Month: March 2026

What We Believe About Everything

Last week, the new Morrissey album, Make-Up Is A Lie, was released (or “dropped” as the kids may still say). It’s really, really awful. If you have been with me for more than one second, you know how much that pains me to say. But this isn’t a review.

I’m instead wondering about the head- (and heart-) space of an artist. 

When a good-to-great artist (in this case, a transcendent artist) completes and readies (what we consider) a subpar album for release, does he/she feel: 1. This is awesome, maybe the best material I’ve ever done. Now, of course, he/she might be wrong, or we are. 2. This may not be my best work, but it’s totally solid. At this point in my life/career, with much success, this is another excellent work. 3. This isn’t great, but the media/label/public pressure is heavy and something new needs to come out NOW. It might be fine. I hope it’s better than I fear. Or, I suppose there is a 4th: This is a stinker, but there are so many people out there who will buy it no matter what. Who cares about them? Money is money. 

The specific is this album, but the real question is, how do we see each other? What is in the soul of a human being? Are we ultimately lacking integrity and looking to use each other as means to our own selfish end? Or do we genuinely mean well, even if things don’t turn out the way we hope? Can we be trusted? Who are we? 

And, since I see most things through a spiritual prism, when a religious person or group uses Scripture to beat up another person, shame and ostracize them, when they use verses as excuse for violence and hate, is this because they are simply looking for an excuse for violence and hate? Or, at the point of inception, do they truly believe that they are doing God’s/god’s will? Is it from their authentic faithfulness that their actions flow? Or is it spiritual abuse and garden variety manipulation, the convenient means that justify their own ends? 

I know, it’s just an album, and maybe something so trivial shouldn’t have any connection to our deepest held values. Or maybe what we believe about one thing is what we believe about everything. Or maybe that’s how it should be. I’m not sure that this album matters at all, but I am absolutely certain our perspective of every human being matters, and maybe they’re related.

I think he thinks it’s great. Maybe it’s not The Queen Is Dead, but he’s not that guy anymore. He’s this one, and he believes Make-Up Is A Lie is an A+. He’s not a bad guy, not a schemer, not a thief, not a guy with bad character, he just happens to be wrong. I’m not out on the old stuff, or the next album (if we’re lucky enough to get another one). I still trust him, and still love him the same, and will still wake up early to listen to his new songs. 

I have the honor of walking with many people, in pretty close proximity, sometimes at the worst moments of their lives. And those people can say some awful things. They/We can be rude, dismissive, belittling, condescending, and just plain nasty, at times. When that happens – when they drop the interpersonal equivalent of Make-Up Is A Lie, what do we do with that? Are they/we simply the last thing (or the worst) we’ve done? I don’t think so. That person who hurt us, maybe they’re also not bad guys, or schemers, maybe they don’t have bad character…Maybe they’re hurting, or maybe they’re just human. Maybe they’re made in the image of God, wholly loved, just like we are.

Now that I think about it, they probably are related.

First Cousin Once Removed

At some point during many of the holidays my family and I celebrate together, the conversation will turn to 1st, 2nd, 3rd cousins, once or twice removed, and what any of those terms mean. We never remember, so we discuss it more often than you’d guess. Incidentally, I am ok with this, because it’s hilarious. We just wait for it to come up.

Anyway, last weekend, I went to my first dance competition. No, I wasn’t dancing (the way I worded that last sentence sounded like maybe I was). My first cousin once removed by marriage (The Angel’s cousin’s daughter) was dancing. She is 14 and has been dancing for most of her life. I had no idea what to expect, but I absolutely knew I’d write about whatever I experienced in this week’s post.

Not only did I not know what a dance competition looks like, I’d never seen her dance before, so I didn’t know what her particular dancing looks like, either.

The event was in a MASSIVE auditorium. Each competitor had a certain time (a minute or 2) to do whatever it was they would do, to music played at a pretty mind-numbing volume. (I’m not sure if you’re familiar, but there are lots of different styles of dance. I do know this, because I watched the TV show So You Think You Can Dance.) The kids in their very sparkly spandex outfits

[Actually, that’s not exactly true. They wore very sparkly tiny spandex super suits OR they wore white flowy sun dresses, with little in between. Anyway]

took the stage and performed, in numbered order. Some were awesome and some were good, none made me wish I wasn’t there. But my first cousin once removed by marriage was clearly the best. I would say by a mile, but there’s a chance that I am slightly biased, but only slightly. Objectively, she was clearly the best, maybe not by a mile, but for sure a good hundred yards. She was graceful, controlled, both subtle and overwhelming, and I found myself overcome with emotion. Beautiful things crack open my heart like eggs and flow all over, and her performances (1 jazz and 1 contemporary) were staggeringly beautiful. I thought about her life, her commitment and passion for this art/sport (it’s both, right? Elite athleticism combined with wild creativity and expression to create its own category), how so much of her resources – money, time, energy – and focus went into these few minutes. The hours and hours of physical practice are obvious, but what is staying with me are the countless hours of what is not so obvious. What she eats, how she works out, the many things she must have said no to, all in service of her one big yes, the foundation upon which she built the rest of her life.

[It might not be the foundation for her, she’s remarkably well rounded, maybe it’s not even what she would say is the most important thing to her…but you get the point.]

So, later, on the way home, I thought about me. I thought about my one big yes, the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and my commitment to Him. She was willing to offer so much of her life to a discipline, to a love, have I? With everything she does, how she walks, carries herself, she looks to the entire world like a dancer… What do I look like? Do I look like a walking, talking, loving, follower of Christ? From head to toe, morning to night, the food I eat, what I listen to and watch, is it all in service of this identity? Am I offering the best of me? Am I offering all of me?

The truth is…well, maybe we can answer that another time. But last Saturday, that building was a church, and her dancing was a sermon, asking questions that aren’t so easily answered. I can’t tell if I’m more impressed by her dancing or her preaching, but I’ll tell you, it was an honor to sit under this 14 year old’s teaching & learn about life, love, faith, and devotion in a brand new way.