A Visit with Scott M. Marshall, Author of Bob Dylan: A Spiritual Life

While I was praying, Somebody touched me
While I was praying, Somebody touched me
While I was praying, Somebody touched me
Must've been the Hand of the Lord.
--The Stanley Brothers

Scott Marshall in 2010.

The Bob Dylan story is fascinating in part because it has been so unpredictable. In some ways he's been a real-life Zelig or Forrest Gump, appearing in a whole range of unexpected scenes with famous personages, from Ed Sullivan and Johnny Cash to Martin Luther King, Jr. at the Lincoln Memorial in 1963, performing on the world's biggest stages, meeting presidents, Hall of Fame musicians, even the Pope, and most recently addressing the Nobel Prize committee. How he came to record three albums in Nashville, cross the U.S. with the Grateful Dead, or begin a chapter of singing Frank Sinatra covers can also be added to the "unexpected" category. But for some, the most unanticipated of all might have been his apparent embrace of Fundamentalist Christianity and the "Gospel of Jesus."

Did Bob Dylan really become a Christian?  Is Bob Dylan still a believer?

Scott Marshall, author of Restless Pilgrim, has just published a second book about the spiritual themes that run through Bob Dylan's music and career, titled Bob Dylan: A Spiritual Life. Marshall, whose book includes endorsements from Alice Cooper and former president Jimmy Carter, graciously accepted an invitation to share here a bit of his story with regard to this second Dylan-themed volume.

EN: How long did you work on this book, from conception to publication?

Scott M. Marshall: It’s been a bit of a haul, about 12-13 years. (Some of the earlier, original interviews date back to 1999-2002.) The book could’ve been out much sooner, but the manuscript encountered more than 15 rejections along the way. Looking back, with some of the things that happened after the rejections, I’m grateful for the timing now. But I was guilty of some pretty consistent grumbling on the road to publication.

EN: It’s obviously a labor of love. What was your motivation?

SMM: It flows back to Dylan’s music. Also, some natural curiosity and intrigue were in play. At a certain season I was more naturally curious about Dylan’s spiritual journey. I was—and still am—often intrigued by the strong reactions against his expressions of faith, especially in the 1979-1981 era. Or even reactions against him having some faith to begin with, or now (hearing a lyrical echo now). Not always, but often it seemed these scornful, dismissive responses communicated more about the person writing the piece than about Dylan. This served as motivation to try and piece together, in the words of a book title by the late Paul Williams, What Happened? (Or, if you will, the subtitle of Clinton Heylin’s forthcoming book—What Really Happened.) With that said, those who’ve tracked the Dylan story will know that his spiritual/religious leanings and expressions have been pretty much present since day one, and it continues to this day. But some aren’t aware of this fact; some maybe have forgotten it, or just were aware of flashes here and there; and, yes, some couldn’t care less. I’ve let Dylan’s voice loose throughout the book when, over the decades, he’s chosen to speak about topics and themes relevant to his spiritual orientation and preferences. Additionally, I was motivated to gather the voices of many others who’ve crossed Dylan’s path, whether that crossing involved a moment or two or lengthier seasons. Just the original interviews conducted and the observations and stories I collected should motivate those interested in this angle of Dylan’s career to check out Bob Dylan: A Spiritual Life.

EN: You seem to have done exhaustive research in areas not frequently covered in other articles and books. Where did you find/acquire so much new material?

