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“Keith’s music was primitive. I would almost call it rustic. Beverly Hills rustic.”

“You cannot understand his music apart from anger, rage. The music is meant to rattle the chandeliers. It's not meant to leave all the cups sitting nicely on the table.”

“Every success as an artist drove him further to try and establish the integrity of his soul so that he wouldn’t blow it.”

Rattling a New Generation of Listeners
by Steve Watters and Hubert Morken

A little more than 15 years ago, a twin-engine Cessna took off from a private airport in east Texas. After travelling about 150 feet, the plane nosedived into a wooded area just beyond the airstrip and burst into flames. The crash ended the life of Keith Green, a flourishing Christian musician.

Interestingly, early deaths (age 28 for Green) rarely end the influence of musicians. In fact, they tend to create a certain enigma that extends the artist’s reach — witness Elvis Presley, Buddy Holly and Jimi Hindrix in the rock world and most recently Rich Mullins in Christian music. Three additional Keith Green collections came out shortly after his death. Eventually Sparrow Records packaged all of Green’s music into two volumes (a gold and silver set) which were well received by the post-LP crowd.

This week Sparrow Records launched an 18-month campaign to introduce a new generation to Keith Green. The campaign features a four-volume collection of Green’s music, a video biography, and a new recording of his Songs for the Shepherd album by a group of current Christian artists. While the first posthumous collections were divided into time periods, the latest set is divided into four themes: evangelism, worship, testimony, and devotion. Each CD (offered at an introductory rate of only $9.99) features at least three live versions of Green’s most popular songs as well as 5-10 minutes of Green speaking on the theme of each CD.

So what can you expect if you're new to Keith Green? At first blush, those looking for ‘70s nostalgia, will enjoy Green’s “smiley face era” music — a punchy piano-driven sound that is reminiscent of Elton John as well as Captain and Tenille. Green’s hair — a bushy mop that barely fits onto his album covers — will remind ‘70s fans of Mike Brady, “The Greatest American Hero” and other celebrities who sported the “white man’s afro” during its day. Unlike “Club 54,” “That ‘70s Show” and other flashbacks to that era, however, the Keith Green renaissance is much more than an exercise in retro amusement.

A trip back into Green’s life and music offers listeners a profound review of a complex messenger and a timeless message. It reveals an artist blessed with an incredible talent that he wrestled to control (Green was a budding teen pop idol until he was bumped by Donny Osmond). A spiritual seeker who spent the last third of his life striving to continually “be more like Jesus.” A dual-edged performer who captured crowds with his passionate music and then pried apart their souls with a message that compelled and convicted.

I recently interviewed Hubert Morken, a Boundless contributor, who was touched by the ministry of Keith Green. Morken met Green in 1980 and spent time with him in concert and then in long conversations during a pivotal time in Green’s ministry. The following interview with Morken offers a candid reflection on Green’s talent and faith.

Watters: What distinguished Keith Green musically?

Morken: First off he’s a poet, and so the theme and words that come through carry a lot of weight. He also had a very simple rhythm, a very simple piano technique. When you look back on it, there’s a simplicity to it compared to contemporary music. The melodies were clear. They were pleasant to listen to. There was quite a bit of variety, too. No Keith Green song was the same.

What was different about that era of music compared to the kind of music we’re hearing now?

Much simpler. Much cruder. I’d compare Green to a ‘60s or ‘70s Van Morrison. The 80’s and 90’s Van Morrison has so much sophistication in the music — it’s artistically at a higher level. Keith’s music was much more primitive. Beautiful, but primitive and simple. Very piano driven. I would almost call it rustic. Beverly Hills rustic.

I hear a lot of Elton John and Captain & Tenille in Green’s sound. What made him stand out from them and his other contemporaries?

He was an original — he invented his music. He would even say God invented it through him. He invented his music and lyrics. So there’s a quest for originality throughout. He was not a clone of anybody. He was fiercely himself.

How was Green's music different from other Christian music at the time?

First of all he had a very masculine music. It is not a gentle kind of music. Not that he can’t sing lullabies — you know, soothing music. So in that sense it’s really very much a product of the ‘60s and ‘70s. Dylan is clearly an influence.

If you go back and look at the California sound — including the Calvary Chapel music which came out of the Jesus movement and was foundational for Christian rock — it was very soothing music. It included people who came out of drugs, people who came out of the Grateful Dead, the Rolling Stones and all the other stuff. They were recovering their lives from all the debacle. It was very much a constructive, upbeat, happy, and healing music. Keith Green was going in the other direction, if you wish. There was some of that in his music, but a lot of his music — I think in contrast to that Calvary Chapel sound — was a disturbing music.

