Prophetic Notes: Vision 2 - I Hung My Head

     For some reason, perhaps some mixture of the rain that is falling outside on this drizzly December afternoon in Atlanta and the haunting recollection of last Friday's horrific massacre in Newtown, Connecticut, I am reminded this day of a particularly prophetic (and poetic) song by Sting. As a warning, this will most likely be the first of several blog posts on this artist for he has long captured my imagination and monopolized my music library. 

Sting

     The song which comes to mind this cold and dreary afternoon is "I Hung My Head" from his album Mercury Falling (an album which I have known like the back of my hand since childhood thanks to my father).

Mercury Falling is perhaps my favorite Sting album. Released in 1996.

     Sting is perhaps the best storyteller I know. And the story he tells in this particular piece of art has been carved into my soul for many years and I wish to share it with you this day. Before I reflect upon the dark beauty of this song, it is best to listen to it so as to let its magnificence speak for itself. You can listen to it here or below.

Early one morning with time to kill

I borrowed Jeb's rifle and sat on the hill

I saw a lone rider crossing the plain

I drew a bead on him to practice my aim

My brother's rifle went off in my hand

A shot rang out across the land

The horse he kept running, the rider was dead

I hung my head, I hung my head

I set off running to wake from the dream

My brother's rifle went into the stream

I kept on running into the salt lands

And that's where they found me, my head in my hands

The sheriff he asked me "Why had I run"

Then it came to me just what I had done

And all for no reason, just one piece of lead

I hung my head, I hung my head

Here in the courthouse, the whole town is there

I see the judge high up in his chair

"Explain to the courtroom what went through your mind

And we'll ask the jury what verdict they find"

I said "I felt the power of death over life

I orphaned his children I widowed his wife

I beg their forgiveness I wish I was dead"

I hung my head, I hung my head

Early one morning with time to kill

I see the gallows up on the hill

And out in the distance a trick of the brain

I see a lone rider crossing the plain

He's come to fetch me to see what they done

We'll ride together til Kingdom come

I pray for God's mercy for soon I'll be dead

I hung my head, I hung my head

     I struggle, even now after listening to this song my entire life, to put into words what I receive from this beautiful piece of art.  In all honesty, I find that its meaning to me is nuanced by what page I find myself in the book of my life (stay tuned for a future blog post on this song).  That being said, what fascinates (and haunts) me most is the tension that Sting holds between irony on one hand and grace in the other.

    The beautiful and dark irony of this song is that the one who "had time to kill" did a deed that caused him to hang his head in shame.  As the narrative progresses he quite literally hung his head on a morning with time to kill.  This play on words leaves the listener haunted at the "end" of the story (though I don't think Sting would use that word so easily).  

     I believe that this song is chiefly about the precious and delicate nature of life.  It is because of this reality that the end of this song is so beautiful.  We all yearn for redemption and grace.  We all hope that the day will come when our wrongs will be righted and our sins will be removed.  That being said, what fascinates me even more about this song is that Sting leaves us with a fleeting (though nonetheless tangible) image of redemption and grace without ignoring the reality of death; at the "end" of the song, the rider is still dead and the main character is about to be hanged.  

     However, Sting (who, by the way, is a self-proclaimed agnostic) nonetheless prophecies that this world in which we live does not have the final word.  Yes, death is real.  Yes, evil is present in our lives.  Yes, we have reason to hang our heads in shame in our brokenness.  Yes, we feel the power of death over life when we watch the funerals of the six and seven year old children murdered last week in Newtown, Connecticut.  

    But this song gives me the vocabulary to speak of grace and of beauty and of life.  And although Sting and I might differ somewhat on our religious convictions, I have a feeling that he and I both see a higher power whose love and life will not run and hide at the sound of a gun.  For the Kingdom will come and until then, you and I will ride together in God's mercy!  

                             Grace and peace,

                             Stephen