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An Interview of Linford by Stephen Huba
Cincinnati, Ohio
May, 2000

Stephen Huba: Could you tell me how you first connected with the Roaring Lambs project? Did they approach you? Were you familar with the Bob Briner book or the concepts in it?
Linford Detweiler: We were working on part of our next Over the Rhine record last summer in Nashville. Not that it matters, but we were recording on an old bus from Texas that was one of the first ever mobile recording studios ever assembled. It was full of some pretty neat vintage gear, and had been completely submerged once in a flood, but lovingly rescued and pieced back together. Anyway the recording engineer said that a friend was working on a compilation record that had been inspired by a book and had expressed interest in Over the Rhine contributing a song. Steve Taylor, president of Squint Records, eventually dropped off a copy of the book for me to peruse. It was called *Roaring Lambs* and I had never heard of it.

S: What interested you enough to get involved in this recording project? Did you feel like the "roaring lambs" concept -- Christians not ghettoizing themselves, etc. -- fit in with your own way of thinking regarding the role of Christians working in the arts?
L: I was interested in being involved in the project initially based on my respect for Steve Taylor and his wife and some of the people they have worked with. I began flipping through the book and realized that it was addressing some issues that I had thought about a fair bit over the years. My father was a Christian minister, a very intense man in many ways. I felt I had to distance myself from "the church" for awhile after I left home, sort of let my head quit spinning, try to make a fresh start. I guess I wanted to try to figure out for myself whether or not I really believed "God" could help me make sense of this overwhelming gift we call life, or whether the whole concept of God had just been something force-fed to me from an early age. To make a long story short, I was able to eventually piece back together a faith of sorts that began to make sense to me.

Being an artist was and is very much part of this journey of discovery, and my songwriting has been a platform which has encouraged me to confess and document some of my doubts, epiphanies, questions and frustrations. But more than anything, like any artist, what I really care about most at the end of the day is doing good work which speaks for itself.

S: The book *Roaring Lambs* was posing questions about why there isn't more of this sort of soul-searching going on in our popular culture-- especially from a Christian point of departure. Why has mainstream Christianity become a movement that for the most part is pretty far removed from anything remotely interesting--let alone cutting edge-- when it comes to the arts?
L: Well, in my opinion, there are important and wonderful contributions being made to the world of literature and music and the visual arts by people of faith, and some of these artists are rooted in a Christian tradition. The problem is, mainstream Christian churches (and especially conservative Protestant evangelicals) are so close-minded and culturally incestuous, many Christians have no clue who these artists and authors are. All too often, the world at large tends to be the voice of appreciation for spiritually provocative work, as opposed to the church.

S: Did you and Karin write the song "Goodbye" exclusively for the project? Did you ever think that you'd appear with some of these other artists who, I guess, represent more of the mainstream of CCM? I get the impression you don't necessarily see yourselves as part of that world.
L: Goodbye was a song we were working on for the next Over the Rhine project. I never expected to be directly associated with some of the performers on the compilation (Michael W. Smith, Steven Curtis Chapman, etc.), but when you do something you love to do, life is full of surprising twists and unexpected rabbit trails. Over the Rhine has never been part of the Christian music market. We occasionally play a Christian festival or college, and we try to enjoy ourselves and do our best work whenever and wherever we perform, but we will always focus on connecting with the widest audience possible. Our desire has always been to introduce our work in the general marketplace, and to let it rub shoulders with the best (and worst) stuff out there.

