There is a Light That Never Goes Out:Saint Morrissey and the Gospel

February 27, 1988. I received The Queen is Dead as a gift from my friend, Nathan, at my 14th birthday party. He brought it in a brown lunchbag, but I didn’t mind—because it was the greatest, most important gift I had ever gotten. And it would change me forever. That’s not an exaggeration. The Queen is Dead proved to be immensely pivotal in my sense of music appreciation. Without that gift from Nathan, I might not be here today presenting this paper on Morrissey.

Yet, in that same year the Smiths came to inspire and haunt me, my pastor was also urging me to consider becoming a pastor. Without his encouragement, I might not be here presenting a paper at the Festival of Faith & Music. Granted my pastor would not have know anything about the Smiths, and he would not have recognized what I am doing now in making a connection between the Smiths, specifically Morrissey, and the Christian faith. However, my pastor who confirmed me in 1988 and the pastor who came after him during my high school years were the ones to get me to seriously consider the ministry. Because of them, I needed to find a way to merge my love for the Smiths—and pop music (in the best sense of the word)—and my belief in Jesus.

Pop Moment as Spiritual
In 2004 interview with the British music magazine, Uncut, Morrissey said, “[The pop moment is] the second when something hits you and stirs you in the way that it would when you fell in love with somebody forever. And that still happens with music, because I find it such a beautiful form of expression. That rush of. . .the blood pounding through your arteries. That’s what it is. I think it’s joy” (Uncut, June 2004, “The Uncut Questionnaire: Morrissey,” p. 29).

Morrissey has spent his career, with the Smiths and as a solo artists, seeking to write music that will elicit the “pop moment,” an emotional rush like falling in love. As evidenced by his devotees, Morrissey has certainly created many of pop moments through his songs. While the pop moment is an emotional response, deeper within the experience of a listener is a spiritual surge. At its core, the pop moment is a spiritual rush. Therefore, the pop moments that Morrissey has created are spiritual moments.

The spiritual dimension of the pop moment is perhaps best hinted at in “Rubber Ring”:
But don't forget the songs
That made you smile
And the songs that made you cry
When you lay in awe
On the bedroom floor
And said: "Oh, smother me, Mother…
…
But don't forget the songs
That made you cry
And the songs that saved your life

“Rubber Ring,” meant by Morrissey as a metaphor for the Smiths repertoire (Goddard, 177) and the response of their dedicated followers, resonates with anyone who has been bowled over at the impact of a song’s way of touching you so deeply. There is a sense that pop songs could unleash emotions, as well as save you from being overcome by those emotions. Therefore, pop songs have a salvific effect—which is a spiritual characteristic.

Of course, if my parents had understood what I was experiencing, if my pastor could even contemplate the immediacy of the greatest band in the world and how it was affecting my emotional state, they would’ve all freaked out thinking I was losing my faith in Christ. I might have been singing along with Morrissey about losing my faith in womanhood, but I hadn’t lost faith in Christ. In fact, as far as I can tell searching back through my poems, my memories, and the ways the songs still affect me, it seems that Morrissey’s words have always stirred my faith.

That, of course, is partly blasphemy. It is only God’s Word that should stir the soul, and yet, God uses the words of hymns to point us to Christ. God uses the words of preachers, teachers, friends, and strangers to speak the truth of His Word to us. So, then, why couldn’t God have helped my faith through the words of Morrissey?

The trouble I found when I was 14 was that the pop moment was what stirred my soul, and the pop moment was far from what I was finding at church. Therefore, it was up to me to find the way that the two could interact. How could Morrissey both speak words for my melancholy while also pointing to the hope that I had in Christ?

I liken the songs now to what I have come to love about the Complaint Psalms, or Lament Psalms, like Psalm 13 which asks God so many tough questions, but in the end, clings to a trust in God’s unfailing love. In that same way, I could sing along with Morrissey about feeling “the soil over my head,” but yet, rejoice that I was singing about it rather than actually going through with killing myself. It always seemed better to sing my life along with Morrissey—to sing all the troubled emotions—rather than pretend that everything was alright. It’s why I hated Christian music. I wasn’t cheery; CCM always made me feel like I was supposed to be cheery if I was a Christian.

Basic themes of Christian discipleship (temptation, God, death, Gospel, pastoral care, and prophecy) are revealed in the lyrics of Morrissey— in the song of the Smiths and his solo work. While certainly not containing the explicit statement of faith expected in a church’s membership course or confessional document, Morrissey’s words—the pop moments which are spiritual moments—strengthen faith more than tearing it down.

The entire paper is available by download. This paper © 2007 Benjamin C. Squires. All lyrics are © Morrissey and respective publishers. Click here to download this paper.