What do you mean by “disturbing”?

It was designed to upset you. Not only with its message, but also somewhat with its sounds. That’s where you are going to get the heavy bass in there — that bass kind of rhythm. It was designed to beat you up a little bit. ... He doesn’t just want to make you feel good, he wants to express emotion appropriate to his message. There’s integrity to his music — the sound is designed to carry the message and visa versa. So if his message is an angry message he wants the music to be angry. You cannot understand his music apart from anger, rage. Rage at indifference. Rage at compromise. And the music in that sense is to rattle the chandeliers. It is not meant to leave the cups all sitting nicely on the table.

Did his popularity affect his music?

Keith Green was an artist who did not want to separate the music from the message. He was a natural artist and poet. There’s no doubt about it. He had a sense of beauty. He knew what beauty was. He knew what art was. It was built into him.

But his fear was that the art would overwhelm the message. His fear was that the art would become an end in itself. His fear was that the technique of music would replace the authority of power of the message. He was almost regretful of the fact that music was his entree into evangelism. He almost didn’t like that. He almost would have preferred to not have any music at all. But in his generation — dealing with people that were the age he was reaching — the only way to get their ear was not to come in as an evangelist with a message. The only way to get their ear was music. That was the only way you could get access to his generation. So it became his roar.

Keith knew that God was the source of beauty — there’s a tremendous respect for the integrity of art in the scripture and in Christian history and tradition. But Keith was at war with that because he feared his awareness of his talent would consume him and the rest of his ministry. He told me he never practiced the piano. In an attempt to harness pride, he’d go into the studio to record, not having practiced at all.

How did he handle applause?

I don’t think I can answer that directly, but I think the whole battle inside his soul tells you the answer without knowing directly — in that success to him was a great danger. The applause of men subverts just like art subverts. It’s pleasant, enjoyable. The great problem to Keith Green is the ease that comes with applause, that comes with comfort, that comes with success, and all those other things. He was at war with that.

Let me give an illustration from when I first met him. He came to upstate New York to Houghton College to give a concert in the spring of 1980, I believe. He knew that there were tremendous responses everywhere he went and he feared that. When he came to my house in Houghton where he stayed two to three days — kind of recovering from the road — we watched Citizen Kane. He asked me if I’d seen the movie. It was one of his favorites — if not his favorite — movie. So we sat down and watched it. It was probably his 100th time with his own VCR, early VCR days. The whole theme of the movie has to do with power subverting truth, subverting justice and the application is the battle to maintain integrity when there is so much power, and where you have a truth ministry. He was gripped by this.

So how did the concert at Houghton go?

He came with a message of righteousness, holiness, in submission to God’s standards — a message directed towards Charismatics who had settled for soft Christianity or a cheap grace. We told him that he didn’t understand our constituency, the people he was ministering to. They had heard all their lives about law and holiness and righteousness and the moral standards of Christianity — that’s all they ever heard. What they needed to hear was a message about the Holy Spirit, the supernatural. When I told him that, it threw him because he wasn’t used to that kind of problem. That night he preached holiness to the Pentecostals and Charismatics and power to the Evangelicals and Fundamentalists. It was a balanced message, but one that he was not used to preaching.

I understand that Green set a pretty high bar for Christians.

In my thinking, the only person he trusted was someone about to die. The only Christian in his view that had credibility was somebody in front of a firing squad because that person could be trusted since they were willing to die.

He looked for perfection in a Christian. The first thing he did when he came into my house was, without any permission, walk into every single room of the house and inspect it. Every single room — every bathroom, bedroom, everything. He was checking me out trying to understand who I was. About two days after meeting he looked at me out of the blue and said, “I know what’s wrong with you!” I said, “What?” He said, “Well, you don’t respect your father.” Well, we had never even talked about my father and I had enormous respect for my father.

Later that visit, in the middle of the night, after a discussion about the nature of faith and so on, my wife asked him a question. It was about 2:30 in the morning. She said, “Well Keith what is your definition of a Christian?” And he sat back in the couch and just laughed, just guffawed. He said, “You’ve got me! You have me! Because essentially the definition of a Christian I have is one that I cannot live up to myself!” It was at that point he was wrestling with the balance between grace and the work or character appropriate to a Christian. We were drawing him back to grace, saying that once again, perfection is not possible outside of Christ. And that, through His forgiveness, we have access to the heavenly Father, and that he couldn’t get away with that. It was right after that he did his album with the lamb across his shoulders (Songs for the Shepherd).

