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My Mother's Hymn Book
My Mother's Hymn Book by Johnny Cash EMI CMG Distribution $13.99 |
Certain bedrock human impulses can be denied or ignored, but never rooted out. One is the drive to honor our heroes through works of art. The more radical Protestant Reformers fought this impulse tooth and nail, burning icons and smashing sculptures of Christ and the saints. Within a few generations, however, their followers were painting portraits and erecting statues to honor the beloved Reformers. Eventually, even iconoclasts become icons.
Another is the impulse to bless objects or substances and set them apart as sacred. The Baptists I grew up with were especially suspicious of this one. I knew one Baptist who, on his first visit to a Catholic church, spit in the holy water. He announc-ed to his horrified hosts, "That water's no more holy than my spit."
But even Baptists have their holy objects. Try burning an American flag in front of them. On a recent visit to a hardware store, I was struck by a sign instructing customers on how to properly care for the American flag: never let it touch the ground; fold it ceremonially; don't throw it in the trash. The instructions were very similar to those that Catholics or Orthodox give for the treatment of blessed icons and liturgical objects.
While low-church Protestants often attempt to suppress basic human longings, more sacramental Christians strive to redeem them. One of those longings we all feel is for a Mother. Not just an earthly mother, but something beyond—akin to the way God the Father is beyond our earthly father, yet reflected in him to a greater or lesser degree.
On the one hand, this longing for a cosmic Mother can lead to goddess worship. On the other, Catholics and Orthodox find its redemption and fulfillment in the Virgin Mary. Protestants try to suppress the longing altogether. But, though they banish this impulse from their churches, it springs up elsewhere.
Take, for example, country music.
If you want to hear the soul of American evangelical Protestantism, listen to country music. All of the country greats—Johnny Cash, Merle Haggard, George Jones, Willie Nelson—have recorded Gospel albums. At one time nearly every country album included at least one hymn, and artists such as Brad Paisley continue that tradition today.
The Ryman Auditorium in Nashville, home of the Grand Ole Opry, has been called the "Church of Country Music." Whatever denomination it is, it sure ain't Catholic or Orthodox. Country music is Protestant to the core.
The recently departed Johnny Cash gave this summary of the genre's recurring themes:
I love songs about horses, railroads, land, judgment day, family, hard times, whiskey, courtship, marriage, adultery, separation, murder, war, prison, rambling, damnation, home, salvation, death, pride, humor, piety, rebellion, patriotism, larceny, determination, tragedy, rowdiness, heartbreak, and love. And Mother. And God.
It's no accident that Cash put Mother second only to God. In country music, that's exactly where Mama stands.
Indeed, Cash's CD, My Mother's Hymn Book, which was included in the five-disc box Unearthed, released by American Recordings/Lost Highway late last year to great acclaim, has just been released on its own.
In Catholic and Orthodox iconography, that's also exactly where Mary stands. She's the Queen of Heaven. Most Protestants would shudder at this title, and object to any talk of the Virgin Mary's immaculate purity. In my Baptist church, it was often repeated that Mary was a sinner no different from the rest of us.
But what about Mama? As any resident of the Bluegrass Belt can tell you, Mama is the very model of saintliness. Mama's conduct in this life is beyond reproach, and when she passes over Jordan, she holds a place of honor on high. "Up there above," George Jones sings, "She's the prettiest flower in God's garden of love."
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