Chris Maxwell's Newsletter

Another Day with David Wilcox
Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Another day,
Let's listen again to the words of David Wilcox. I hope - as you read his answers, his dares, his dreams - you will take time to listen to his music. His creative honesty challenges our customs and invites us to open our hearts and our hands, receiving what the Carpenter brings our way.

Chris: Unlike many spiritual artists, your songs do not fit a particular religious niche. How do you describe the Christian spirituality in your music?

David: Wow. How does my music stir a deep connection? It brings people back to their own heart's longing - the undeniable yearning in their hearts that is beating in their own chests. This is not a theological abstraction; this is the fact that the human condition is about waking up in the morning and something is missing, as John Mayer so beautifully sings. So, what are we to do with this?

If there is a sort of message or tone or underlying thing about my music, it's probably that the longing of your own heart is not at fault; it is not the problem. It is a promise. It's a promise of the capacity of your heart to know fullness. And, I would say that the message about my music is to trust that longing instead of trying to banish it or placate it or distract it.

If you were to ask your heart what it wants through the layers of distractions, at first it would say what it wants is just to belong. To be part of a group. But then you ask it to deepen up and finally it will say, "Well, the right group." You say, "What do you mean the right group?"

Pretty soon you're not talking about membership and not about the comfort of just belonging to people who are separating themselves, but you realize that this longing was put there as a gift, as a treasure hunt, as a clue, as the first in a long line of clues to lead you home. And that your own heart, your own heart's yearning, is the thing you can trust most of all.

There are beautiful guides that have gone before us. Years before, decades before, centuries before, millenniums before. There are guides that have gone before us and there are institutions that are built around that. There are people who have marked the trail and marked it beautifully, giving us many ways to be in community with people who have walked it before us.

I would love my music to be speaking that the yearning in your heart is not to be confused with just another thing you have to buy into. As if it was another consumer thing. Maybe this community is the best thing that will save us. There is a spark in your own heart that when gone to will burst into a flame, that will make a light of its own, that will prove trustworthy so that my music doesn't have to be speaking a particular team, colors, institution kind of thing.

Chris: How does the church build a substitute so that people miss out on what you are talking about? Do we put the pieces there to get in the way instead of welcoming people into the Way?

David: It is a beautiful and mysterious thing that the institutions have preserved the writings of this amazing character Jesus, and yet, what institutions do is look out for their survival. That is how institutions have to function. They don't want to waste people's money. They don't want to suddenly go broke. If an institution behaved as Jesus behaved it would be willing to not exist on this earth any more if it came down to following the truth or building an empire on this earth.

Institutions behave differently than Jesus behaved. And yet, institutions connect us to the church within the church, the spark that is there. His character is not just a historical figure but a presence in your own heart. When you feel that joy, you want to share it. When you share it you bring people together. When you bring people together an institution is formed. I mean, it could be in your living room. It could already be too big. So, the beauty of what we're trying to do with what we speak or sing in front of people is that we are trying to surrender ourselves to the Spirit that moves through, and then becomes present in the room in other people's hearts, then speaks of something that is very present tense, that is very without walls.

And why does "Spirit" not happen in our religious institutions? Well, can we just do what we did last Sunday? That worked. We know how to do that, you know. Let's just, you know, do the old stand up, sit down, stand up, sit down, okay bye. And, you know it will be enough because it is what we are used to. And to expect Spirit? It's scary. So yeah, it is a beautiful, wonderful contradiction.

I'm going to be playing music in twenty-eight minutes. Hopefully I'm going to come out there knowing that these people have come from perfectly comfortable living rooms and they have driven a long distance to maybe hear a song that matters to them. And if that's going to happen, then the best thing I can do is know that my cleverness will not serve, my words are noise, my sound is not enough. If there is to be music, it has to be orchestrated in accordance with what they're bringing in their hearts.

How am I to know that? There's no way I can know that unless I were to come out feeling humbled and expectant, daring to believe that this thing that has stirred my heart for so long, this simple sound of acoustic guitar, and these words that stretch over music until they crack and the light comes through, these songs that have changed my life. I pray that the songs will matter. Like the times they first came through, when I first wrote them down or heard them in the back of my mind and they made me weep because they convicted me. They knew me better than I knew myself. They showed me the places I was asleep and busy and proud and cunning and clever. And they reminded me of what it is like to have a heart that is filled with the awareness of what an unbelievable gift it is to be breathing and to have this heart beating and to have this feeling in my chest of comparing this life that I see and this life that I know to a life that somehow feels much more real. A life that I have never seen. An unseen life that, I'm certain, is much more real than all that I have seen. This is what I'm calling that "yearning in our hearts," that "comparing to what we have not yet seen." And, I'm not talking some day. I'm talking this heart of mine as it is holding its breath waiting for me to get out from this controlling personality that I surround myself with. This thing I think is me. To come out of it, and take a deep breath of air and for once, uh, see the sun and feel that I am coming to life. And know it for the first time.

