Today I wish to introduce you to Derek Webb.
I believe that the Spice Girls are everything Point Of Grace ever wished they could be in life, and then some. In all honesty, the vast majority of Christian music (and I used to love Christian music back in happier times when I was still a young hot-blooded evangelical) is something that I would not listen to unless I wanted to punish myself for some terrible sin, to punish myself disgustingly. Derek Webb is one of a few–a very few–Christian musicians whom I can legitimately listen to when I do not wish to punish myself.
Some of you may recognize Derek Webb. Once upon a time he was the frontman for Caedmon’s Call, then a popular Christian band. He has since gone solo and has been performing solo for several years now.
Webb has long been on the outs with the CCM establishment, which is no small part of his appeal (from my perspective, at least). Back in the early days, evangelicals of a Neo-Reformed Calvinistic bent fawned over Webb because he was a good-looking, masterful crooner who could sing the TULIP like a boss, though he did ruffle some feathers by calling the Church a whore on his solo debut album. (TULIP is an acronym in which each of the five letters represents one of the major theological emphases of Neo-Reformed Calvinism, the new black in evangelicalism.) But when he started dropping lyrics like “Don’t teach me about politics and government, just tell me who to vote for / Don’t teach me about truth and beauty, just label my music / …Don’t teach me moderation and liberty, I prefer a shot of grape juice” (from his 2006 album Mockingbird), that hit the powers-that-be in CCM and much of his fan base (back then) uncomfortably close to home. His 2009 album Stockholm Syndrome was even edgier and more provocative as he took up issues and positions long considered out of bounds within the evangelical universe.
These days, Webb is squarely in the post-evangelical camp, and likely the post-Christian camp as well. In recent years he has undergone an excruciating spiritual journey involving a thorough housecleaning of much that he had previously accepted; his 2017 album Fingers Crossed chronicles the journey and the associated grieving process. He hosts a podcast called The Airing of Grief in which listeners can share their post-evangelical stories by calling or writing in. The album and the podcast cover many themes of post-evangelical life, such as grieving the loss of certainties you had held for much of your prior life, finding yourself a stranger to you because of all the changes that have happened inside of you, living in that strange space between who you once were and who you are becoming, and finding community and belonging and even worship in unexpected places, including places which we as evangelicals have long been taught to regard with deep-seated fear, suspicion and distrust.
As I have said before in this space, the “post-evangelical wilderness” is not some fanciful construct created by young punk bloggers living in their parents’ basements with nothing better to do with their lives than sit around in front of a computer screen all day and write whatever strikes their fancy. It is a real place, inhabited by real people with real stories. It is a space where we are, to borrow a quote from Rachel Held Evans which I have used before, “caught between who we once were and who we will be, the ghosts of past certainties gripping at our ankles”.
It would not surprise me to see some evangelicals who have followed Derek Webb’s trajectory over the years count him as no longer one of us and no longer Christian. John Piper did essentially the same thing to Rob Bell when Bell published that book back in 2011. But for those of you out there who, like me, survey the evangelical landscape and find yourself a homeless stranger in a tradition that has formed you spiritually for much (if not all) of your life to this point, know that in Derek Webb you can/will find a faithful companion for your journey.