Afterthoughts: Leap of Faith — The Fear of God Podcast

“Afterthoughts” is a Fear of God blog series featuring co-hosts and guests further unpacking thoughts, themes, and ideas that keep them up at night from the conversations and content covered on the show. This entry is by guest and FoG jingle master, Andrew Nelson, and is a follow-up article to this past week’s episode featuring Leap of Faith: William Friedkin on The Exorcist. Enjoy, then, these afterthoughts…

On Faith and Fear And Songwriting

The hair was standing up on the back of my neck.

Adrenaline was pumping through my veins.

I was sinking deeper into my skin as I mumbled prayers under my breath.

And it wouldn’t be stretching the scenario that far if I were to tell you I was watching the scenario unfold from 6 feet above my body.

I wasn’t on a roller coaster.

I wasn’t on a plane getting ready to go skydiving.

I wasn’t watching The Exorcist or some other terrifying film.

No.

There, on a Saturday afternoon in the expansive stone sanctuary, my heart brimming over with shame, I sat in a pew clutching my Rosary, which I had bought at the church gift shop hours before like a tourist because I forgot mine at home.

Fumbling my way through Hail Marys and Our Fathers — which I knew for the most part — occasionally jumbling the prayers together after a while, like when you say a word over and over, losing its meaning.

I was in my early 20s and had converted to Catholicism the past year (which is a long story for another time), and I had just met with the priest at my local parish.

I confessed my sins and the priest said I was forgiven and gave me penance (a short (or lengthy depending on the offense) list of things I had to do to make the forgiveness stick, put simply), but I felt anything but absolved.

The priest at my particular parish wasn’t particularly kind or understanding when it come to the Sacrament of Confession and thus, my soul would generally take a pummeling when I would go through the - what I would call at this point in my journey - motions. These motions would set me right in the eyes of God so I could take communion.

I sat in the pew saying those Hail Marys and those Our Fathers (my penance) like my soul depended on it, because in a sense, at least how I understood God at the time - it did.

And I was afraid. So afraid. Always afraid.

For a God who said “Be not afraid” 365 times (I googled it — feel free to critique my calculations, theologians!), there seems to be a LOT of reasons to be afraid.

Damnation. Separation from God. Eternal Torment.

Yikes.

To process all this scary stuff, I wrote a lot of songs. They were filled with so much shame. So much self-deprecation.

They all amounted to some version of this: God, I am so terrible and such an utter and worthless piece of garbage but somehow you love me and so it’s all okay.

Double Yikes.

I think of that chapter of my life sometimes.

That scared kid (in many respects) who just needed a hug and someone to say “you’re okay,” and “you don’t have to be so afraid of everything.”

I lived with so much fear and was so scared of God. This podcast is called the Fear of God - a different fear to be sure, but for me, I only knew the toxic abusive fear of God for the longest time.

Over the years, I’d deconstruct my faith I held so tightly, then I’d gravitate to a different system out of fear. I did that a few times. But there came a point in the past 3 years where I just sort of, started holding things very loosely. And that’s where I’d say I entered the phase of what I’d coin “Hopeful Agnosticism.”

Which, to be candid, isn’t even the greatest language to describe where I’m at today.

(And I know you’re not reading this to hear “where I’m at.” You’re reading this for afterthoughts - I promise, I’m getting to the tunes shortly, but this is the path there, bear with me, dear reader.)

And as of the writing of this you’re reading, I would say I am someone who is always learning, growing, changing, constructing, deconstructing, and building up again all while trying to be as authentic in every moment as I can be (where are my fellow Enneagram 4s at?).

As for my belief system? I would say I’m comfortable identifying as a person who is loved, who is trying to love others well, and is trying not to lose the capacity to hold existence in a framework of wonder, awe, mystery and mysticism.

And that’s what I try to bring to my songwriting.

William Friedkin says in the documentary Leap of Faith that he approached the making of the Exorcist as a believer, and perhaps I approach songwriting as a believer. Truly, believing that there’s something transcendent in the stirring of the soul when a melody or a lyric can evoke an emotion or a feeling… who knows?

Maybe there’s something holy in that?

I certainly hope so.

And I hope that in reading this, whether some things resonated, or if you felt on board the whole time, or if you tracked with some of it but didn’t arrive at the same conclusions, or however this lands with your spirit - I hope at least you were able to find some sort of stirrings of beauty, or “grace notes” as William Friedkin might say.

And above all else, my hope is that you know you are loved and lovable, beautiful and good.

Though Friedkin says he approached making the film as a believer, he also acknowledges there’s so much he simply just didn’t know - that we as humans just don’t know.

And so I will leave you with a song - written and explored here as a believer, wide eyed and in wonder of a Love bigger and more Beautiful than one can comprehend.

While I don’t fully know 100% if the words are true - I hope with every fabric of my being that they’re true.

I do feel in good company with The Exorcist’s Father Karras, at least, as I imagine him at some point in his faith journey of doubt and despair - perhaps in a scene we aren’t privy to - calling to mind a prayer similar to the man whose child had an unclean spirit in the Gospel of Mark; the man who fell on his knees before Jesus and said, “I believe, Lord; help my unbelief.”

And so with that, I’ll leave you with the song below and some thoughts on it. Thank you for your time and thanks for reading:

Thoughts on a song - “Elephant and Castle”

Elephant & Castle is a song about wanting to fight God and to lose.

It’s about visiting churches on Easter after years of not going and standing in the back of churches and having mental boxing matches with yourself and God and deciding whether or not to leave as the service starts and being terrified of feeling numb to the idea of the resurrection.

It’s about finding hope and being held in the words of simple songs from the poor and the beggars in whom else but would be the very presence of God - but who we’d just as soon ignore.

It’s about healing from self harm and trauma.

And it’s about loving and being loved by the Divine.

(Born from a different song that has a fascinating history, I strongly encourage you to give this article a gander.)

Lyrics

You can call it anything you like

But please don’t call it love

Cause I’ve been running most my life

Scared as hell that I’m not enough

In the words of a beggar found a homecoming

Been sick for a home now I’ve never seen

In the dark a whisper, “Beloved”

Suturing the cuts made at 17

I don’t wanna fight you but if I do

I wanna lose

Let every fall be a fortunate fall

That I may love and be loved by you

Shadowboxing in my mind with your ghost

In the back of a crowded room

Mystery I’m scared to be numb to

The body and blood and an empty tomb