On a rare occasion, I will write some lyrics that I know are good.  How do I know that they are good?  Interesting question.  How does any poet assess his or her work?  Well, every time I come back to them–whether it be over the span of a few hours or a few years–I find that they still affect me on a gut level, and I nod my head saying, “yeah, that is so true.”  Moreover, I find that other people are doing the same. 

Perhaps the reactions of others is the most critical component.  In my younger days, I wrote verse in my journal that spoke to me but to no one else.  In its composition, it didn’t really need to communicate on a broad level.  What I mean is that the words were rich and meaningful when I placed them in the context of my own experience, but they weren’t really able to be shared because the language was too ambiguous.  Now I realize that poetry is really artful not just when the lines are rich or symbolic in language, but when the reader is able to connect with what I have communicated.  So in essence, poetry becomes great when it is both vividly artistic and broadly communicative of a shared emotion or experience.

OK, so I didn’t mean for this post to be a critique of poetry in general, nor do I hold up these lyrics as the pinnacle of my writing.  I do appreciate it when songwriters are diligent with their craft, not just spouting the first thing that comes into their head nor simply spilling words from their journal onto the leadsheet. 

Having said that, these lyrics which I wrote last year keep impacting me every time I read them.  They are from a song which will be on my upcoming release, Mercy Falls, which features the worship team at Christ Church of Pasadena.  However, they are not reprinted in the worship resources section of the website, so you’ll only be able to find them here.  If you enjoy these and they communicate to you on that gut level, drop me a comment and let me know.

Learning How to Read (C 2007 Daniel Radmacher)

I wish that I could fly over trees and over time

With everything in view

If I could trace my life like a tapestry, I’d find

The path I should pursue.

Cause I have lost my way, it seems

And I have lost the eyes to see

The forest from the trees.

 

I wish that I could breathe underwater, under sea

With simple certainty;

If I could take that plunge would your heart instruct my lungs?

Confirm my destiny.

Cause I am not where I should be

And I have tried to find a way

To see and then believe.

 

And I’ve been hoping all my life to catch a glimpse of You.

To feel that You are in this moment, to know that You are true.

I only want to find the answer…knowing You.

 

I wish that I could sing in the language of my King

The joy of angel songs;

If I could voice Your praise with a special kind of grace,

I’d know where I belong.

Cause I am wandering through this rhyme

And I am wondering how to find

The lyric You’ve inspired.

 

And I’ve been waiting all my life to catch a glimpse of You.

To feel that You are in this moment, to know that You are true.

I only want to find the answer…knowing You.

 

I wish that I could fly over trees and over life,

Interpret all I see.

The sunlight on the sand could reveal a greater Hand

So I’m learning how to read.

I have noticed that the most meaningful things in my life are the things that I could not achieve, but that I have been given by grace. I’m thinking of things like my wife and my son, my friends and the community that cares about me, the strange and unaccountable serendipity in my pursuits that is beyond my ability to procure. Conversely, the things for which I have worked the hardest-my skills and various achievements-at times seem empty of value and remarkably less than significant.

Moreover, I find that gratitude is increased in me by those things that I could never deserve, but have been given freely. Conversely, the things that I feel I most deserve, many of which I am grasping to attain, only serve to produce in me an eager craving for more and more. In other words, they never seem to satisfy. The most satisfying things in my life are, I believe, those things which I could never earn, those moments when the enormity of life in its beauty slip over me like the last rays of the setting sun on an otherwise cloudy day.

I think that these are probably the things that we think of most fondly as we slip from this life’s shore. When I die, I don’t believe that I’ll be remembering how elevated I became in my career, or how many CDs or books I released. I don’t think that I will ponder fondly how many people knew my name and praised it, or how exalted my reputation became as a musician or songwriter. Rather, I think that I will recall holding my son and singing to him as I rocked him to sleep on an August night in Portland, the way that my mother’s wrinkled hands looked on the keys of the piano as we sang together for no reason but joyful harmony, or the huge snowflakes that pounded my wife and I as we gleefully ran barefoot outside sometime after midnight on a January night. Interestingly, these are the things that are perhaps most easily taken for granted in the living of life, but also the most cherished in the losing of it.

Perhaps grace works this way: God gives in our undeserving so that there is no mistaking the source of His goodness, yet withholds in our striving so that we are driven to the end of ourselves, to our inevitable bankruptcy of spirit.

Check out the review of my book, Experiencing Worship and Worshiping Experience in the September 2008 issue of Worship Leader magazine.  Or, for those of you who aren’t subscribers, you can read the review right here in my blog.

 

“You have probably heard the word ‘postmodern’ circulating either as a delight or as a disease.  The word has sparked many debates, formed strong opinions and sometimes even division in the Church today.  But do we even really know what it means?  Where did it come from, where is it going, and what are we called to do in the mean time?  Daniel Radmacher is a worship leader at Christ Church of Pasadena as well as a Talbot Theological Seminary graduate where he received his M.Div degree.  We don’t know about you, but if we are going to learn a new term, we want to hear it from someone who knows their stuff.  In  his book, Experiencing Worship and Worshiping Experience:  The Changing Face of Evangelical Worship in Postmodern Culture, he explains in a well-laid out manner the history, the shift and the implications of the shift from the modern to the postmodern world.

 

At times the book can read as a bit academic, requiring some heavy lifting for the average reader, but it is worth it.  He takes seriously that which has serious implications for worship today.  The ‘Postmodern Worshiper,’ as Radmacher defines this new subset, is, of course, a product of the surrounding post-modern culture, but more importantly, a complex mix of both positive and negative aspects of the culture.  And Radmacher does an excellent job of delineating the current worship landscape.  The chapter, ‘Two Worship Paradigms (divided into Part I and II),’ is extremely helpful for any worship leader looking for direction toward the most effective insights for helping to lead his or her congregation.  He discerns and names some powerful distinctions that help clarify different mindsets in the post-modern worship culture (‘Worship as Edification’ and ‘Worship as Experience.’)  It proves once again that just when we thought we had the formula down, there is more to learn.  As to experiencing God in worship, Radmacher reminds us of the all-important truth that it’s not about the bells and whistles, but striving to encounter the one true God.

In addition to his own observations, Radmacher points to the work of other important scholars in the field, such as Robert Webber, John Piper, Karen Lafferty and contemporaries like Brian McLaren.  Reading the book is like a refresher course on worship.  Not only is the writing smart and full of great, applicable information, but it is also moving.  Clearly Radmacher has a heart for the subject.  Well worth the read.”

--Worship Leader magazine, September 2008