She the Heretic!!

Jesus and John Wayne: the song about my religious deconstruction

My song Jesus and John Wayne is out everywhere now. 🌱 Inspired by the book with the same name, it’s a religious deconstruction anthem with an edge of political commentary. I wrote this song back in November, shortly after the election results, and watched as it immediately resonated and had a few mini-viral moments. Truthfully, I never planned to release it. But when my label approached me about a charity album opportunity benefitting The Ally Coalition, and with the help of the incredible Allison Ponthier and Joy Oladokun on vocals, I happily rethought that. :)

“God is the name of the blanket we put over mystery to give it shape.”
- AC/DC road manager, Barry Taylor

I don’t usually believe artists when they say “this is my most personal song yet.”
Isn’t that what we’re always doing? We rip into the most private parts of us, blowing them up like a crime show enhancing grainy CCTV footage. Collecting emotional evidence. Classifying the moment and the memory. And then we bake it into art. Even surface level songs share something personal about who we are and what story we’re trying to tell.

I think a more truthful statement is: I’m nervous about this song. It covers something I thought I’d never speak on publicly. It’s got real life implications for me and for those I love. It’s testing my hypothesis about virality’s usefulness (or lack thereof). It’s a sonic curveball, because while my Southern roots have clearly been watered by country music, this track is an outlier for both where I’ve been and where I’m going.

AND STILL. I’m glad it’s in the world. It’s part of my story here and now - and, from the way it’s connected with so many of you, part of yours.

It’s part of the American story, too.

I grew up in a Christian home, and being Christian was the foundation of my life for ~22 years. It’s where I first learned to sing on stage, it’s where I was imbued with the concepts of awe, wonder, reverence, compassion - all traits I’m so grateful I have. Looking back, I can’t point to any big religious trauma (aside from the odd and obvious entanglements of blind obedience, sexual purity, etc.) If anything, the church was one of the few places I felt entirely safe.

my parents, sister and I would often sing the “special” at church in 4 part harmony

Things started to shift in 2016, when most churches didn’t stand against a man accused of rape, racism, bigotry, fraud… and, in many cases, supported him outright. Despite this, my faith remained. I insisted, over and over, that I was one of the good Christians.

By 2019, still very religious, I’d left my Christian college campus and moved to Norway to pursue music at LIMPI, a music school in Lillehammer. By this point, it was becoming shameful and embarrassing to associate with the religion actively propping up Trump’s awful rhetoric and actions. Or if they weren’t propping him up, they were often effectively numbed by their prosperity gospel talk. “God is on the throne,” they’d say, as Trump separated families, attacked the free press, and dangerously encouraged hate groups like the Proud Boys.

In the meantime, I was digesting media from others who’d deconstructed their faith like Jen Hatmaker and Michael Gungor. I was falling in love with the most Christlike non-Christian man I’d ever met. I was revisiting big liturgical concepts like eternal damnation and thinking… why? Did I really think God was going to burn all of these people in hellfire forever, saved only by obedience? And why were so many of His followers, some in my own family, so quick to apply that same blind obedience to Trump, someone so antithetical to the fruits of the spirit? On the whole, Christianity was beginning to look selfish and cruel. That didn’t sound like a God I wanted to believe in. And that was a horrifying thought.

It happened as many deconstructions do. Slowly. Excruciatingly. After one domino fell, more and more followed. Some more time passed, I moved to Los Angeles, and over time and many tears, I had reconstructed a personal spirituality and deep, meaningful connection to the Divine. It didn’t look much like my old Christian faith at all.

And here I am now, nearly a decade later, a full-blown heretic.

“God is a metaphor for a mystery that absolutely transcends all categories of human thought, including being and nonbeing.” - Joseph Campbell

This decade has been nothing short of incredibly painful, blissful, confusing, and laced with grief and relief. Truthfully, I feel closer to God/Divine/Creator/Universe than I ever have, despite being less certain of what It even is. I feel WAY more connected to every soul now that I’m not staring into their eyes wondering if I need to save them from eternal damnation and hellfire. But coming from inside the church, I also know how people will see me now. Because I know how *I* judged those who “fell away.”

“She gave in to the pleasures of the flesh!”
Maybe. I think pleasure is a good thing. It’s freeing to release the shame I’ve carried for my hungry human body; to rewire this religious idea that I Am Bad and In Need of Forgiveness for my existence alone. Maybe wine, sex, weed, pleasure, flesh, can co-exist with awe, wonder, a higher plane, the present-moment, and the divine. Honestly, they’re where I find the It most often.

“She must’ve never truly believed!”
But I know I did.. And in some ways, I still do… it’s just more… woo-woo and less….fire and brimstone. At least right now, I believe the Divine lives in all of us, It animates the world, It is the life force behind love, It is the reason the sun feels good on our skin, It is how we are all connected, It is a never ending river of energy coursing through our universe. I believe we are The Universe experiencing Itself through our millions and millions of lives. How lucky are we.

For those who’ve been here too, I hope this song touches you. Thank you for listening and I’m so glad it’s found you.

For those who are still in the faith, I hope we can still find common ground in things like awe, compassion, reverence, liberty, and justice for all.

with as much love, grace, and compassion I can muster,

googs 🌱