SMM: Thank you for noticing. Because of curiosity and a journalistic orientation, I’ve been checking under every small stone, rolling over every large rock to see what I can find. A lot of the time, there’s barren ground or something promising leads to a dead end. But it’s very rewarding and encouraging when you stumble upon a footnote or endnote in an obscure book (or even a well-known one) which then suddenly slings open a door to seemingly another world. Or when you talk to someone whose voice, strangely, wasn’t a part of the public story before. For example, in 2000, when I tracked down Regina McCrary, one of Dylan’s singers during the 1979-1981 era (via James Hill of the Fairfield Four), she had never spoken on the record about her experiences touring and recording with Dylan. She’s since been on a Dylan tribute album that even Dylan participated in (Gotta Serve Somebody: The Gospel Songs of Bob Dylan, 2003), and she and her sisters have joined Dylan for an encore “Blowin’ in the Wind” at one of his concerts (2012). She’s spoken about her time and experiences with Dylan through a documentary (2008) and as a guest in a Christian college classroom (2014). I also tracked down Dylan’s old publicist Paul Wasserman not long after he was liberated from jail. He had some great stories. So did Peter Barsotti, one of Bill Graham’s right hand men who was on hand for the Warfield gigs of 1979-1980. One of Dylan’s former wives, Carol Dennis, even spoke to me. In the 25 years since their divorce was finalized, she’s been pretty tight-lipped, to say the least. But her love for Dylan as a person and her spiritual inclinations when looking at their shared history was apparent. I wasn’t digging for dirt, and she wasn’t offering any. Never thought I’d interview her, but the opportunity crossed my path. Some might call it luck; I wouldn’t. Sometimes these clouds of witnesses roll by, sometimes they go by so fast, sometimes slow. But they’re worthy of a hearing. In the words of that Tom Petty song, I’m trying to pick up whatever is mine.

EN: Do you find it intriguing how everyone seems to have a spin on his Gospel album and that period of his career? Some of the quotes by “experts” are almost comical.

SMM: I don’t know what particular quotes or experts you’re referring to, but I catch your drift, I think. Some of these quotes make their way into the book. For me, intrigue is a big part. In other words, the voices of those who are resistant to or highly critical or apathetic to Dylan’s gospel era—or its apparent lingering hangover—are also represented in the book. I’d like to think someone who’s a Dylan fan and a staunch atheist or agnostic, or someone who is coming from, say, an Eastern orientation, spiritually speaking, could learn or gain something from the book. I mean, I recall learning that the late Nat Hentoff and the late Christopher Hitchens were opponents of abortion, and they were coming at it from an atheistic perspective. Some Jesus followers have a hard time trying to figure out something like that, but it’s true. Christians don’t have a monopoly on moral convictions. The rain falls on everyone.

EN: What was your biggest personal take-away from writing this book?

SMM: Do not be wise in your own eyes. And the reality of heavy-duty impatience. I was, at times, like that first-century fellow Thomas whose doubts were very natural, normal. His name gave us that “doubting Thomas” label, which usually means an offhand comment with negative connotations. He had to see evidence of the wounds in the hands to believe the stories he’d been hearing. The women were crucial eyewitnesses in this patriarchal context. I’m all for logic and reason, but this journey of a book project humbled me countless times and pretty much proved there’s limits to reason and logic. Right when I thought I had it all figured out, that curve ball came. So the personal take-away was trying to figure out this idea of waiting; it’s somewhat foreign to the modern disposition, obsessed as we are with our screens, speed, efficiency, information glory, etc. Patience. It seems like it’s a rare commodity, but the apostle Paul tells us it’s one of the fruits of the Spirit. What do we do when our apple carts are upset, or thrown into the ditch while cackling thieves make away with the apples? Be encouraged, somebody. Somehow, Bob Dylan: A Spiritual Life came out of this scattershot.

EN: What was your reaction to Dylan’s receiving of the Nobel Prize?

SMM: Well, he doesn’t seem to have a Twitter account and he didn’t check in with Entertainment Tonight or TMZ, so he was perceived pretty quickly as slow to respond, unappreciative, downright rude, and God knows what else. In the end, he didn’t reject the prize. I sense he was truly surprised and honored. I wish Allen Ginsberg could’ve witnessed it all. I bet he would’ve had something worthwhile to say. Pretty sure he would’ve given an interview for the book; he seemed pretty generous and accessible. But he passed in April of 1997, before my project commenced; Dylan heard the news of his old friend’s passing while on the road and sang “Desolation Row” in his honor. At a concert in Moncton, New Brunswick, a place Reader’s Digest calls the “Most Polite City in Canada.”

EN: Your next project will be…

SMM: I’m not entirely sure, but a book on Woody Allen’s films or Joe Walsh or T-Bone Burnett could be in the works. And maybe something not for the faint of heart, like a book on the roots of Regent University (that would be the school founded in the late 1970s by the son of an Absalom, the lovable Marion Gordon Robertson—at age 87, he can still be found on television. That’s gotta be some kind of record. Most know him as “Pat”).

