“Because you cannot walk with the holy, if you’re just a halfway decent man / I don’t pretend that I’m a mastermind with a genius marketing plan / I’m trying to tap into some wisdom, even a little drop will do / I want to rid my heart of envy and cleanse my soul of rage before I’m through”—from “Wartime Prayers”
Paul Simon is one of those artists, like U2, whose music may be familiar to anyone who has a history with Christian music. Never listened to a Simon and Garfunkel record, or any of Simon’s celebrated solo releases? Okay. But what about “Mrs. Robinson,” a vintage Simon folk ditty once recorded by Charlie Peacock? Or “Bridge Over Troubled Water,” another classic that has practically become a gospel standard, having been recorded by everyone from Michael W. Smith to Johnny Cash.
What’s remarkable is that “Bridge” never actually mentions the name of Jesus Christ—a curious trait for a gospel song. Some, of course, will contend that it isn’t a gospel song; rather, it’s a hymn to vague spirituality that doesn’t offend anyone because it doesn’t actually say anything. Then again, others will argue that the song is a prime example of the transcendent quality that makes Simon’s music so enduring and universally appealing—it’s not afraid to wrestle with big questions of faith and religion, even when Simon doesn’t necessarily know all the answers.
That’s never been as true as it is on Simon’s latest disc, Surprise, which indeed lives up to its title. Simon isn’t necessarily doing anything new here—he sings in his gentle everyman voice and plucks away at his acoustic guitar—but this time there’s a slight change of scenery; Simon’s just doing his thing, but he’s doing it out in front of vast, electronic soundscapes, created by sonic wizard and celebrated producer Brian Eno. Eno’s rich musical backdrops are imaginative and full of twists and turns—they give Simon a perfect environment in which to “sit down … and think about God for a while” (“Everything About It Is a Love Song”).
Simon’s perception of God is likely different from that of his Christian listeners. Like any good veteran of the 1960s folk music scene, he’s had his share of flirtation and experimentation with different belief systems. Simon was born Jewish, and he’s long been associated with various schools of Buddhist thought, but his songs have always included language that suggests a more Western, Judeo-Christian worldview.
And, again, like any old-school folk singer, he’s dabbled in songs with a decidedly political nature. That’s sort of true on Surprise, but he’s not interested in polemics and pulpit-pounding so much as reflecting the uncertainty of life in a fallen world. “How Can You Live in the Northeast?” Simon asks in the song of the same name—”How can you be a Christian? How can you be a Jew? How can you be a Muslim, a Buddhist, a Hindu? How can you?” In a world torn apart by cultural wars and religious turmoil, these questions seem like as good a place as any to begin the process of spiritual seeking.
Simon doesn’t necessarily align himself with any one of these religions in particular, but one thing is clear: the man is no deist. He repeatedly affirms the existence of a God who loves his children, and who cares enough to intervene in our lives. “Who’s gonna love you when your looks are gone?” he asks in “Outrageous,” repeating the question several times before offering the answer: “God will, like He waters the flowers on your windowsill.” By contrast, Simon finds little peace in the good works of human beings: “Acts of kindness, like breadcrumbs in a fairytale forest / Lead us past dangers as light melts the darkness / But I don’t believe, and I’m not consoled.”
Okay, so maybe he’s still a skeptic, and maybe he doesn’t have all the answers. But he has the humility to admit it, and to appeal to a higher power—perhaps that is the first step in the right direction. Simon knows he’s not good enough to save himself: “You cannot walk with the holy / if you’re just a halfway decent man,” he sings in “Wartime Prayers,” the album’s most memorable and inspiring song. What comes a few lines later is the album’s best answer to all the questions it asks, and a source of solace for anyone moved by the record’s depiction of uncertain times. “To drive away despair,” Simon sings, he “says a wartime prayer.” Amen.
Unless specified clearly, we are not implying whether this artist is or is not a Christian. The views expressed are simply the author’s. For a more complete description of our Glimpses of God articles, click here
