real fears

Thirsting for the drying of real tears

It’s not satisfying’ anymore

Ain’t it true that the veil was torn

[Chorus]

I want real, real love

I want real, real love

I want real, real love

Oh, yeah, yeah

The gentlemen professed his displeasure with the song, stating that he felt the message was dangerous and false. The commenter’s concern was that the song propelled “vilified” legitimate parts of our Christian walk. He was particularly concerned that things like “being good,” “playing the part,” and “stained glass” were being attacked, and that those things were now being considered “burdensome” and “religious.” 

Basically, the guy said he was “growing more and more weary of hearing attacks on the church coming FROM the ‘church…. When we are saved those things they are looking at as being ‘superficial’ are ACTUALLY signs OF salvation.”

Now, let me start with what I first told him: I acknowledge his point. I think it’s a valid concern. 

The product of a genuine faith is in our actions. The proof is in the puddin’ as they say. (James 1:22, John 15, Gal. 5:22) We will bear fruit in our lives, fruit of our maturity and growth in Christ. Our love for Him will move us to want to attend church, to serve our communities, and to gather and fellowship and worship. The body of Christ is a magnificent thing and not to be taken for granted or forsaken. The life-changing blood of Christ and our salvation will move us to strive to be better people, which results in “being good” and “playing the part,” etc.

Given that, I understand his concern with the idea of forsaking gathering and growing in our churches, in His body, and in our walk with God. However, that isn’t the message I hear in this song. 

Admittedly, there are people out there who use their salvation as a means to brush their hands and claim that they’re done. Yeah, we need to deepen and grow. And, yeah, mediocrity isn’t okay. I don’t want to be a lukewarm Christian (Rev.3). I want to be zealous for my God—like Moses, like David, like Abraham. And I want the transformation that my relationship with Him inevitably brings (Rom. 12:2, Ezek. 36:26)

But, when I hear the song, I consider this: the cry of a lost soul vs. the fruit of a seasoned follower. In Hebrews, we’re told to move from milk to solid food (5:14). But that was instruction given to an audience that had already had milk, people who were ready to move on and grasp something deeper. Or, even the cry of a saved soul who is still learning to place their salvation and worth squarely in Christ’s hands and not in their own.

“I want Jesus and His real love, something that I crave deep inside of my bones.” Even as believers we have “real pain and real fears” and we “thirst for the dryin’ of our real tears.” We were created to walk with God, to be in His presence. There is a deep need rooted in the very fibers of our being, a need that only Christ can meet. Can you imagine the hopelessness and darkness that an unbeliever faces without God to cling to? If we, as believers, yearn for God to heal the broken parts of our souls, how much more someone who doesn’t know His love and grace yet? Furthermore, even as believers, we face self-doubt and struggles! No one is immune to insecurity.

Part of this song is a cry for God to work in our lives, to reach us where we are, and to transform us—for that depth and closeness in relationship that we need, deep in our bones, our innermost being: what we were created for—to reside in Him.

“Ain’t it true that the veil was torn.” Again, look to Hebrews to consider the comparison between the old and new covenant. Under Mosaic law (See Exodus and Leviticus), sins cannot be forgiven, only shifted onto a scapegoat. Under Mosaic law, only our bodies can be cleansed, not our hearts and spirits. Under Mosaic law, only the High Priest can enter God’s presence—and only that once a year and after extensive procedures. After these preparations, he would enter the Holy of Holies, the Most Holy Place—into God’s presence—which was separated in the tabernacle from the Holy Place by a veil. But we are no longer separated from God’s presence or restricted by regulations and procedures. Under Mosaic law, we cannot meet that deep, inner need. But under Christ’s sacrifice? Under Christ’s sacrifice we are washed in His blood regardless of Mosaic law. When He gave up His spirit, the veil that separated the people from God’s presence was torn and we were given all-access to God, 24/7 with our own personal Intercessor who sits at His right hand.

Grace. Grace isn’t restricted to a religious procedure. It isn’t only attainable through a High Priest or an animal sacrifice (or in our modern-day equivalents—the “religion” referred to in this song vs a personal relationship with our Savior and Father). Grace isn’t bestowed by “what I think that I gotta do.” It isn’t earned. Christ already won the battle, the victory. Grace is given through “what He’s already done.” Furthermore, we don’t have to be “perfect” or have “put together, pretty words” to receive the gift of Christ’s salvation. We don’t have to be polished and “spend our lives trying to keep all the rules” in order to “be washed in His blood.” Keeping the rules won’t save us. We can come as we are and He will forgive us. When we confess and repent, when we invite Christ into our hearts, that’s when we get grace. And until we do that, no actions matter (and none keep us from His reach). After that, yeah, we need to bear fruit and learn to bear His image. But we can’t do anything until we first come to Christ. We can’t earn grace. We just can’t.

No regulations are necessary. And, just like you see people settling for mediocrity, I see people “turning faith into a show.” I rely on my church, but my church isn’t a building. It isn’t a sermon. It isn’t even a Sunday. I rest in Christ and His body. I don’t need anything—not a place, not an action, not a person, not an outdated covenant or a set of rules—to receive His gift, His real love, His relationship. And I don’t need people checking off boxes to tell me that I have to earn grace or live my life the way they think I need to. And I certainly don’t need them telling me I have to be perfect. The only way I achieve any form of perfection is through the accreditation of Christ’s righteousness through His triumph, His atonement, His sacrifice. Just going through the motions isn’t enough. It’s not satisfying to simply check boxes. That won’t meet our need.

She isn’t disparaging doing what’s right or being image bearers of Christ. She’s disparaging the ingenuity of religion and regulation without raw relationship. Mosaic law oppresses us while Christ’s grace frees us. And it is in that freedom that we desire to live for God rather than being forced to pretend that we do.

Okay, I know that was a long post. Eep! But, that discussion has been on my mind and this is Thoughts on Thursdays, so…here are my thoughts. What do you guys think? Where do you stand on music like this? Or even contemporary music and artists in general? I’d love to continue the conversation below!

Love always,
Coralie

The Motions Matthew West