Tell us more about Green’s temperament.

There is no understanding of Keith Green unless you understand the volatility of his temperament. For example, let’s go back to the applause of men. He wanted every auditorium packed. Not just packed, he wanted people on the stage, on the platform. He wanted people in the aisles. He wanted people hanging from the chandeliers. Why? He said, “Look, if eternal stakes are present, then how can we turn anyone away?” He’s the kind of guy who would break open the roof to lower the crippled man down.

He wasn’t worried about fire codes when some in his audience were facing hell fire. He was willing to break fire codes and other restrictions because the stakes were so high. This attitude was Keith’s problem — being driven by the highest purposes of God so that the lower purposes of God are subverted. To put it very simply, he was so obsessed with the best, that the good and the average were in danger of being consumed and destroyed. This battle inside of his soul is what I think eventually killed him. He tried to defy gravity the way he defied fire codes in an auditorium. But you defy gravity, you die (an investigation of the plane crash showed that the plane was overloaded by more than 200 pounds). He would justify that, though. The balance between protecting life and making room for God’s highest purposes was very, very much at risk inside of him. That’s not meant as a criticism so much as a description of where he was.

What message of Keith’s is most relevant today?

Let me respond to this in context. I’ve just come back from interviewing a pastor in San Diego. The complaint I heard from this pastor of a Charismatic church with about 2,000 to 3,000 members is that too much of the ministry in his city and state is focused on simply filling pews for the Kingdom of God. He was quite angry about it because he felt that church growth is often justified without having a clear sense of the purposes of God for people. He was saying we have essentially become self-centered in our religion-- establishing a first aid station, or a feeding station, but with no idea of what the real gain is all about in terms of culture and in terms of what needs to be done. If there’s anything Keith Green had contempt for it was a comfort-based religion as well as a self-centered religion with all kinds of idols. He hated both of those.

Why did he hate them so much?

The answer was because he knew that he was self-centered and given to comfort — they were temptations that he completely identified with. Every success as an artist drove him further to try and establish the integrity of his soul so that he wouldn’t blow it.

I think that’s what gave his ministry authority. I think it’s what gave it power. Because he was not just speaking a message to other people. He was speaking from his own soul. He woke up in the morning and looked in the mirror and said, “you’re the guy who can’t get out of bed to help the world.” So knowing his own demons, if you wish, he was able to put his finger on what was bothering other people. In the midst of that he created room for God to move in and do things.

That’s why he refused to charge for his albums. When he became so successful he realized that he could be a multimillionaire in short order. He said, “I can’t do this! I’m going to lose everything if I do this — I’m not even going to charge for records anymore.”

Tell us about Keith’s commitment to missions.

Keith Green hated ghettoized religion. He was raised a secular person in Beverly Hills. He wasn’t about to be consumed by any kind of Christian sub-culture. The Christians he admired most were those who left the warmth of the fold and the evangelical world and went out and interacted with their world in a sacrificial manner. To him the missionary was the most normal Christian. He respected and identified with those who did missions. It was things like Oral Roberts tent ministry, where he went out to the poor and to those outside the church walls, that drew Keith’s ultimate respect and regard. The only difficulty was that Green couldn’t just abandon his audience and be a missionary himself — his ministry was getting people to do that. Part of his work was to bring an antidote. He was convinced that he had the medicine that these comfortable Christians needed.

Green now has a permanent place on the Web — a tool he never had the opportunity to exploit. Green’s widow, Melody maintains www.keithgreen.com, an area that profiles Green as well Last Days Ministries, an outreach formed by the couple in 1976.

Copyright © 1998 Focus on the Family. All rights reserved. International copyright secured.
Steve Watters, Keith Green fan since 1984, is an Internet research analyst and editor of CitizenLink, a website for active citizenship published by Focus on the Family. He received his M.A. from Regent University and now resides with his wife (Boundless webzine’s editor) in Colorado.

Dr. Hubert Morken teaches at Regent University’s School of Government (that’s where he met Steve). In addition to mingling with Christian celebrities, he has been known to match college co-eds (35 couples to date) and mentor web editors. He is presently on sabatical in Park City, UT where he’s writing a book on the politics of school choice.

This is Steve and Hu’s first collaborative work together.

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