After writing the previous post about "When My Time Comes," I starting thinking about a few other songs I love that seem to have a lot of deep significance and how they relate to the human condition. I specifically love songs that tell elaborate stories--as narratives are, in my opinion, the greatest way to learn something about the world and reality. Thus, I turn to one of my favorite songs, by Blitzen Trapper, called "Furr." If you haven't heard it, click here and read along with the lyrics below:
Yeah, when I was only seventeen
I could hear the angels whispering
So I drove into the woods
And wandered aimlessly about
Until I heard my mother shouting through the fog
It turned out to be the howling of a dog
Or a wolf, to be exact
The sound sent shivers down my back
But I was drawn into the pack and before long
They allowed me to join in and sing their song
So from the cliffs and highest hills
Yeah, we would gladly get our fill
Howling endlessly and shrilly at the dawn
And I lost the taste for judging right from wrong
For my flesh had turned to fur
Yeah, and my thoughts they surely were
Turned to instinct and obedience to God
You can wear your fur
Like a river on fire
But you'd better be sure
If you're making God a liar
I'm a rattlesnake, babe,
I'm like fuel on fire
So if you're get made
Don't be afraid of what you've learned
On the day that I turned 23
I was curled up underneath a dogwood tree
When suddenly a girl
Her skin the color of a pearl
She wandered aimlessly, but she didn't seem to see
She was listening for the angels just like me
So I stood and looked about
I brushed the leaves off of my snout
And then I heard my mother shouting through the trees
You should have seen that girl go shaky at the knees
So I took her by the arm
We settled down upon a farm
And raised our children up as gently as you please
And now my fur has turned to skin
And I've been quickly ushered in
To a world that, I confess, I do not know
But I still dream of running careless through the snow
Through the howling that blow
Across the ancient distant flow
To fill our bodies up like water till we know
Like a river on fire
But you'd better be sure
If you're making God a liar
I'm a rattlesnake, babe,
I'm like fuel on fire
So if you're get made
Don't be afraid of what you've learned
The song uses some incredible imagery and metaphors to describe the process of a young man growing up. When he was only seventeen years old, he began to hear the call of the wild, of living a life drastically different from the one he's been in growing up (I could hear the angels whispering / So I drove into the woods). His life has probably been pretty sheltered up until this point, and once entering the wild, he heard his mother shouting through the fog, a sound he thinks is a desperate plea from his parents to come back to the world of safety that he's known. But it wasn't his mother he heard calling, it turned out to be the howling of a dog / or a wolf, to be exact. It was the call of the wild, urging him to come into its fold. And it's a thought that scares and excites him at the same time (the sound sent shivers down my back). A world he's never known, possibly a world filled with drugs, sex, hedonistic pleasures, and it's calling him to join, and before long he was drawn into the pack, and they allowed me to join in and sing their song.
So now, he's living a life doing whatever he pleases, a world where they would gladly get our fill / howling endlessly and shrilly at dawn (suggesting even further that this world is a world lived in darkness, hating the sight of the dawn each morning). And in this life, he's lost the taste for judging right from wrong. He's become like an animal, like a wolf who's flesh had turned to fur.
At this point in the story, however, it seems he's gotten to a point where living his life is about survival. The point of living like a wolf where his thoughts they surely were / turned to instinct and obedience to God indicates that he no longer has control over his life, that he's simply submitting to instinct to survive in the wild, and relying on some instinct and blind obedience to what he thinks is God.
But now, a dissonance arises in his perceived nature of living as a wolf does entirely and simply wearing the fur of a wolf. The narrator says You can wear your fur / like a river on fire / but you'd better be sure / if you're making God a liar. The narrator seems to be suggesting that he isn't truly living like a wolf does in the wild, for the wolf lives off of instinct and the need for survival, but he has twisted that instinct and obedience to God, wearing the fur like a river on fire. He's taken something good and set in on fire, and in the process made God a liar. The true nature of a wolf relies on this instinct and obedience to God, but he has instead taken on the likeness of a wolf to live a life of recklessness. He has instead turned into a rattlesnake, and is like fuel on a fire. He's out of control. The narrator then offers a piece of advice/wisdom: If you're going to choose this path and become like a wolf, don't be afraid of what you learn along the way. Because inevitably, he will make choices, under the guise of instinct and obedience, that will change his life for the worse. But in all those choices, he should learn from them.
