“…the shadows of deeds that were never done…” Theodore Roosevelt, 1916
When the world spins down to its end – a possibility that seems more likely with every day this version of humanity careens along its broken path – each of us, from Adam and Eve to everyone living in that final day, will face judgement. That seems a scary prospect. I certainly don’t want to stand before the throne of our Creator and have Him unfold to the entirety of humankind all I have done wrong. I mean, how many of the Top Ten (that’s the Ten Commandments – you know, Moses, stone tablets, the Book of Exodus – for the uninitiated) have you broken? Murder? Maybe not, but abortion is murder and how many accomplices to that are there in the world today? But what about honoring your father and mother? or lying? or stealing? or choosing a way other than God’s way? You know what your list includes – all the things you tried to keep secret because you know they were wrong. And that means this judgement thing is going to take forever, not that that is a real concern of God’s. I’m not a really bad guy or anything, but even my list would take a good, long time. Imagine the list for the Hitler’s of the world. Any way you look at it, it’s not a pretty picture for any of us.
But, it turns out it’s even worse than we thought. It seems God is not interested in what we did wrong. He knows we’re all screw-ups and that’s what forgiveness is for anyway. No, God is more interested in what we didn’t do right. If we had chosen what God wanted us to do instead of what we wanted to do, what would our lives look like? Would we still have broken our share of the Top Ten? Probably, but what about the lives we would have touched, the hearts we would have changed, the people we would have become? Perhaps he’ll show us what the lives of all those babies we aborted would have been. The Einsteins, the Mozarts, the mothers and fathers.
It makes me weep to wonder upon what I have not done. For fifteen years during the most productive time of my youth I turned from what God wanted. Even now, as I struggle and still fail to follow His path for me, the immense possibilities of those years can not be recovered. That loss is what our judgment will reveal to us. It recalls to mind the quote from Theodore Roosevelt that opens this commentary. Our judgment is not a list of the things we did wrong, it is “the shadows of deeds that were never done.”
That Hurry Home Look In Your Eyes
Many of you don’t know who The Jayhawks are. But you should.
I was introduced to The Jayhawks in 2000 on my local public radio station. Back then, National Public Radio was on during drive times, but the rest of the programming was mostly local DJs playing local and independent music. Sad to say, most of the programming is political in nature now, and music shows are relegated to the wee hours. I’ve quit listening.
But in the early 2000s, I was introduced to a number of bands I would never have heard on mainstream FM radio. Kim Richey, Allison Moorer, Uncle Tupelo, and The Jayhawks. I actually heard Lucinda Williams for the first time on public radio, before her Car Wheels on a Gravel Road album became a success. Uncle Tupelo went on to become two bands you probably have heard of, Jeff Tweety formed Wilco and Son Volt became Jay Farrar’s band. But The Jayhawks, Kim Richey, Cross Canadian Ragweed and many others were lost in a genre that is fast disappearing and is often relegated to “Country” stations. In fact, this rock music is called “alt-country” now and it doesn’t feel comfortable in today’s country or rock radio formats.
It seems any modern rock bands with a folk or southern influence are tagged “country” today. There’s something not right about that, mainly because I don’t listen to Country music. Country means George Jones or Merle Haggard or Loretta Lynn to me and with few exceptions that doesn’t hold much interest. Country is big, though, and getting bigger. And it is swallowing up bands like The Jayhawks. Heck, the only place you can hear The Eagles today is on country radio – The Eagles’ latest album even won some “Best Country Album” awards. Thirty years ago, these alt-country bands would have been the heirs of The Byrds and The Eagles, The Mamas & The Papas and Carole King. Today they are lost in a musical in-between land where they can not find the mass audience they deserve.
The Jayhawks are a prime example of this unfortunate state of affairs. They have produced six records, including Mockingbird Time, released in 2011 – eight years after their previous studio album, Rainy Day Music. They are not a household name even though albums like 1992’s Hollywood Town Hall and 2000’s Smile are classics comparable to anything from The Eagles or Jackson Browne. Certainly better than anything the more poplar Wilco or Drive-by Truckers have produced.
But most of you don’t know who The Jayhawks are. Maybe you should.
[ A list of Jayhawks songs is in the My Playlist section. The selections include songs from all 6 of their studio albums. These are simply my favorites across The Jayhawks' career. Many of their more popular songs and/or songs they tend to do live are not here – songs like A Break in the Clouds (that includes the line that is the headline for this commentary) from Smile or Wichita and Martin's Song from Hollywood Town Hall or Miss Williams' Guitar from Tomorrow the Green Grass. Those are all great songs, too, and you should listen to them all. ]