Truth isn't trendy.
The proclamation of truth isn't to concern itself with fads.
That's why I don't get into pastoral sermon series that focus on Hollywood movies and how they reflect gospel themes. It's why I don't understand the desire of believers to immediately promote high-profile converts into positions where they speak on behalf of the church.
Don't get me wrong, I'm more than elated and hopeful when I see those so entrenched in our godless culture be delivered from it all. All I mean is that Scripture speaks for us as believers, not Kanye West, Kat von D, or recent "Only Fans" convert Nala Ray.
Our distraction by, and deference to, the fickle winds of pop culture does precious little to add to the weighty significance of our testimony as Christians. What we believe and proclaim has outlasted and will continue outlasting even the most famous and fortunate figures of our fleeting era here on earth.
Rather than permitting social trends to dictate the expression of our faith, the precise opposite should be true. It's not that we avoid speaking about the spirit of the age. To the contrary, Christians should be outing it and condemning its inadequacies. What we must guard against is reinterpreting or explaining our beliefs through the lens of culture.
For instance, the entire Western world seems to be talking about Taylor Swift these days. What we shouldn't do as believers (like the Gospel Coalition inexplicably did previously) is attempt to preach the gospel through Swift. What we should do is preach the gospel to Swift and to those who are enamored by and idolize her.
I'm the furthest thing from a Swiftie as you're going to find. I can identify much of her music (it largely all sounds the same, so that helps), but don't turn to me for any explanation as to why she's suddenly so popular and influential.
Last Friday, Swift released her newest album, "The Tortured Poets Department," and people began noticing a theme throughout the album:
Let's look at that last song, which appears to enunciate more succinctly and effectively the depressing state of what the world offers than anything I've seen in quite some time. Check out this profound excerpt of lyrical genius from her song titled, "But Daddy I Love Him:"
I forget how the West was won
I forget if this was ever fun
I just learned these people only raise you
To cage you
Sarahs and Hannahs in their Sunday best
Clutchin' their pearls, sighing, "What a mess"
I just learned these people try and save you
'Cause they hate you
...
God save the most judgmental creeps
Who say they want what's best for me
Sanctimoniously performing soliloquies I'll never see
Thinkin' it can change the beat
Of my heart when he touches me
And counteract the chemistry
And undo the destiny
You ain't gotta pray for me
Me and my wild boy and all of this wild joy
If all you want is gray for me
Then it's just white noise, and it's just my choice
So yeah, that's pretty much the anthem of Satan.
Well, the anthem Satan would have us humans sing anyway. "I'm my own god, I make my own rules, I follow my heart, I get what I want."
Cool, Taylor, cool.
I'm no scholar on modern lyric writing for pop stars, nor do I know (or much care) what percentage of Swift's music she actually writes herself. But having told interviewers that she "grew up Christian" in the culturally conservative part of the country called the Bible belt, these lyrics are fairly straightforward.
They seem to flow from the pen of a young woman whose pride dictates her concept of right and wrong; one who views any type of moral censure or disagreement as a hateful attack rather than a loving rebuke. And while I admittedly don't know the experiences that have shaped the attitude animating those lyrics, here's what I do know.
I know that both Sarah and Hannah are models of biblical obedience. Despite her sin in failing to wait on God's promise to give her a son, Sarah emerged a titan of Old Testament faith who became the miraculous mother of the lineage that brought us the Savior of mankind. Meanwhile, Hannah was a beacon of faithfulness herself. She was so diligent in her humility and devotion to God, that He also rewarded her prayers to have a son. She dedicated that son, Samuel, to the work of the Lord. God raised Samuel up to be a powerful prophet and judge over His people.
Swift may regard their namesakes as "pearl-clutchers," just as she may assign impure, hateful motives to those who would question or condemn her worldliness. But young women in America and around the world would be well served to follow in the footsteps of Hannah rather than anyone whose moral compass is calibrated by a hormone-driven heartbeat that fluctuates in response to touches from her man of the moment. It is, after all, "how the West was won."
What Christ offers is so much more than the "gray" characteristics Swift assigns to His pathway of righteousness. And what her worldliness delivers is so much less than what she advertises.
But what else should we expect?
