St. Patti's Day

Okay, I'm a Jonny-come-lately to the Patti Smith fan club. I wasn't old enough in the 70's to be aware of the New York punk scene. In the 80's I thought listening to Bananarama was living on the fringe. In the 90's I was lost in the grunge era like every body else my age. I guess it was hearing my favorite band, U2, talking about how Smith's work influenced them and even singing with Smith in some of their New York shows that got me to finally look up her work.




I missed out.


I find her work, honest, seering, poetic and at times even difficult to listen to, but always powerful and moving. I wouldn't say that I put her stuff on all the time, but having finally given her a listen, I find there are times that I'm just in the mood for Patti Smith.

She starts of her first studio album, Horses, with a strong statement,

Jesus died for somebody's sins but not mine

meltin' in a pot of thieves

wild card up my sleeve

thick heart of stone

my sins my own they belong to me, me

people say "beware!" but I don't care

the words are just rules and regulations to me, me

It may be strange that I, a Christian minister, would be attracted to such a song, but I am. There's a certain kind of brutal honesty there that I have to appreciate. At least she takes her sins seriously enough to claim them, which is more than I can say about myself most days. At least she recognizes the tricks up her sleeves and her heart of stone, I barely stop to notice. I take the cheap grace way out of assuming Jesus will handle it for me without really stopping to consider what I'm expecting Jesus to do. If I stopped and looked deep in my soul as Smith does in her songs, I'm not sure I would like what I'd find there. I'm fairly certain that I wouldn't want to write about it and sing about it before a crowd the way Smith does.

I guess that's why Smith has simultaneously won a devoted following that includes so many popular musicians but has still remained below the radar of the mainstream. She's a little too honest.

I was pleased to see her op-ed in the NY Times today about her induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. She has mixed feelings about it just like I knew she would. She writes about accepting it on behalf of her late husband, Fred Sonic Smith most notably of the MC5, who never got such recognition. She also writes about the power of rock-n-roll to subvert and to challenge the poerful. S he concludes her essay with a powerful picture of her relationships in her neighborhood, with ordinary people, and offers those relationships as justification for her acceptance of accolades:

In the end it was my neighbors who put everything in perspective. An approving nod from the old Italian woman who sells me pasta. A high five from the postman. An embrace from the notary and his wife. And a shout from the sanitation man driving down my street: “Hey, Patti, Hall of Fame. One for us.”

I just smiled, and I noticed I was proud. One for the neighborhood. My parents. My band. One for Fred. And anybody else who wants to come along.

I don't know how to articulate it and maybe I don't need to, but there's just something remarkably Christ-like in the picture of community that Smith paints.

Grace and Peace,

Chase