S: Could you articulate a little of your own vision for the "job" of a Christian in the arts? What is your priority as a Christian in the arts? Does Over the Rhine have a unique calling in that regard?
L: Anyone active in the arts should focus on doing the best work they possibly can. In fact, artists must do work which transcends their raw capabilities. That is the leap of faith every artist takes. Artists should allow themselves to be swept upstream in a creative tradition that is greater than any individual or creed. They should embark on a journey which allows them to explore, begin to understand and ultimately preserve the story they are writing with their life. An artist should rediscover and reconnect with the innocent and abundant creative impulses which all children exhibit. Good art will make the world seem wider, make us breathe a little more deeply, splatter anyone within earshot with joyful paint. Good art expands the human spirit. Bad art shrinks the spirit. Sometimes an artist has to scream to shatter the numbness which creeps into our lives. Sometimes an artist has to whisper to get us to lean in closer and hear the truth. Sometimes it's all about embracing inky darkness and moving beyond deep-seated fears. Sometimes it's about bathing in light and being clean for once. Art is about opening our eyes, and not missing the one tiny detail that illuminates the whole. Art is irresponsible and dangerous and unpredictable and vivid. It is ultimately a celebration of being alive. A celebration of being human.

Art is not about advancing a system of beliefs. It's purer than that. From a spiritual perspective, all good art is about the moments where prayer and praise get in bed together.

I hope this answers the question.

S: You've played at the Cornerstone Festival yearly since 1991. Is that the kind of venue you feel more comfortable in?
L: My favorite venue for an Over the Rhine show is an old theater, or an outdoor amphitheater surrounded by tall trees. Cornerstone Festival is not about being comfortable, it's about showing my respect for an organization that feeds, clothes and houses the homeless and elderly of Chicago. When this organization invited Over the Rhine to perform, we were happy to support these people and their work.

S: You told Cornerstone magazine in 1997 that you've struggled with your place within institutional Christianity. "I don't feel I'm a typical Christian," you said. Has your thinking on that subject developed any further since then? Do you feel like you have a place where you "fit in"?
L: I'm still working it all out, but "fitting in" is no longer a priority. Being real is a priority. Honest. A good friend. A generous human being. Trustworthy. Being the sort of person that's comfortable hanging out with lonely old ladies in a nursing home--these are some of my priorities.

I have a few friends that are my mentors that accept and support me unconditionally. When I am with them, I fit in, I guess. I fit in enough to be very grateful for the opportunity to grow old with them. We will bury each other, I suppose. I meet at least once a week with these five other men of which I speak. All of these men are interested in asking big questions about truth and beauty and the life of the spirit, and they all happen to be artists, writers, etc. Yes, I guess getting together with these guys is my idea of "church" right now.

S: I've noticed certain references to spiritual figures in your music ("Conjectures ...," Merton; "Circle of Quiet," L'Engele; "Till We Have Faces," Lewis) but you don't seem to go out of your way to draw attention to those influences. Am I reading those references correctly, and can you talk a little about the spiritual/literary mentors who have been most influential in your songwriting? (I think we share an appreciation for Flannery O'Connor.)
L: I wrote this several months back:

I used to think that if by some turn my father had not decided unexpectedly to buy a piano when I was seven, I would have floundered my way lost through life. Now I know that if there had been no piano, there would have been only words and I would have set about the task of writing my life up and down the leaning world, stealing the moon for a desk lamp, the black of the night sky for ink, the clouds for paper, and you, my love, for plot.

Words and books have been exceedingly important to me all my life. In fact, when I quit the church, people like C.S. Lewis, Frederick Buechner, Thomas Merton, Flannery O'Connor, Annie Dillard and others were almost missionary-like in their ability to instruct, delight and carry me at times. They certainly helped keep me interested in spiritual issues and dilemmas.

It's odd, whenever people are interviewing me as a member of Over the Rhine, asking for my "influences", I always think of authors before I think of musicians. Always have. I don't make a big deal out of it, but there are occasional literary references in the recordings obviously.

I have been doing some writing outside of the band, and I guess I included that first paragraph in answer to this question because I've come to a place in my life where I could almost go either way. I love music, but I find more and more satisfaction just writing. It's a real challenge and it's fun to try to squeeze my words into a four minute pop song, but I've never been very good at it. I've been giving myself the gift of a broader pallette of late. In fact, Image magazine, a journal of the arts and religion, has asked me to contribute an essay that I am currently working on. Don't tell my record company. We're supposed to be finishing our new album.