Episode 6: Curt McLey, “The Primary Conundrum of Christian Living”
POSTED BY Andrew Peterson
That’s right, faithful readers, a new episode of the Rabbit Room Podcast is up and running. This one features our own Curt McLey’s silky smooth voice.
Oh, and thanks to you guys and your kind reviews of the podcast, iTunes has added the RR Podcast to the “New & Notable” list in the music section. There are a zillion podcasts in the world, so this is a pretty cool thing. Thanks for listening!
Click here for the direct link.
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A.S. Peterson has crafted a work of compelling historical fiction which begs the question, “Can this really be a debut novel?” With dogged fidelity, Peterson captures the spirit, manners, and social conditions present during the American Revolutionary War. We meet colorful, credible characters who navigate the high seas of life and love, dependence and independence, war and peace, truth and consequence, and despite forays into dark places, The Fiddler’s Gun is beautiful, lyrical, and redemptive.
Walt Wangerin, Jr. strikes again.
Janner Igiby lives in Glipwood, a nothing little village in the land of Skree, on the edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness. Manhood is on the horizon, but Janner finds it hard to feel much hope for the future. Skree is ruled by foreign oppressors, snake men called the Fangs of Dang, servants of a shadowy emperor named Gnag the Nameless. The Skreeans are weak and weaponless. They’re even tool-less. Any Skreean who needs to use a hoe has to borrow one from the Fangs (and fill out the requisite paperwork). And from time to time, the Black Carriage arrives in Glipwood to carry young Skreeans toward an unknown fate across the Dark Sea.
I am not a fan of Civil War literature; in fact, I have always thought of it as one of those weird sub-genres for obsessive types. They’re almost like Trekkies with their re-enactments and maniacal devotion to detail. It’s just not my thing (although I’m secretly jealous that they get to dress up and shoot cannons).
A Randall Goodgame song is like a great independent movie. Characters deliver lines like they were lifted from a break room, a truck stop, or a downtown diner. Seemingly incongruent scenes are juxtaposed and plot isn’t obvious; in fact, narrative–a good story–is often more evident than linear plot lines. An indie movie, like a Randall Goodgame song, seems to tell itself. Rather than being rudely yanked by a chain through a sequence of contrived events, with a Randall Goodgame song, I have the sense that I’m being allowed a willing, but vicarious sneak peak into the real lives of his real characters.
Sara Groves irritates me just a little bit. With each album she makes, she moves from strength to strength and is always raising the bar with the quality, depth, and lyrical ambition of her work. And as a fellow artist, that’s just a little irritating since it means the rest of us are going to have to work harder if we hope to keep up.
I am outside on my front porch. The yellowed leaves are methodically falling from the black walnut in the yard, my breath is chalky visible in the recent cold snap, and lately I have been exploring the unpleasant nuances of the dark night of a soul - my own, to be exact. It is a strange passion we live out on this over-glorified orb of rock hurtling through space at some rate that I’m sure would astound me were I to know what it was. It is an odd series of days, I am realizing, when you question your own faith more than you question your own doubt. And, indeed, it is these nagging questions which have prompted me to share my thoughts on Andrew Peterson’s 2003 album, Love and Thunder.
11-year old Reuben Land, a character in the 2001 book Peace Like a River, provides narration that is clear-eyed and insightful, yet retains the magic, wonder, and innocence of youth. I found it easy to entrust my imagination to the author’s clever method of telling the story through the sensibilities of a pre-teen boy. An author with lesser skill would have either made the boy too smart-alecky for his own good or impossibly cute.
I just finished a book that upon closing it, I felt like it finished me in a sense. A quiet meditative book that reached down and stirred the deep waters in me. It’s Marilynne Robinson’s 2005 Pulitzer prize winner Gilead, given to me by my friend Andrew Peterson.
Eric Peters’s body of work addresses a diverse range of topics, but hope is a recurring theme that gently percolates in the midst of it all. And yet, somewhere between the 2001 masterpiece Land of the Living, and Scarce, the flavor of hope that Peters’s work emits has evolved closer to a tone that is more resolute than what came before. And though the complexion of hope has a broad range, the lyrics from Scarce–while intermittently contrite and timorous as in previous efforts, are now strengthened and bolstered by roots that have grown deeper, radiating an underlying grit and security.