Songs do that to me. So if I come out there expecting that somehow for these tired old songs that I've heard a million times, for them to appear suddenly feel like a rabbit out of a hat, like this bizarre thing that happens when people come expecting something that matters. And I show up knowing I don't have it. And when the two of us meet all I do is trust that there is a reservoir of water on the hills and there are empty dry fields and there's a gate and a valve. I stand and I open and I say, "There are hearts that are so dry and there is so much water. And, oh my God, there is gravity. Just gravity. And, as long as I get out of the way the two are sure to meet." That's what I'm going to try to do.

Chris: Thanks again to David Wilcox. Let's allow his lyrics to move us into a life beyond belief:

Faith can't be your fortress, arrogant with pride
Come walk here beside me with the humble ones outside
And BE the mercy, all my people need the peace
This fight over faith won't bring them relief
I love them beyond belief

Beyond Belief
from Open Hand
David Wilcox
2009


Along the way,
Chris Maxwell

Powerful Statement: If we are to be truly alive in all our capacity, the advice is to die first. Drop the controlling. Drop the give-me voice. Find out what part has been waiting for that to get out of the way, what life is bigger than that. Here is an undeniable glimpse that comes randomly at this fact: we are not the captains of our destinies. (David Wilcox)

For more information on David Wilcox music and concerts, check out his website:
www.davidwilcox.com

Another Day with David Wilcox
Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Another day,

His songs open doors to new worlds. The lyrics and music reveal those worlds: words about worlds we often ignore, we fear, we rush through, we seek to forget, we long to remember. Words about worlds of hope and peace, of relationships and renewal, of culture and conflict, of healing and dreams. Our worlds. The worlds we crave. The songs of David Wilcox expose those worlds as his voice guides us, as his guitar surprises us.

Open Hand, the latest CD by David Wilcox, continues his venture of music which opens his life and gives audiences a chance to open their ears and hearts. Prior to one of his concerts, I enjoyed a conversation with David. Here is a portion of that interview.

Allow his words to open doors for you; doors daring you to exit your busy customs and enter a new world.

Chris: What do you hope the audiences experience in your concerts?

David: I would love it if people who could feel the loving of their own hearts and the longing for a life that felt vibrant, juicy, and made their life story a story worth telling.

Chris: As they respond and tell you how you've turned their lives into a story like your songs, what are some of the best compliments you've received from a fan?

David: Two stories I wanna tell. Let me see. So, I was driving to a gig. It's summer and it's a downtown area where there are big, wide streets. There is a sidewalk cafe across the street and I'm stopped at a light. I'm looking for the venue and I see a man and his wife. They're having dinner at one of these round tables of a sidewalk cafe. He looks over and sees me. I had the windows down in my rental car. And you can see him sort of speaking to his wife and pointing. He smiles when he sees that I see him. There was something in his expression that communicated that he didn't desire to speak. There was enough distance that there was nothing to say. And yet, the look in his eyes said that there was some closeness that the music had provided, that there was gratitude in his heart about the music and about what he felt from it.

Now here is the cool part. That was sort of my best memory ever of somebody coming to me with some kind of compliment or thank you. And I found it odd that it felt so good because, of course, it was a busy street and I was across the street in the left hand turn lane and there was no connection in some way. And yet, what it spoke to me about was if this music serves, it serves in a way that feels like it is their music. They heard it in a way that felt close and personal and they don't confuse that feeling with the musician who happened to sing it. So I really enjoyed that setting where, it was as if he was saying we had a friend in common. Both of us knew this music. He was acknowledging it wasn't really me that he was thanking.

The other story that I thought would answer that question is this. Many years ago I was playing in a setting that was just a terrible concert setting. It was in a mall on a little stage. And, instead of having a sound system, my voice and guitar were coming across hundreds and hundreds of these little speakers all over the mall through the ceiling. The people who were right in front of me were oblivious to the fact I was playing music for them. But somehow the music was going everywhere. I was doing my best to try to remember, okay, remember that you are playing for people you can't even see, remember that you're not doing this so people will come to you but you are sending the music out, the music has its own appointments to keep with people's hearts. Well, I made my peace with that as best as I can during a gig.

