I hate all your show and pretense
The hypocrisy of your praise
The hypocrisy of your festivals
I hate all your show.
-Jon Foreman, "Instead of a Show"
 
Monday night, I met Jon Foreman, the lead singer of the band Switchfoot. For the longest time, I never understood Switchfoot.
 
They wrote about God and Christian topics, but refused to call themselves a "Christian band." I thought that it was a cop-out to make the big bucks and play secular venues.
 
I saw them several times in concert while I was in college and would always scratch my head as to why they never gave an invitation to receive Christ during their concerts. I mean: no prayer, no twenty-minute sermonette in the middle of their set, and no corny Christian cliches as transitions between their songs?
 
Surely, Switchfoot wasn't a "Christian" band...
 
And yet, I continued to listen to their albums, while slightly judging them at their concerts, chalking up the experience to nothing more than "a good rock show." When they came out with their album Nothing Is Sound, I was sure that they had gone off the deep-end, delving into depressing, pseudo-existential lyrics about the world ending and the stupidity of yuppies. And then, one day in Arizona a few years ago, I was listening to "The Blues," and it just clicked. Jon wasn't singing "Lord, I Lift Your Name On High," but he was most definitely sharing biblical truths in a way that transcended style and culture but still communicated eternal hope.
 
I realized that it took a lot of depth and soul-searching to understand a song by Jon Foreman.
 
And as I began to dissect the songs dealing with the universal struggles of humanity, divine redemption, and the beauty of life, I re-discovered the message of Jesus - a message that at its core was rather simple, but required a lifetime to fully comprehend. It wasn't until I saw a live Switchfoot show here in Nashville a couple of years ago that I was finally able to fully appreciate their music as a worshipful experience.
 
So after being recently introduced to Foreman's new EP releases, I was eager to see him again in concert.
 
A couple weeks ago, I bought four tickets for a local show he was playing as soon as they came out. Shortly after that, I received an email that looked like junk mail; so I ignored it. A couple days later, as I was cleaning up my email inbox, I took the time to read it and screamed loud enough to send my wife running to the bedroom to make sure I was okay. I just pointed at the computer screen that said that I had won four meet-and-greet passes with Jon Foreman and Deas Vail for the upcoming concert at Trevecca Nazarene University.
 
That following Monday, Ashley and I took our friends Vince and Joe to the Jon Foreman show with us. We walked to the front of the line outside the university's new chapel, told them our names and were escorted to a private room. Our foursome waited for an hour and a half with less than a dozen other lucky souls in a small classroom where we nervously chatted in anticipation of meeting the established frontman and songwriter.
 
When the moment finally arrived, we were led to the "green room" behind the stage. We visited with a few of the guys from Deas Vail, the opening act, and waited for Jon, who was making his way around the room. As luck would have it, we were called to find our seats before Mr. Foreman introduced himself to us. Dejected, I started to leave, until Vince shoved me back towards the middle of the room, probing, "Don't you want to say 'hi' to Jon?" So, I stepped back in that direction and found myself much more nervous than I thought I'd be. I guess I didn't realize how much I admired the man. I extended my hand and said, "Hey, my name's Jeff." He greeted us all with a warm smile. He was stockier than I thought he'd be. It must be all that surfing that he does, I thought.
 
"Jon, I just want to thank you for making great art," my friend Vince blurted out.
 
Jon smiled sheepishly and said, "Oh. Well, thanks. I try." He was much more shy than I thought he'd be. He reminded me of a young rocker who had just "made it" and didn't know what to do with all the hooplah of green rooms, posing for publicity photos, and signing autographs. He really just wanted to get out there and play.
 
I asked Jon if he was looking forward to the show, only minutes before it started. "This will be fun," he admitted, explaining that it wouldn't be much of a production, "because I'll get to do basically whatever I want." He told us that two of his friends were joining him on cello and drums, but other than that, there wouldn't be much organization to it. He grinned again in obvious anticipation of the performance. We conversed for a few minutes, and he politely answered our questions and just kept smiling. We thanked him again for the opportunity and went to go find our seats.
 
Deas Vail set the tone for the night with a solid set that included two-handed tapping by both the bassist and guitarist, flawless four-part vocal harmonies, and several lengthy instrumental vamps. Their music was that type of falsetto-led, downbeat-driven sound that just left you feeling good about life. An hour later, Jon Foreman came on-stage in his trademark fedora, long black tie, and a cardigan sweater that made him resemble a modern-day Kurt Cobain. It was nothing like a Switchfoot show. He freely dialogued with the audience between most songs, took requests, forgot his own lyrics, and even tried new material. He really was doing whatever he wanted and loving every moment of it.
 
Despite the evening's light-hearted demeanor, there was an unquestionable spirit of worship as Jon cried out for justice, repentance, and love for the unlovely. He began the set with the prophetic words of Amos, disdaining hypocritical festivals, hymns, and religious services in "Instead of a Show." Having come to a Christian college to see a Christian concert with some friends from church, I was a bit unnerved... but in a good way.
 
Halfway through the set, he mentioned how much he admired Bob Dylan taking raw Scripture and simply putting music to it. As he said this, a silence fell over the crowd, and he invited his sister-in-law on-stage to accompany him in "The House of God Forever," a version of David's 23rd Psalm.
 
The set list was varied; he sang Switchfoot favorites like "Dare You to Move" and "Only Hope," accompanied by percussionist Aaron and cellist Keith (last names escape me). He even played around with a new song on the fly, asking a few audience members to hold up the lyric sheets, as he sang a humorous cowboy tune about a wife robbing her husband and everyone else. At an audience member's request, he played the chorus to "The Shadow Proves the Sunshine."
 
Jon closed the evening with "Your Love is Strong," a creative reiteration of the Lord's Prayer, belting out a passionate Our Father in his distinct upper register. With audience members' hands raised in the air prompted by the crescendo of strings and percussion, the moment couldn't be described as anything other than profoundly spiritual.
 
Foreman is among a minority of artists who are seeking to establish a strong cultural witness by the quality of their art and depth of their message. It's not what you would call "Christian music," but it offers a departure from the norm of simplistic lyrics, predictable chord progressions, and trite analogies. Because Foreman isn't pigeon-holed as a "Christian artist," he has the unique opportunity to lead his listeners into a deeper, challenging encounter with the God of the Bible. For some of us, it's a welcomed change and happens to be just what we're looking for.
 
Some other links about Jon Foreman and Switchfoot:

*Photos by Joe Gomez.