Jelly Roll Is Singing About All Of Us
About selfish sheep and baring your soul on country radio
My theologians don't have tattoos.
They're men and women who have multiple degrees on their walls. Their bookshelves are lined with volumes of exegetical works. A suit and tie is much more common than jeans and a hoodie.
They memorize scripture. They can pull a half-dozen verses off the top of their heads to defend their views on any particular subject. They know Greek, Hebrew, and probably Latin.
They write books. Thick books. Books with words that make you stop every other paragraph and do a Google search.
Above all, theologians I typically listen to or read don't talk about their sin. They don't spend much time discussing what led them to a point where they needed a Savior.
Thank God Jelly Roll does.
Talk to God and tell him what I think
If you’re unfamiliar with Jelly Roll (the artist, not the pastry), let’s do a quick intro.
He’s a self-admittedly fat rapper-turned-country-artist. He’s only 5 feet and 7 inches tall but has the intimidating size of an NFL offensive lineman. He spent most of his teenage years in jail for various crimes. And it was during his time in jail when he learned he had become a father that he knew something needed to change.
Over the past year, his song “Son Of A Sinner” has blown up country music charts. It’s full of sobering admissions related to drinking alcohol, taking pills, and questioning God. The chorus itself admits as much:
I’m just a long-haired son of a sinner
Searching for new ways I can get gone
In the bridge, Jelly Roll continues his search and gives a recognition of hope:
Might pop a pill and smoke and maybe drink
Talk to God and tell him what I think
At first he’s gonna hate me
But eventually he’ll save me
Jelly Roll doesn’t have a Master of Divinity from a seminary, but he has two key points of theological understanding. 1) He’s broken chasing methods of coping that aren’t working, and 2) He knows he needs a Savior.
Talk to God when I need a favor
It’s Jelly Roll’s next major single that’s crossed over to pop stations that’s holding up a mirror to our faces.
“Need A Favor” is an almost too honest capturing of how many of us are in our relationships with God. The song’s chorus:
I only talk to God when I need a favor
I only pray when I don’t have a prayer
The self-righteous cynic inside of me wants to blast Jelly Roll. The secular view of God often holds that he exists solely to provide and answer my requests. As a confident follower of Christ, I know better. God is far greater than an on-call genie. He’s far greater than a newbie DJ at a wedding taking requests, playing obscure top 40 hits from the 90s. He’s exceedingly more powerful and wise than a Nobel Prize winner proclaiming newfound methods for saving the world.
But for us, we often whittle him down to nothing but a short-order chef. And as soon as it appears he’s stopped feeding us or granting our wishes, we stop showing up. When he plays horrid techno music instead of a Counting Crows deep cut like we requested, we walk away.
We only talk to God when we need favors. When we want something. We only pray when it’s the only thing left in our arsenal of survival weapons.
Talk to God like we’re dumb sheep
One of our pastors told a story about sheep in his sermon this past Sunday. He told of a friend from Scotland who owned a pasture filled with sheep. One day the man took his young daughter to the fence of the pasture. He asked her a question.
“Sweetie, do you think the sheep love us?”
”Of course, daddy.”
”Let’s give them some of these vegetables and see.”
The man and his daughter held out food and the sheep came right over. They chewed and swallowed up all the man and his child had. Once the food was gone, the sheep left. No matter how they tried, the dad and his daughter couldn’t convince the sheep to return without having something in their hands to feed them.
We’re selfish sheep. We only want God when he has something we want. If he’s empty-handed, we’ll find other means to get what we’re looking for.
There’s a line from my favorite Newsboys song (Christian rock band, theologians, no tattoos that I’m aware of). This line from “Lost The Plot” hits me every time I hear it:
Out among the free-range sheep
While the big birds sharpen their claws
For a time we stuck with the Shepherd
But you wouldn’t play Santa Claus
Talk to God like we really need Him
James and John, two of Jesus’ disciples, said this to Jesus: “Teacher,” they said, “we want you to do for us whatever we ask.” (Mark 10:35)
Bold move, right? They wanted to sit beside him in Heaven one day. Jesus told them “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
The reality is, we all ask for things. We want God to do this and that. We want him to perform like a circus dog and jump through rings of fire. We want him to cure this ailment, neglecting that he cured the last hundred we’ve dealt with.
The past two months I’ve asked God for a lot of favors. Mainly to A) give me a job after losing one I really thought I did well, and B) to give me answers as to why my heart stopped and I had to spend two nights in the hospital.
In my asking, I’m learning to be content in not having the answers I want. I’m trying to be content in trusting God, abiding in the pasture, coming over to talk with him even if he hasn’t packed a lunch for me.
Talk to God like He’s a Savior
I’m not expecting Jelly Roll to release a commentary on the New Testament anytime soon. I don’t think he’s going to be preaching revivals. He still uses a lot of words I don’t use. He confesses to consuming a lot of alcohol. He’s not some ideal role model for us to follow. But I do think he’s showing an example of raw vulnerability we too often are hesitant to embrace.
That being said, no matter what theologians you trust, they’re still just sheep. They still wander away from the fold sometimes, thinking they can make it on their own.
That’s why sheep should never look at the other sheep. Look at the Shepherd. The One pointing the way to go. The Shepherd may not always have yummy chocolates tucked away in his pockets for us to nibble on. Better yet, he has safety in the folds of his robe.
The 12 disciples were just a bunch of Jelly Rolls figuring out life. Just like us. We only talk to God when we need a favor. But we don’t need a favor. We need a Savior.
Thank God he has given us One.