* * * *

I opened this post with a verse from the Stanley Brothers because one of my live Dylan CDs opens with Bob Dylan enthusiastically singing this song that is pure Gospel. Dylan's inhalation of "the Great American Songbook" included all of its streams, not simply folk, blues and classic, but also that earthy Gospel stream that fed into the others.

Sometime in the next week I hope to produce a review of Scott Marshall's book.

Meantime, life goes on all around you. Get into it.

The Gospel According to Bob Dylan, A Book Review

"Glory, glory, glory, Somebody touched me." ~Bob Dylan

One of the things I enjoy about KUMD's Highway 61 Revisited is that host John Bushey doesn't bypass or shy away from sharing the Gospel period songs in Dylan's catalog. Nor have the writers of Dylan biographies.

I've just completed the last chapter of Michael J. Gilmour's The Gospel According to Bob Dylan: The Old, Old Story for Modern Times. It's been an interesting read and one thing for certain, Gilmour has does his homework as a researcher. Published in 2011, its a fairly comprehensive overview of Bob Dylan's work by means of a spiritual filter.

Bob Dylan has to be one of the most remarkable singer songwriters ever. His music crosses all generational boundaries and has been enjoyed by people from every political stripe, economic bracket and theological extreme in all walks of life from bankers to beggars. His international audience is immeasurable. Books have been written about him by ordinary fans to Pulitzer Prize-winning journalists to university professors. In this case, Gilmour is an associate professor of New Testament and English Literature.

It's worth noting that Bob Dylan wasn't the first pop musician of our generation to get religion. George Harrison became quite public about his Hindu faith and Cat Stevens likewise adopted Islam. But neither of these men received the hostile treatment Bob Dylan endured as his embraced Christianity. My brother saw a Dylan concert in Philadelphia at this time in which the drunks in the third row (he and his wife were in the fourth) heckled Dylan mercilessly throughout the evening.

Of course heckling was nothing new for Bob. Levon Helm writes in his autobiographical This Wheel's On Fire that it was emotionally hard for The Band and for Helm personally when they did their first concert tour with Dylan after he went electric. But Helm noted the Dylan himself wasn't rattled, and even seemed to get off on it.

This is not Gilmour's first book on Dylan. His Bob Dylan: Tangled Up in the Bible came out in 2004.

At Amazon.com all four reviewers give this second Gilmour book on Dylan five stars. Though the reviews themselves are short on detail, the book itself is rich.

Gilmour's first premise, which he seeks to establish in the first chapter and explains again later (p. 131) while discussing Edgar Allen Poe's "The Man of the Crowd," seems to be that Bob Dylan is a flâneur, a French word that conveys the sense of being a lounger, an urban explorer or Boulevardier. What Gilmour suggests is that Dylan, by traveling through life in this seemingly aimless manner, is enabled to see what others do not see and in ways others may never see. The various paths his life has taken may appear haphazrd, but his eye is keenly honed and his observations purposeful. This manner of seeing reverberates through his songs, setting him apart from others much like the prophets of old.

His second premise is that Dylan has always been a spiritual seeker of sorts, had a real encounter with Christ of the Bible and has never departed from maintaining a spiritual element in his personal life which seeps through to varying degrees in his post-Gospel music period. In chapter two he sets down his argument for being taken seriously in writing this book.

David Kinney, in his book The Dylanologists, identifies a variety of archetypes for Dylanology. Some follow his concerts, others collect and share bootlegs and memorabilia. Another category is comprised of those who dig deep into the lyrics, striving to unearth greater insights and understanding from his written scribblings, whether songs, interviews or books. Another group is the religious camp who have taken pains to determine Dylan's current status with regard to the faith. Gilmour seems to be a hybrid from this latter camp and the lyrics dissecters.

Personally, I enjoy the lyrics dissecters because so many of these have such a vast literary background that they bring new insights to the geography I'm familiar with but have not yet understood. For example, many of us don't know the names of all the plants, birds and trees in our own neighborhoods, even though they are all familiar to us. It becomes interesting to learn the origins of foods we eat, the birds that congregate at our birdfeeders or the peoples in our community. The contributions of lyrics dissecters can be enlightening, though occasionally it's been pointed out that they/we go too far.

The author has done more than mine the lyrics though. Gilmour is familiar with Dylan's films as well and returns several times to the christological and Biblical references in Masked and Anonymous.

