Since my last post about U2’s song “moment of surrender”, there’s been a number of verses that provoke me, but the line “vision over visibility” has really stuck with me.
Is there something that you see, that others can’t? A vision, a reality of what could be, that others don’t seem to ‘get’?
It looks dark and murky but you’ve got this strong gut-level hunch it’s a direction you ought to be going in?
Please keeping moving forward.
Seize it, for the love of God. Do something about it.
We’ll always be working in low-visibility, but vision doesn’t always come.
Take a hold of it and make it into a reality. We need you to help us see it. Our world is filled with too many people with eyes wide shut, working merely with the visible.
That statue waiting to be carved out of that stone block; that word of truth or encouragement that no one else can quite articulate the way you do; that service your community or city desperately needs but knows how to go about it… we need you to help us see the invisible.
Because if you don’t, it might slip away. And worst yet, it might be lost to humanity forever.
“Moment of Surrender” is definitely one of the standout tracks from the latest album. A lot of U2’s recent material seems a bit unfinished and uneven to me, but this one’s just about there. I love the way the vocals kick in, and there’s lots of great lyrics to chew on. I’ll just post the lyrics rather than commenting.
I tied myself with wire To let the horses roam free Playing with the fire Until the fire played with me
The stone was semi-precious We were barely conscious Two souls too smart to be In the realm of certainty Even on our wedding day
We set ourselves on fire Oh God, do not deny her It’s not if I believe in love If love believes in me Oh, believe in me
At the moment of surrender I folded to my knees I did not notice the passers-by And they did not notice me
I’ve been in every black hole At the altar of the dark star My body’s now a begging bowl That’s begging to get back, begging to get back To my heart To the rhythm of my soul To the rhythm of my unconsciousness To the rhythm that yearns To be released from control
I was punching in the numbers at the ATM machine I could see in the reflection A face staring back at me At the moment of surrender Of vision over visibility I did not notice the passers-by And they did not notice me
I was speeding on the subway Through the stations of the cross Every eye looking every other way Counting down ’til the train would stop
At the moment of surrender Of vision of over visibility I did not notice the passers-by And they did not notice me
What do you think? Anything redemptive? Anything that resonates with you?
Without a doubt my favorite U2 album of all time remains Achtung Baby. It’s gritty layers went really well with my early teenage angst years.
A completely underrated song in the Album is Acrobat.
Here’s a snippet:
No, nothing makes sense Nothing seems to fit I know you’d hit out If you only knew who to hit And I’d join the movement If there was one I could believe in Yeah I’d break bread and wine If there was a church I could receive in ‘Cause I need it now
To take the cup To fill it up To drink it slow I can’t let you go I must be an acrobat To talk like this And act like that And you can dream So dream out loud And don’t let the bastards grind you down
As a teenager it had everything to do with hating ‘the system’, and oscillating between not wanting to exist while wanting to belong.
These days the problem’s a bit more internal.
Now I’m part of the church, that has problems receiving people.
Worst yet, I’ve got a preaching gig. And no one talks one way and acts another way more than the preacher. Yes, preacher’s aren’t perfect, and we share our struggles. But that dreaded Book keeps making us call people to Christ-likeness.
Every day I’m confronted by my own hypocrisy. Grace just rubs it in further.
Since the U2 concert last week I’ve been revisiting my love of music in general. I haven’t really listened to the radio in years, and have opted for books and talks during my winding down time.
While I still find it hard to sit down and do nothing but listen to music, there’s still something beautiful about just catching a great riff or a powerful lyric.
I’ve decided I’m going to do a series of posts on some of my personal U2 highlights. I know volumes of books and blogs have already been written on them, but amuse me, won’t you? I’m not sure how long this will go for, or if I’ll move on to some other band/artist. But they’ll do for now.
One lyric that’s stuck with me from the recent album is in the song Stand up Comedy. A friend and I were having lunch a few months back and started talking about the album, and this one same line came to both of our minds.
“be careful Of small men with big ideas”
The interesting thing is we had completely different impressions of the verse. I shared about how it echoed one of my fears of being a person with great visions and weak in character. My buddy Zaya (who’s actually written a few guest posts here) shared about the hope of having powerful ideas even if you’re low on the ladder.
I wonder if the discrepancy had anything to do with our cultural narratives? Myself being Asian, known for mass-production and corner cutting. And Zaya being shaped by an African oppression narrative? I’m not sure, but like the Scriptures, there’s something mysterious when what you’re examining starts looking back at you.
I took my wife to her first U2 concert yesterday. (Confession: Our last concert together was Bon Jovi – filled with 40 year old women in jeans and bandannas – someone gave us free tickets). U2 rocked the house.
I find there’s a phenomenal number of Christians who love U2. My excuse is I was tracking with them long before I encountered Jesus. Sometimes I feel like it’s Christians/Pastors way of holding on to one tiny thread of relevance. My hey-i’m-still-cool card is radiohead, but I’m still stuck on their old stuff and I’m sure there’s a trendier band out there right now.
On the flip-side a more cynical side of me thinks Bono’s aware of his Christian fan-club and laces songs with spirituality just to continue courting the church crowd. Or maybe it really is reflective of his faith journey. Either way they do have some brilliant songs.
What’s it like for 60,000 strangers to be singing amazing grace together in the centre of our city? Bono, his holiness led the crowd and we all gave in. I think someone in the 500 level captured this one. It leads into ‘where the streets have no name’ which is sonically one of my favorites.
Rob Bell’s latest book Drop Like Stars explores the relationship between creativity and suffering.
If you’re familiar with Bell’s sermons, tours, and previous works, it won’t be phenomenally new content. In fact, the book almost stands in defiance of content, as I’m guessing if all the text was put into a Word document it’d be about five pages worth.
It’s really an over-sized coffee-table style book, and it’s visually beautiful. You’re not paying for content but an guided tour on some of Rob Bell’s best thoughts. In typical fashion he shares intriguing off-beat research and stories to draw you in.
Two things I think we can learn from the book. One being that he’s able to convey deeply biblical concepts in a language that anyone could understand. He speaks on very core issues of suffering and creativity, which is something everyone stumbles through in some way or form.
Secondly, I think we can all learn a bit about the packaging. I think it takes serious guts to fill two pages with only three words. Bell really practices the less-is-more paradigm here, and it’ll definitely irk plenty of people who pay for the book.
If you truly believed that less-is-more, how might you be doing things differently?
Photo Credit: paolomargari
