Holy War is a song that spilled out of me in a ‘stream-of-consciousness’ kind of way. I think of it as a very personal song (even autobiographical), which also works as a social and political commentary. It taps into this deep-rooted desire that we all have to give ourselves to some greater vision and cause. For most of us, it’s just not enough to have a career and make a living. We want to feel like we are on the right side of the great and eternal struggle for justice and for truth. And so we “search for a reason to waste our lives”. That’s all good. But in this desire, we become susceptible to leaders who want to clarify the struggle for us by identifying (and demonizing) an enemy.

Holy War is also about celebrating the role of the artist as he searches (“in the fog of his ambition”) for the heart of the matter, trying to understand it and express it through art. “Make some sense to me! - with images and rhythm and colour and movement indigenous to my world”.

I suppose the song sounds like it was inspired by current headlines about the dark and twisted side of faith that finds expression in self-righteous and hateful politics. But in fact it was written long ago. The personal story of the song feels like ancient history to me, but it too is the experience of many today. It’s the story of my struggles navigating through the community of faith, trying to maintain a level of independence and integrity, and feeling misunderstood. (“how can I defend myself anymore?”). Yes, we “drank the depths of spiritual pleasures”, and that was good. But I became disinterested and suspicious of the “unifying creeds and militant messages” of church leaders. I couldn’t reconcile it when non-church friends and people groups were being marginalised rather than embraced, and it struck me that “I don’t want to live in your us-and-them world; God knows there is only us”.

"Holy War"
by Andrew Smith
written by Andrew Smith © 2002, 2011, 2017 Andrew Smith

We have all drunk the depths of spiritual pleasure
And we’ve all become addicted to the song of ghosts
We get so easily waylaid by the sirens and the weather
And all those things that we fear the most

And I say, yah yah we are the ghosts within your machine,
within the fog of our ambition
Searching for a language of the soul
much moreso than any unifying creed or militant message
And we’re hard to hold,
like fog people
Searching for a reason to waste our lives

But I don’t want to fight in your holy war
How can I defend myself anymore
I don’t want to live in your us and them world
God knows there is only us

You say we stumble like the damned trying to touch it
I know. I know we st st stammer like fools
Struggling to articulate the inexpressible wonder
All of the beauty in this broken mirror
These are the signs, these are the pains of hunger,
the very mark of our ascendency
as we rise to that table, to that feast prepared
for the least of these fog people,
tasting a reason to waste our lives

It don’t make no rhyme or rhythm, it don’t make no rhyme or rhythm to me

Take me up, take me back to that misty mountain
with a beat and a melody
Make some sense to me, speak with clarity
in images and rhythm and colours and movement
indigenous to my world
They’re all rising up like incense
for these are the prayers of a wasted life

But I don’t want to fight in your holy war
I won’t define myself by what I’m not anymore
I don’t want to live in your us and them world
God knows there is only us