What I appreciate about the book is the author's carefulness. He goes out of his way to be non-dogmatic and he follows the threads that lead from Dylan's early work through to his most recent albums as of the time of this writing. He respects the mystery that is Dylan while offering his own personal perspectives on the literally countless places where Biblical references occur in Dylan's songs.

Whereas for the most I agreed with his interpretations, I found myself out of step in his section on "Lily, Rosemarie and the Jack of Hearts." What seems obvious to me Gilmour has cloaked in ambiguity. As a writer of fiction myself, a measure of ambiguity is designed purposefully while leaving no mistake in the story's meanings. The net result here (as Gilmour dealt with this particular song) was to make me want to go back and re-evaluate some of his other assertions.

There's much to like here though. And the book finishes nicely, too. The Appendix offers up a brief overview of Dylan's career and afterwards includes 25 pages of notes, a bibliography and a detailed index.

All in all The Gospel According to Bob Dylan was a fun read. It will remain on my bookshelf alongside Scott Marshall's Restless Pilgrim... when it's not out on loan.

* * * *
FWIW, the schedule for Duluth Dylan Fest has been announced. Here are the details. Join us.

What's your favorite period in Dylan's career? Folk? Sixties folk/rock? Mid-Seventies? Gospel? Late Dylan albums produced by Jack Frost?  

Ten Minutes with Scott Marshall, Author of the Insightful Dylan Volume Restless Pilgrim

Yesterday I wrote about Scott Marshall's book Restless Pilgrim to help lay the groundwork for this interview with the author himself.

EN: How long have you been writing?
Scott Marshall Well, while growing up in school I tended to gravitate toward writing instead of, say, the biology lab. When college was on the horizon, my late granddad (on my dad’s side) wanted to pay for an aptitude test for me. The powers that be at the testing foundation concluded writing and teaching would come natural. Years later, I thought I had backed into both a teaching career of sorts and getting a book published, but the aptitude test whispered “I told you so.” As for writing, I can’t say I’ve been consistent (although teaching for the last 12 years serves as a convenient excuse for not having written more, I know better.)

EN: And how did you get your start?
SM: Pretty much through Mick & Laurie McCuistion of the now-defunct Dylan magazine On the Tracks. They published interviews I conducted for my book, as well as an article or two (Have no idea where they’re at now; I’d love to write them a thank you letter for all their support). And then there were all those hard-core Dylan guys in England at The Bridge, Isis, and Judas!—Mike Wyvill, John Wraith, Derek Barker, and Andrew Muir, respectively. They also granted me the opportunity to have some interviews and articles make the rounds.

EN:  Who have been your influences as a writer?
SM: Haven’t consciously followed anyone’s style, and I view myself more as an aspiring writer. My strengths lie in digging up Lord-knows-what and landing some great interviews. As for enjoying certain writers, I’ll say the late Neil Postman and Christopher Hitchens are hard to beat. And Stanley Crouch captivated me after watching a 3-hour interview he did for BookTV (on C-SPAN 2). I have most of Crouch’s books, but find myself reaching for the dictionary rather regularly and haven’t been faithful to the finish line. Lastly, for all the vitriol reserved for Fox News Channel (either full-out vitriol or blind praise, it seems), there’s this guy Eric Burns who used to host their show Fox News Watch; he’s written a number of solid and fascinating books. A great journalist and writer.

1986, Dylan with Grateful Dead (photo: Ebert Roberts)

EN: How did you come to take an interest in the music and career of Bob Dylan?
SM: In my hometown of Gainesville, Florida, an old buddy Alec Lauriault was playing one of his mom’s records (incidentally, Gainesville’s home to Tom Petty; he was at Gainesville High about 16 years before we went there). I was 19 at the time—this would’ve been 1986—and it happened to be Dylan’s first greatest hits compilation that I heard. I was truly taken aback, struck by the words I was hearing, how they were coming across, the bite, the wit, the mystery. I remember one writer, it might’ve been Michael Gray, who said he envied anyone who was just getting their feet wet with Dylan’s musical canon. It’s hard to argue with that sentiment. So, anyway, soon all of Dylan’s official albums were residing in my barn loft apartment in north Florida. (Some bootlegs, too, but not too many.) By the mid to late-1990s, I was on the prowl for Dylan books and Dylan fanzines. If magazines or newspapers had Dylan content, I was interested. A print obsession emerged.

