In Defense of Christian Subculture

I grew up in the afterglow of contemporary Christian music’s astonishing 90s heyday. I was only 6 years old in 1995, the year that dc Talk and Jars of Clay released multi-platinum albums and became “crossover” successes. But by freshman year of high school I was enjoying a CCM industry that was exploding with a seemingly unending stream of new artists, albums, and record labels. At some point in high school CCM fell off of my radar (with some exceptions; I’ve purchased every Jars album), but for several years I was an avid consumer of the evangelical subculture’s rock scene. Some of the artists simply weren’t very good, and a large percentage of my CD collection was the fruit of a record label’s market research efforts to furnish a “safe” alternative to Hot 100 trends. I knew that even at 16. But it never once occurred to me to resent it. In fact, I enjoy most of it it even today.

Evangelical subculture is frequently the butt of jokes, parody, and even real anger. Entire websites have been founded with the sole purpose of laughing at the lamentable cultural output of American Christians. Faithful are the wounds of a friend, and the truly mock-worthy nonsense probably still outnumbers the memes. But I do find myself wondering if all the concentrated efforts to scorn poor evangelical culture have actually helped the cause.

A lot of the more embarrassing products of Christian music or cinema are very niche items, films or recordings that you aren’t likely to hear your coworkers or non-evangelical neighbors talking about. A good example is Christian “apocalyptic” movies. These are, as evangelical culture critics point out, produced, marketed and consumed to and by a very specific demographic. The quality of the writing, acting, cinematography, etc, is generally quite low, reflecting a least common denominator budget that minimizes risk and maximizes potential to gain from a niche market that is eager to see their beliefs on TV for once.

And my question is: So what? What exactly is the problem with what I just described? More to the point, how is what I just described remarkably different than any of the thousands of “niche” films that are produced by major studios and marketed by professionals collecting six figure salaries?

Alissa Wilkinson, chief film critic for Christianity Today, recently defended the magazine’s highly negative review of the new Left Behind film. She writes that the magazine received angry reader comments that rebuked CT and critic Jackson Cuidon for ripping a film that had evangelistic potential:

The thing that makes a movie “Christian,” in today’s movie climate, is that it either explores important questions rooted in and resonating with the Christian faith (I think of This is Martin Bonner, or Calvary, or Tree of Life, or any number of films), or it is made for the Christian “market” and will be primarily watched by that market, like God’s Not Dead. Or, sometimes, both.

Jack’s argument is that in his view, the property does none of those things well, settling more to be a “Jesus juke” of other popular genres. They are, in other words, copies of things that already exist, with “Christian” stuff stapled on in order to make them more palatable to a particular market segment with money to spend.

A defense of Left Behind that focuses on its evangelistic potential does indeed whiff on a proper theology of art (and, incidentally, misunderstands the impact of quality narrative on evangelistic encounters). But I wonder if Wilkinson’s critique of Left Behind and other Christian film’s deriative nature also misses the mark.

Wilkinson decries the copying of existing film templates and the addition of a biblical theme in order to market to believing audiences. Yet has she considered how often this happens in mainstream Hollywood? In the wake of Peter Jackson’s astronomical success with The Lord of the Rings, how many studios started digging in the sand for swashbuckling fantasy epics that could cash in with LOTR’s faithful audiences? How many superhero movies have we seen since Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man?

Christian subculture is highly derivative. But then again, so are the pieces of culture from which it derives. The overwhelming majority of those believers who will attend Left Behind are also watching films like Transformers and The Maze Runner. They are going into each of these movies wanting to be entertained by an interesting narrative in an experience that can be shared with friends or family. When some of these folks see Left Behind, they will leave entertained AND affirmed, affirmed that, at least for two hours, the silver screen hasn’t depicted their spiritual worldview as irreparably stupid, bigoted or irrelevant.

This positive reaction shouldn’t be construed as intellectual surrender. Nor should Left Behind, or contemporary Christian music for that matter, be especially singled out for unoriginality merely because it is Christians who are going to consume it. Wilkinson is concerned that Christians accept lower quality from their entertainment if it is packaged to them as “Christian.” I don’t think that’s an invalid concern, but I also don’t think it’s entirely sequitur. It seems to me that the Christian audiences who will give positive word-of-mouth to their friends about Left Behind are also likely to glow about The Giver as well. Wilkinson seems to imagine Christian audiences thoughtfully criticizing films like Guardians of the Galaxy but accepting Left Behind prima facie since it’s a Christian story. I just don’t think that happens.

The same dynamic exists in Christian music. When I was in the midst of my CCM fandom, I not only knew that many of the artists I was listening to were copies of “secular” bands, I actually desired that. I liked Matchbox Twenty and Dave Matthews Band’s sound but wanted lyrics that encouraged me as a Christian, so I turned to Big Tent Revival and Daily Planet. Likewise, if I wanted a head-bobbing hip-hop song but without the vulgarity of FM radio’s offerings, I sought out artists like GRITS and KJ-52. This kind of “substitution” culture was actually encouraged by the industry; thus, CCM Magazine and other publications would include a “Sounds Like” infographic in their album reviews.

This aesthetic has problems, no doubt. And I certainly would agree that discernment is a higher road than avoidance. But art was made for man, not man for art. Christian subculture is not immune from criticism, but it shouldn’t be viewed as intrinsically misguided. Desiring art that speaks to or affirms one’s worldview is not a Christian idiosyncrasy, it is a human one. Christians who praise poorly made Christian art, or poorly made art that is just bereft of profanity or nudity, might merit some education in theological aesthetics, but they shouldn’t attract mockery or exasperation.

Christian subculture has many positive attributes. It often provides tender Christian consciences with a creative outlet that otherwise wouldn’t exist. It also continues a very long marriage between art and explicit theology, a marriage that has served the church for thousands of years. Additionally, the effort to shout down Christian subculture might have unintended side effects. If Ross Douthat’s thinking is correct, it could be that the slightly embarrassing cultural offerings within evangelicalism actually serve a higher purpose. To lose them might be to stagnate the evangelical imagination even further.

Recently Lecrae told The Atlantic, “In the same way that Jesus was a carpenter, I don’t know if he put his message into all the things he built with his hands—I think he wanted to make good quality craftsmanship.” I agree, and I think good quality craftsmanship can happen even when it is made for and consumed by Christian niche markets. Let’s not give up on Christian subculture just yet. You never know–another Jars of Clay or dc Talk might be around the corner.