After the gig, I'm packing up my gear thinking that was a total loss but I did my best and I kept my attitude good. This woman came up and she said, "You were the one playing music, right?" I said, "Yeah." She said, "Who are you?" I said, "I'm David Wilcox; I have this record." She said, "I know that but who are you?" And I smiled and said, "What do you mean?" She said, "I got out of my car in the parking garage and there was no one else around and there was this song that was coming out of nowhere. Coming out of nowhere and everywhere. Coming out of nowhere and everywhere to sing right to me. I thought it was the radio at first and I felt like this bizarre coincidence that the song would find me when I was all alone in the middle of nowhere. And I walk in to ask somebody what station it is tuned to and I keep hearing this same voice. I start asking around and somebody says you are playing here somewhere. And I walk all around this mall and I finally find you."

I can't remember the exact words I said, but I said something like, "I'm glad the song found you." The way she initially said "who are you" is another example. It was as if some beautiful slight of hand was going on. She wasn't interested in the musician or the name or the CD or any of that. What she was interested in was the timing with a capital T. How this song could find her.

I love the way she came as if to kinda pull off the disguise, like "You can't just pretend you are a musician here. We must know there is something going on here."

Chris: Thanks to David Wilcox for the conversation. More to come in the next Another Day.

Along the way,
Chris Maxwell

Powerful Song:
Across this great divide,
river's wide
Where the future's waiting
If I can just decide
to leave the past

Dream Again
from Open Hand
David Wilcox
2008

For more information on David Wilcox music and concerts, check out his website:
http://www.davidwilcox.com/

Another Day Along the Way
Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Another day...

Dear Brittani,
Yesterday was your birthday. Our party wasn't what we had hoped. Your party was the best you'd ever experienced.

We are happy for you. At least, we're trying really hard to be happy for you. But, you know us. We think about you singing and laughing and dancing, while our feelings remind us of how much we miss you, how much we enjoyed you, how much you let us feel welcomed by you.

So, here is a quick note. It is really for me. I'm addressing it to you as a healthy way of getting my own pain out.

Your friends remember you. Your life on earth was a story. A story of hope and kindness, of honesty and reality, of questions and wishes.

You told the stories. With acts of kindness, suggestions for change, dreams of better days, friendships with many people, you told the stories.

You sang the stories. With a desire for genuine worship and intercession, with confessions and declarations of honesty in a world of sadness and fake religion, you sang the stories.

You craved the story. With eyes open to see what we too often ignore, with hands open to receive what your Heavenly Father handed to you, you craved the stories.

Now, you've entered the story. That story of a new home, a new land, an eternal Father. That story of mistakes forgotten, dreams fulfilled, honesty welcomed, pain removed. That story of love and acceptance, of passion and compassion. That story of a worship song with no end, no limitations, no complaints. That story of a dance, a friend, a family. You've entered that story.

Brittani, you once told me you wanted Emmanuel College to purchase a building in downtown Royston for two reasons. To provide a place for 24 hours of worship and prayer, and to be more influential in helping the community. Now, you are experiencing non-stop worship and prayer as we sit here hoping to learn from you about helping others in our community.

You once told me you wanted a night of worship. A different, unique, intimate, creative night of worship. Not a normal Chapel. Not the status quo. Not beginning at 7:00. Because you woke at 6:22 to pray, because you read from 2 Samuel 6:22 after David's dance, and because you believed starting at 6:22 would give us more time for honest, free, genuine worship, you made your proposal. Now, your worship is not limited by any time or place or sound system or opinions of others.

You once wanted to help design a small group where the agenda would mean open discussion about controversial topics. Raising questions. Studying for true, biblical answers. Thinking through how personal preferences and American politics can flavor those biblical answers. Now, your discussion group is not small at all and the answers are better than you could have imagined.

So, thanks. For your dreams and desires. For your learning and living. For your voice and your choices.

We will miss you. And, if you get a chance, ask our Father to help us enter the story and be healed in this time of grief. The story is a rough one. But we're glad it has ended so well for you.

Along the way,
Chris Maxwell

Powerful Statement: David, dancing when the Ark of the Covenant was coming into town, got naked and honest. I desire for there to be a spirit of nakedness in the form of honesty before God. Singing to Him new songs, dancing new dances, new shouts, new silences, new flames of passion to worship our God to flow freely out of our being. Forsaking all that others may think of us, while maintaining the heart of corporate worship. (Brittani Panozzo)