EN: Your book seems to fill a gap in the catalog of Dylan biographies. Are there other authors who have written about Dylan from this angle?
SM: Don’t know if I filled a gap, but it sure felt like it at the time. Stephen Pickering (Chofetz Chaim Ben-Avraham) was there first, with a number of books on Dylan in the early to mid-1970s (“there first” in the sense of writing about Dylan’s religious or spiritual leanings). This guy is as persistent as the day is long, and is in the deep end of some kind of pool that not too many people are swimming in. Although Pickering has little to no regard for Dylan authors like Bert Cartwright, Don Williams, Ronnie Keohane, and Jenny Ledeen, these were the folks who, in their own ways, mainly self-published on Dylan’s seemingly fated obsession with the Almighty. And since my book was published in 2002, there have been quite a few folks who’ve thrown their hats in the ring, including Christopher Ricks; Michael Gilmour; Stephen Webb; Steven Heine; Seth Rogovoy; and A.T. Bradford. Last I heard, Ron Rosenbaum was working on a Dylan book (looking forward to that one). By the late 1990s, if there was a shortage of Dylan books that contended with the man’s metaphysical meanderings, there is no shortage now.

EN: In your introduction you write, “Whether Dylan likes it or not—and he clearly does not—he is a prophet for our time.” In what way or ways has Dylan been a “prophet for our time?”
SM: My co-author Marcia Ford actually wrote that (She wrote the introduction.). Since it was my book, I should take responsibility for it…but, over 12 years on, I’m just going to say I wouldn’t write that. That line might seem true to some, but I’d be interested in how one defines “prophet.” I have no doubts that Dylan has a deep respect for the biblical prophets, from the Hebrew Bible to the New Testament. His written words, his singing voice, and even his interview voice have echoed the ideas, words, and tone of those prophets. It’s been quoted a lot, but one of Bob Dylan’s most revealing moments took place in the Midwest, in the winter of 1980, smack dab in the middle of the Gospel Tours. A 38-year-old Dylan said this to a crowd in Omaha, Nebraska: “Years ago they used to say I was a prophet. I’d say, ‘No, I’m not a prophet.’ They’d say, ‘Yes, you are a prophet.’ ‘No, it’s not me.’ They used to convince me I was a prophet. Now I come out and say, ‘Jesus is the answer.’ [And now] they say, ‘Bob Dylan? He’s no prophet.’ They just can’t handle that.” I think that quote right there, besides being fertile ground for some kind of Ph.D, sums up the whole Dylan prophet thing.

EN: What were the biggest surprises you found in your research for this book?
SM: How willing folks were to talk. Even some people who you would think would be off limits because of their relationship with Dylan (or the fact that I was a nobody with no publisher at the time). Also, Dylan’s movements and attitudes during the so-called Gospel period. He was hanging out with his fellow Jews, the vast majority of who did not subscribe to the notion of Jesus as God, Messiah—the Alpha and the Omega. There was, though, the late singer Keith Green, a fellow Jew who Dylan hung out with for a bit; he too was sold out for Jesus (Dylan played harmonica on a 1980 Green album.) Additionally, Dylan might have banned his publicist Paul Wasserman from coming backstage for being an “infidel,” but he didn’t fire him (“He’s the best in the business,” Dylan said.). Larry “Ratso” Sloman was invited by Dylan to climb on the Gospel tour bus for some shows in the Midwest (Sloman may well have been at that Omaha, Nebraska gig when Dylan delivered his rap

about the “prophet” label.) Of course, Jerry Wexler, who didn’t shy away from proclaiming himself a “Jewish atheist,” produced both Slow Train Coming and Saved.

And in 1981, while Dylan was still singing songs from these albums he invited his boyhood friend Larry Kegan on a tour (Dylan played sax and Kegan covered Chuck Berry!) So, during the research I discovered it’s not really true that Dylan was this foaming-at-the-mouth, intolerant character who was abandoning his Jewish roots. He was connecting those roots to Jesus at the end of the line, which is simply unacceptable to the vast majority of Jewish circles. I’d be willing to bet the price he paid was substantial. God only knows the fallout from very close family members and friends, but, in the words of Ron Wood, he “wasn’t to be tampered with” in this season. If you were a Dylan fan between 1979 and 1981, Jew or Gentile, he definitely was singing and speaking in very personal terms.