Having read The Great Divorce many times over the years, I’ve found this classic from the great C.S. Lewis to be full of startling clarity and depth on the differences between Heaven and Hell. The only thing both have in common is that both begin in the human will; we can either let Heaven enter us and rule in us to blossom into love and goodness, or allow Hell to infect and reign in our hearts by the daily refusal to submit to Heaven.
Even if you haven’t heard Room to Breathe, its still likely you’ve heard Andy Gullahorn. He’s what I’d call a heavy lifter by trade. He writes lyrics, plays guitar, arranges vocals and adds production help to the work of artists like Jill Phillips and Andrew Peterson.
Allow me to preface this by telling you that I am a great despiser of gushing reviews. I’d much rather write (or read) a scathing dismemberment of the latest Brett Ratner film or Terry Goodkind book than suffer through four hundred words of overblown hyperbole about even the best of things. But when asked to write some thoughts on Frederick Buechner’s Godric, no amount of distaste for high praise was able to intervene. I hope you’ll take what I say with the understanding that I do not say it readily or lightly.
Curt, dude, you could read the phone book and I’d listen. Seriously, there are so many folks that I need to send this podcast. I pray that I will listen to it the next time I am in the midst of pain and either trying to make light of it (as is my tendency) or drowning in it. Thank you.
Thanks, Curt. Great words. And yes, it sounds good. Wanna read an audio book for me?
Curt,
My pastor says often “God allows what He hates, to accomplish what He loves.” That little phrase has carried the day for those us he shepherds in our local faith community and beyond.
I loved the Caedmon’s Call reference. That line has always resonated with me too.
By the way, I have a map of the U.S. right in front of my desk in my office. I looked up just now and see that Nebraska is at the center of my gaze. As often as I remember, I’ll pray “God bless Curt!” — part homage to Julie Andrews (Sound of Music) and fully thankful for mirth and musings of “Movie Man” McLey.
Barliman,
This podcast is yet another excellent wrinkle to the overall Rabbit Room concept. You are truly a blessing to the Body of Christ. God bless you son.
Thanks Curt. A needed reminder.
Thanks for the kind words and support.
sevenmiles - I don’t like whining, so sometimes I avoid prayers that seem to me to be self-indulgent whining. I’m trying to learn that God wants me to cast All my cares upon Him, even those that seem trivial. I do try to frame my prayers in an optimistic, postive light. After all, if we go into prayer with a faith attitude, we should have the assurance that our prayer will be answered in the best way possible, even if that means more tough times. As I learned from experience, sometimes that means I’ll be navigating more pain for awhile. Maybe that’s why Roman 8:28 is so inspirational.
Sam - When your book goes audio, let me know. I’d love to be the reader for it.
Tony - “God allows what He hates, to accomplish what He loves.”
I’ll have to chew on that one for awhile, but I think I like it. It surely applies to sending His Son, in the most maximum way possible.
Thanks for the prayers, Tony. I really appreciate it. I don’t appreciate being identified with The Sound of Music. That’s almost as much of a stigma as being identified with Titanic, which inadvertently happened to me on the AP message board many moons ago. Unfortunately, honestly compels me to admit that I’m a fan of both movies. But I like football too, so don’t get wrong idea. Da-Bears.
Aaron - It’s always good to hear from you. On a personal note, thanks for the nice e-mail the other day. Keep playing your tunes, brother Aaron.
Excellent podcast entry, Curt! Very encouraging! It made me think, “Even when nuns take your starters, or Rex Grossman throws another interception… still even then my heart will go on!” Seriously, it was good stuff. And I’ll buy Sam’s audiobook to hear your voice some more!
I listened to this today while on the treadmill and it was extremely helpful and encouraging. Thank you for taking the time to put this down on electrons for download.
I hope this podcast doesn’t become short-lived (haven’t seen one in a couple of months) but even if it is, this one episode was worth all the efforts.