Crazy Heart and Worship

Husband and I went to see Crazy Heart the other night.  I have to pause every time I go to utter the movie title, because I always, almost say Crazy Horse, which reminds me of this, which reminds me of traveling 2000 miles on I-90 with Brother in Summer 2004, which has nothing to do with going to see a movie with Husband.  This digressive train of thought has, thus, made it difficult to reflect on Crazy Heart, a movie starring Jeff Bridges and Maggie Gyllenhaal.

It’s Sunday morning, and I’m in between worship team practice and choir practice before Sunday morning service.  As I was getting ready for church, I was reflecting on worship, and somehow the reflection on worship led me to 2 nights ago watching Crazy Heart.

Crazy Heart is about a seemingly washed-up, alcohol-soaked musician/songwriter, who has arrived at 57 fueled by addiction, and without any touch points of  responsibility and intimacy.  His longing for intimacy and his fear of himself leads him to rehab, where he allegedly shapes up and cleans up.

What I’m thinking about this morning is how Bad Blake makes sense of his world through song.  Songwriting is the place where he has a raw and honest voice, one that can cut through the whiskey and emptiness to find significance.

As I prepare to lead worship this morning, I pray that my words would not be empty.  Probably three weeks out of four in any given month, my mind is somewhere else during the bulk of the weekly church service.  My mouth opens and closes singing words on the screen without ever really filtering them through my consciousness.

This morning, the image I’m struck with is Bad Blake, sitting on his porch strumming his guitar after Buddy and Jean leave.  His words are an offering, for him, probably not to God, but to the world, to music, to Jean, or to life.  Regardless, the painful fullness of it feels like a kind of worship…one I desire to emulate, by searching for that place in my own life and drawing it out as an offering.  It’s from that place, the bottom, the place of despair, the deepest recesses of the soul, from which I long to sing this morning.

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3 responses to “Crazy Heart and Worship

  1. Wow I have never thought that worship could impact some one this deeply . It make me think of how David must have felt singing/writing Psalms

  2. How would the world make sense in the absence of song? After just a glimpse at string theory, I thought, “We’re all made of music,” and smiled. Yes, I was right all along, scribbling lyrics on scraps in the middle of the night, humming to myself in math class (though I did get some odd looks). Someone once told me that perhaps God did not merely speak, but rather sang the universe into existence …

    Think … emotions come in waves, just like sound comes in waves … everything in existence moves, just like sound …

  3. Really interesting, HBU. I, for one, am often completely unmoved by worship in church ceremonies. In fact, it’s almost impossible for me to feel anything during typical praise-and-worship sessions. However, when I read something like this, I am reminded that worship can be anywhere. I might not be able to emulate Bad Blake’s worshipful tone in a church ceremony, but I can emulate it elsewhere in my life.

    Thank you for giving me something to reflect on this Easter!

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