EN: What kind of feedback have you received since publishing Restless Pilgrim?
SM: Had a handful of complete strangers contact me to share how much they appreciated the book. That was nice. I can think of a few reviewers that were not thrilled, including a Christian magazine, a Dylan fanzine, and an amazon.com review. My favorite negative review, though, occurred in person at a book signing at a Barnes & Noble in Greenville, South Carolina. I was approached (accosted?) by a student at Bob Jones University (a fundamentalist Bible college right there in Greenville) who took umbrage with the book. As I recall, he had not read it, but who can be bothered by such details? I would pay now for a transcript of our exchange. Even though I don’t recall the details, I know he was clearly disturbed by me and/or the idea of the book. I can’t avoid the temptation of thinking it had something to do with rock & roll and the Evil One. However, my favorite moment, by far, took place at a book signing at a Books-A-Million in Anderson, South Carolina. A white kid and a black kid, probably in their early teens, arrived via skateboards. They gazed at the poster next to me that announced the book signing. They then looked at me, and simply asked if I’d sign their skateboards. I’m confident they did not know who Bob Dylan was (and they certainly had never heard of me). It was hilarious and humbling. Why? Because there was one book signing in Athens, Georgia, where the only folks who bothered to show up were my wife (she came with me) and my cousin who lived in Athens at the time.

EN: What role did your co-author play? Editor, researcher, collaborator?
SM: Besides writing the introduction to the book, she basically served as an editor. My manuscript was mammoth and detail-oriented to a fault, much more ready for a Dylan fanzine crowd than it was for a mass audience. She helped in the pruning process to make it more mass-friendly. It was a painful process as she reminded me that I needed to choose the best line or paragraph from any one interviewee (in terms of employing quotations) since we had the space limitations of a relatively slim paperback. It was brutal because of the 75 or so people I interviewed, only about half made it into the book. No one was quoted at length. With that said, in the very beginning she let the publisher know that what she had encountered with my manuscript was something unique. That helped green light the project because she had experience in the book business; magazines, and newspapers. To sum up, I did all the research, all the interviews, and the original manuscript between early 1999 and spring 2002; she came in at the end, in the last few months, and performed some heavy-duty editing.

* * * *
To purchase, there are a limited number of copies available here at Amazon.com

Throwback Thursday: Bob Dylan, Restless Pilgrim

“I’m not a spokesman for anybody’s generation. Far from it. I want to emphatically deny being the spokesman for our generation. Fame is just having your name known by a lot of strangers. People who are kind or good are the ones who ought to be famous.” ~ Bob Dylan, 1978

The 55-year career of Bob Dylan intersects nearly every major movement of our times.

For a short period beginning in 1979, he recorded three albums in what some call his “Gospel period.” Slow Train Coming, the first, was superbly produced and musically a first rate album. But the message was a departure in many peoples’ minds from what they expected Dylan to be, especially after the Rolling Thunder Revue Tour which rumbled across the previous period.

I was in Bible school when the album came out. My connections to Dylan’s music were woven through the braided themes of my own life. And as a harmonica player I enjoyed the sweet riffs with which he’d accented much of his music. I had more than one friend at that time refer to him as “Brother Bob” because he was now a “brother in Christ.”

His second album, Saved, left nothing to the imagination with regard to where Dylan stood on matters of faith. “I’m pressing on, to the higher calling of my Lord,” with its black gospel feel and passionate delivery, is a perfectly clear snapshot of Dylan's born again heart.

His third album of this period included songs like "Dead man, Dead Man" and "Watered-Down Love" which re-captured some of the venom-tinged power of songs like "Idiot Wind" and "Positively Fourth Street" of previous times. The weaker production values in this album caused critics to pan it but there were some significant messages here and some songs with great poetry.

Shot of Love was followed by his Infidels album, which moved further away from explicit declarations of a Biblical Christianity and seemed to suggest that he was now identifying with his Jewish roots.