The second half of the song is a redemption for him. He's lived in this life for five years, until the age of twenty-three, and he's worn out, curled underneath a dogwood tree. Suddenly, a girl comes that shakes him out of his funk. A girl who was is standing at the very same starting point he was five years previous. A girl who wandered aimlessly and was listening for the angels just like me. He sees her, and perhaps through an act of compassion for her, he stands up in his stupor, and brushed the leaves off of my snout, and they both hear that familiar call that sounds like his mother, but is probably that same call of the wolves he previously heard. Her response to that call was to go shaky at the knees.
His compassion for her causes him to take her by the arm, and settle down upon a farm / and raise our children up as gently as you please. She has helped him to see, perhaps by her own fear, the same fear that turned into curiosity and led him to the wolves, that life didn't have to be lived in such a way, and that they could both escape it and live a gentle life.
With that, his fur has turned to skin, and he's ushered into the world of adulthood, one that he's terrified of and doesn't know or understand. And throughout that confusing world, he often still dreams of running careless through the snow, to a life without responsibility, a selfish life, one that requires no thought of anyone else. And while it is appealing, it's a life he cannot go back to. But it's not a life he regrets. No, in fact, while it was reckless, it's still a life in which he learned from. A life full of mistakes that has shaped the life he lives in the real world.
Who among us hasn't felt like this young man did during some point in his life? I imagine many of us have also walked the same path he did, through rebellion from what we have known our entire lives because we weren't ready to accept that this is how one should live. And the way of the world is appealing. It seems easy, it seems fun, the recklessness of it is appetizing. And we often take it too far because adulthood seems too difficult, and this way seems far easier.
From my Christian worldview, I can't help but be reminded of Luke 15 and the Prodigal Son. He too left a life of security and stability under his Father and heeded the call of the wild, entering a world of recklessness that felt right. And eventually, when the fun ran out, he began to rely on "instinct and obedience to God." Because he was trying to survive a world full of pain. He was trying to survive the abyss. He was wearing fur when he wasn't meant to. And his way of life was making God a liar. But while the Son didn't have a girl to bring him out of the abyss, he still came back and was welcomed with open arms back to his Father.
It's so clear from the story told by Jesus in Luke 15 that each has their own struggle, and they are often drastically different. The Younger Son, wanting to live the lifestyle of the world, had to find out the hard way that a life of hedonistic pleasures leads to utter desolation and depression. The Elder Son thought he had the world figured out and attempted to live a righteous lifestyle that couldn't be rejected from the Father, but it in the end, it was the Elder Son who was rejected by the Father for thinking he had all the answers and feeling he deserved to be blessed by him.
May we never believe that we have all the answers. Because we quite simply do not. Unlike the Elder Son, we need to have doubt. We need to have questions. Because a faith without those things isn't faith. Faith isn't the blind acceptance of something that has been passed on to us. It's the careful consideration of what we know mixed with the questions we have that represent our faith as a whole. If faith was entirely known it wouldn't be faith, it would be absolute certainty. And while I certainly don't condone the dangerous lifestyle the Younger Son embarked upon, he ultimately was able to see his need for redemption and forgiveness from his father. The Elder Son, who was convinced he had it figured out, and never considered that there was a world outside his own worldview, was ultimately condemned for his house-of-cards faith. A faith that was insecure and untested, and was easily shaken. Blessed be the ones who have seen the world and made mistakes but recognized their dependence on the father for their redemption. Because we are all broken, whether we choose to recognize it or not.
This song clearly depicts the story of the Younger Son in Luke 15. And I believe so many of us today fall into the same issues and problems that he did. But what's important is that we learn from those things, and not regret them--because all those mistakes we've made in the past, if we've returned to the kingdom, have ultimately lead us back to the Father. It's so important for us to learn from our past failings, otherwise, how would we grow as a person? How do we make that transition from childhood to adulthood? We must recognize our shortcomings and failings and rely on the grace of God to make our lives worth living now. Otherwise, we will be just like the young man in this song, except we won't recognize the girl that has come to save us. Or more importantly, we won't recognize the God that has come to save us. And how tragic that would be, to continue in a life full of despair and recklessness, when hope is waiting at the door of our hearts, if only we would open that door and accept it.
"While he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was moved with compassion. His father ran to him, hugged him, and kissed him. Then his son said, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I no longer deserve to be called your son.' But the father said to his servants, 'Quickly, bring out the best robe and put it on him! Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet! Fetch the fattened calf and slaughter it. We must celebrate with feasting because this son of mine was dead and has come back to life! He was lost and is found!' And they began to celebrate."
--Luke 15: 20-24 (CEB)
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