Despite the ritualization of clerical back patting, the male-only costumed processions, the empty homily focusing primarily on the “anniversary” of the priesthood, the pretentious performance choir, the awkward and nervous ciborium spillage, and the dazzling and distracting presence of a principal celebrant dressed up like Serpentor, even a Holy Thursday liturgy that offends in these ways manages to mediate Holy Mystery because eventually, finally, it gets around to explicitly remembering the story of the executed Friend of the Poor who still comes to us as food.

[Originally published at Rock and Theology]

For the last couple of years, I have wanted to do some reflection on the practice of songwriting and its connection to the traditional Lenten challenge to grow in one’s “prayer life.” In the course of reflecting on songwriting and/as spiritual practice, it struck me that while there is quite a bit of reflection on rock performance and the analysis of finished songs in discussions of popular music and theology, there seems to be a lack of attention on the practice of songwriting, particularly as it takes place in an “individual” or “personal” mode.

One recent exception is the work of John McClure who has reflected on “song-making” as a source of insight for theological practice. Some of this work touches on what is happening in the songwriter when she is writing a song. McClure writes,

[S]ongwriters are keenly aware that their craft is cathartic, educative, and integrative in relation to their own lives. Writing in and out of a tradition carries with it certain ways of externalizing and dealing with one’s experiences and ideas. Songwriting, therefore, involves a constant reeducation and maturation of the whole person within certain traditions of thought and practice. Writing changes the artist, providing healing, perspective, vision, and qualities of good judgment. Most good songwriters are aware that songs are doing this to them, and how songs are doing it. (John S. McClure, Mashup Religion: Pop Music and Theological Invention [Waco, TX: Baylor UP, 2011], 21)

From now until Epiphany, pay what you want for any or all of my three Xmas releases, and all of the proceeds will go to the Catholic Peace Fellowship.

From their website: “The purpose of the CPF is to support Catholic conscientious objectors through education, counseling, and advocacy. Guided by a personalist philosophy, the CPF seeks to resist war by helping those who choose not to participate in it, one person at a time.”

If you’re not really into Catholicism, even of the lefty variety, but are into peacemaking, you might still be into this considering well over half of the members of the U.S. military are Roman Catholic. You can still take the records for free too, and you can still also not listen to them at all.

Friends,

While beginning work on my new full length Nonsubstantiation, I thought of you, and I thought of this season, and I thought maybe you could use a gift. What do you give someone who already has a bunch of Iafrate Xmas musics? More Iafrate Xmas musics. Here for you is a digital two-song single tho in the style of the old physical two-sided singles. The first track is “The Friendly Beasts,” a version to add to a long legacy of versions such like The Louvin Brothers, Johnny Cash, and The Sufjan. The second track is an instrumental version of the hymn “Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence” with interesting instruments. The songs were recorded this past week by David Klug. Aaron Crothers (Good Sport, The Emergency) played the bass guitar. And Karri Roberts provided the beautiful peacock painting for the cover. The single is free to download and it is available here. Enjoy it. A bunch of original songs from the same session are on the way.

Secular Music and Sacred Theology, edited by Tom Beaudoin, is an outgrowth of the Rock and Theology project, sponsored by Liturgical Press. It includes an essay of mine “More Than Music: Notes on ‘Staying Punk’ in the Church and in Theology,” and it’s out in May from Liturgical Press.