And so, many wondered where he was at with God and faith and religion. Careful readers of his interviews could see that he never denied the Bible as truth. But questions remained. The book Restless Pilgrim (Relevant Books, 2004) by Scott Marshall strives to put it all to rest. The genius troubadour, despite his various guises, has underneath always been a seeker, and when he found the truth in Christ, according to Marshall, he never ceased to embrace the revealed mercy he found at the Cross.

At the same time, Dylan is an artist. He used all his creative powers to produce the albums of that most intensely spiritual period. But rather than repeating the same things over and over, Dylan turned his eye back to the broader culture to offer his informed analysis, interpretations, unique ways of illuminating realities. Songs like “Everything Is Broken” and “Ring Them Bells” from his acclaimed Oh Mercy album are truthful and true, powerful and honest without sounding like some of the preaching from his Saved album. "Disease of Conceit" and “What Good Am I?” from side 2 are again Dylanesque versions of Old and New Testament truths, in a modern dialect.

Marshall’s book attempts to highlight the threads from Dylan’s various songs and interviews that show his faith remained vibrant, and is inseparable from the message of his life. For this reason it is a an insightful and important addition for Dylan fans who also identify with the Gospel. The book adds new anecdotal material and understandings which followers of the artist should appreciate.

"Gotta Serve Somebody," the song Dylan opened his 1998 Duluth performance with, has been played in concert over 400 times, most frequently as the opener. I think that says something right there. Here are the lyrics from another of my favorite songs on that first album Slow Train Coming…

Precious Angel

Precious angel, under the sun

How was I to know you'd be the one

To show me I was blinded, to show me I was gone,

How weak was the foundation I was standing upon.

Now there's spiritual warfare, flesh and blood breaking down,

You either got faith or you got unbelief, and there ain't no neutral ground.

The enemy is subtle, how be it we’re deceived

When the truth’s in our hearts and we still don't believe?

Shine your light, shine your light on me

Shine your light, shine your light on me

Shine your light, shine your light on me

You know I just can't make it by myself

I'm a little too blind to see.

My so called friends have fallen under a spell

They look me squarely in the eye and they say, "Well, all is well'.

Can they imagine the darkness that will fall from on high

When men will beg God to kill them and they won't be able to die?

Sister, let me tell you about a vision that I saw,

You were drawing water for your husband, you were suffering under the law

You were telling him about Buddha, you were telling him ‘bout Mohammed in one breath,

You never mentioned one time the Man who came
and died a criminal's death.

Shine your light, shine your light on me

Shine your light, shine your light on me

Shine your light, shine your light on me

You know I just can't make it by myself

I'm a little too blind to see.

Precious angel, you believe me when I say

What God has given to us no man can take away

We are covered in blood girl, you know our forefathers were slaves

Let us hope they found mercy in their bone-filled graves.

You're the queen of my flesh, girl, you're my woman, you're my delight

You're the lamp of my soul, girl, and you torch up the night

But there's violence in the eyes, girl, so let us not be enticed

On the way out of Egypt, through Ethiopia, to the judgment hall of Christ.

Shine your light, shine your light on me

Shine your light, shine your light on me

Shine your light, shine your light on me

You know I just can't make it by myself
I'm a little too blind to see.

It's the way he sings this song that moves me, and if you would like to hear it, you can engage it here.

Photo on left taken in May 2007, image on a wall in Haight Ashbury, SF

All other images created by ed newman, unless otherwise noted.

As always, click to enlarge.

Restless Pilgrim

“I’m not a spokesman for anybody’s generation. Far from it. I want to emphatically deny being the spokesman for our generation. Fame is just having your name known by a lot of strangers. People who are kind or good are the ones who ought to be famous.” ~ Bob Dylan, 1978

The decades-spanning career of Bob Dylan intersects nearly every major movement of our times.

For a short period beginning in 1979, he recorded three albums in what some call his “Gospel period.” Slow Train Coming, the first, was superbly produced and musically a first rate album. But the message was a departure in many peoples’ minds from what they expected Dylan to be, especially after the Rolling Thunder Review Tour which rumbled across the previous period.

I was in Bible school when the album came out. My connections to Dylan’s music were woven through the braided themes of my own life. And as a harmonica player I enjoyed the sweet riffs with which he’d accented much of his music. I had more than one friend at that time refer to him as “Brother Bob” because he was now a “brother in Christ.”

