Scriptural longing in the songs of Leonard Cohen
Review of "Rags of Light" by Brian Walsh.
In the preface to Rags of Light, Brian Walsh describes his new book as an attempt to “bring [Leonard] Cohen and Scripture together within the context of our present cultural realities and spiritual struggles and see what happens.” The book takes its shape from a series of lectures Walsh gave as part of an online course on Cohen’s prayers and songs, hosted on his website.
Walsh first sets out to show the appropriateness of bringing Cohen and Scripture into conversation. He describes Cohen as a sort of post-secular prophet who does not see spiritual matters as separate from daily life and has no illusions about people’s need for God as they face the trials of the human condition.
A broader longing
Walsh heralds Cohen’s genius of using the erotic to illuminate and express the deep longing that humans have for connection, intimacy and, ultimately, God. To him, Cohen’s work suggests that we should adopt a wider concept of eros that includes this broader longing. Cohen does this by often blurring the lines between expressing a longing for a human lover and a longing for God.
Cohen’s expressions of longing are accompanied by a theme of brokenness and loss. It may be surprising to some to see how closely his approach parallels Calvinist sentiment expressed in the Heidelberg Catechism about our need to recognize the depths of our brokenness in order to find true healing and satisfaction.
In the book’s second chapter, Walsh explores how Cohen’s Jewish identity gives him a story and context that allow for healing and wholeness because they present a God who is willing to change his mind to preserve his relationship with humanity. On the other hand, Walsh also points out that Cohen does not see the process of potential reconciliation after breaking covenant relationships as easy. His vision for reconciliation requires us to wrestle with God and admit of our wrongdoing – to confess that we are, as Walsh writes, “incurable covenant breakers.” Walsh bases these observations primarily on Cohen’s 1984 collection of Psalm-like prayer poems, Book of Mercy, and his album of the same year Various Positions, on which Cohen’s most famous song “Hallelujah” first appeared.
Music for covenant breakers
Walsh claims Cohen’s oeuvre as a “manual for living with defeat” – a manual for living with our failure to keep our part of the covenant agreement.
While discussing scriptural themes in Cohen’s lyrics, Walsh provides examples of events in biblical history where patriarchs and kings acted in ways that broke the covenant. At least two of the examples are not typically seen as causing a rift in the covenant. Walsh highlights Cohen’s suggestion that Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice his son in the song “The Story of Isaac” is a failure in keeping the covenant. Also, in the song “Lover, Lover, Lover,” Israel’s act of building a temple widens the rift between Israel and Yahweh God by seeking to limit him.
The book’s third chapter focuses how Cohen’s prophetic voice can jar us into recognition of the ways our covenant breaking has twisted and perverted created order. Walsh contrasts Cohen’s songs “The Future” and “Democracy” to reveal the tension between despair and hope in Cohen’s work. “The Future” dwells on the coming dissolution of order and unmooring of created order stating: “Won’t be nothing/ Nothing you can measure anymore.” In “Democracy” the speaker is “drunk” but, “still holding up this little wild bouquet,” implying that democracy can break through the idolatry and greed, even that of nations sure they already have a handle on these vices. In Cohen’s view, it seems, true “democracy” can get to the heart of where it’s most needed: the very places where need exists, and the brokenness of the human condition is recognized and shared. In these places, true repentance can then exist. Walsh sees Cohen’s concept of repentance as admitting “that you’re in a mess of your own making and the judgement is just.”
Prophet and priest
Walsh believes that Cohen can help to lead us to a place of repentance, like a biblical prophet. In the last chapter of Rags of Light, he shows us how Cohen can function as a priest offering us comfort and guiding us in our posture of repentance and reconciliation with a loving God. For Cohen, there is no easy out, no healing without pain. The process of sanctification and turning toward the healing offered by a loving God is “almost like the blues.” It involves pain and discomfort but ultimately offers healing, even if it doesn’t reach completion on this side of death. Light entering into the darkness requires the crack that Cohen sings of in his song “Anthem.” Revealing that crack requires abandoning the pursuit of perfection, allowing for a space where we covenant breakers can still praise God with a “Hallelujah” amid our confusion.
Cohen’s take on God did not reach a simple or easy resolution. Songs from You Want It Darker, Cohen’s final album released before his death, place accusations and uncertainty at the feet of God. Ultimately, however, Walsh highlights Cohen as a poet and songwriter who models the act of showing up and engaging with God. Any of us inveterate covenant breakers can learn from his example. Walsh appreciates that Cohen’s spirituality is one of struggle with a God who is willing to wrestle with us when we refuse to quiet our complex questions.
Walsh’s style is academic but also approachable and accessible. Rags of Light is a must read for any Cohen fan seeking to think deeply about his music and poetry while also seeking to learn what he can teach us about being a person of faith.