His second album, Saved, left nothing to the imagination with regard to where Dylan stood on matters of faith. “I’m pressing on, to the higher calling of my Lord,” with its black gospel feel and passionate delivery, is a perfectly clear snapshot of the Dylan's born again heart.

His third album of this period began to re-capture some of the venom-tinged power of songs like "Idiot Wind" and "Positively Fourth Street" of previous times, only the target this time -- in a song like "Dead Man" – was religion. The weaker production values in this album caused critics to pan it but there were some significant messages here and some songs with great poetry.

Shot of Love was followed by his Infidels album, which moved further away from explicit declarations of a Biblical Christianity and seemed to suggest that he was now identifying with his Jewish roots.

And so, many wondered where he was at with God and faith and religion. Careful readers of his interviews could see that he never denied the Bible as truth. But questions remained. The book Restless Pilgrim (Relevant Books, 2004) by Scott Marshall strives to put it all to rest. The genius troubadour, despite his various guises, has underneath always been a seeker, and when he found the truth in Christ, according to Marshall, he never ceased to embrace the revealed mercy he found at the Cross.

At the same time, Dylan is an artist. He used all his creative powers to produce the albums of that most intensely spiritual period. But rather than repeating the same things over and over, Dylan turned his eye back to the broader culture to offer his informed analysis, interpretations, unique ways of illuminating realities. Songs like “Everything Is Broken” and “Ring Them Bells” from his acclaimed Oh Mercy album are truthful and true, powerful and honest without sounding like some of the preaching from his Saved album. "Disease of Conceit" and “What Good Am I?” from side 2 are again Dylanesque versions of Old and New Testament truths, in a modern dialect.

Marshall’s book attempts to highlight the threads from Dylan’s various songs and interviews that show his faith remained vibrant, and is inseparable from the message of his life.

Though this is not the foremost Dylan book on my shelf, it was an insightful and important addition to my collection, adding new anecdotal material and understandings which followers of the artist should appreciate.

"Gotta Serve Somebody," the song Dylan opened his 1998 Duluth performance with, has been a favorite of his as an opener these past 28 years. I think that says something right there. Here are the lyrics from another of my favorite songs on that first album Slow Train Coming…

Precious Angel

Precious angel, under the sun

How was I to know you'd be the one

To show me I was blinded, to show me I was gone,

How weak was the foundation I was standing upon.

Now there's spiritual warfare, flesh and blood breaking down,

You either got faith or you got unbelief, and there ain't no neutral ground.

The enemy is subtle, how be it we’re deceived

When the truth’s in our hearts and we still don't believe?

Shine your light, shine your light on me

Shine your light, shine your light on me

Shine your light, shine your light on me

You know I just can't make it by myself

I'm a little too blind to see.

My so called friends have fallen under a spell

They look me squarely in the eye and they say, "Well, all is well'.

Can they imagine the darkness that will fall from on high

When men will beg God to kill them and they won't be able to die?

Sister, let me tell you about a vision that I saw,

You were drawing water for your husband, you were suffering under the law

You were telling him about Buddha, you were telling him ‘bout Mohammed in one breath,

You never mentioned one time the Man who came
and died a criminal's death.

Shine your light, shine your light on me

Shine your light, shine your light on me

Shine your light, shine your light on me

You know I just can't make it by myself

I'm a little too blind to see.

Precious angel, you believe me when I say

What God has given to us no man can take away

We are covered in blood girl, you know our forefathers were slaves

Let us hope they found mercy in their bone-filled graves.

You're the queen of my flesh, girl, you're my woman, you're my delight

You're the lamp of my soul, girl, and you torch up the night

But there's violence in the eyes, girl, so let us not be enticed

On the way out of Egypt, through Ethiopia, to the judgment hall of Christ.

Shine your light, shine your light on me

Shine your light, shine your light on me

Shine your light, shine your light on me

You know I just can't make it by myself
I'm a little too blind to see.

It's the way he sings this song that moves me, and if you would like to hear it, you can take it in here. The song never fails to connect.

Photo on left taken in May 2007, image on a wall in Haight Ashbury, SF

All other images created by ed newman, unless otherwise noted.

As always, click to enlarge.