The Jesus Record

the Jesus Record

Rich Mullins and a Ragamuffin Band

"And when (Jesus) had opened the book, he found the place where it was written, ‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised, to preach the acceptable year of the Lord…’"

…"And he began to say unto them, ‘This day is scripture fulfilled in your ears.’" Luke 4:17-21

Rich Mullins was a lot of things before he left us – exceptional artist and songwriter, rough-around-the-edges friend, passionate student, generous and kind mentor, gracious and gifted teacher and missionary, devout church reformer. But mostly, in and beyond all of these things, he was a lover of Jesus.

Every song that Rich Mullins sang, every word he spoke, every sentence he wrote, and everything he did followed from his conviction that Jesus was exactly who he claimed to be: Savior, Lord, Deliverer, and (perhaps especially) the one who brought "good news to the poor." Anyone who spent much time with Rich understood that he had grown to believe in a Jesus many Christians rarely consider—the Son of God who abandoned power and brought salvation to the broken, weak, and outcast.

In the writings of his friend, author and speaker Brennan Manning, Rich found a name for those Jesus loves: Ragamuffins. Rich knew he was one. And when he gathered together a band of like-minded, like-broken kindred spirits and fellow travelers – Rick Elias, Jimmy Abegg, Mark Robertson, and Aaron Smith, he named them the Ragamuffin Band. Rich was convinced that these established and highly acclaimed musicians had never received their due, and he felt that together they could make music that was close to the heart of Jesus.

"None of us were forced to be Ragamuffins to make a living," says Elias. "We were and are Ragamuffins because we found a home with each other and with Rich. He gave us a place where we could be ourselves, where we were respected as artists, and where we could grow together in Christ."

For the past five years, Rich toured and made records with the Ragamuffins. If you talked to Rich about them, or ever listened to them rehearse, it was clear that this was much more than his backup band. They were first and foremost friends on his journey to know, love and share Jesus.

The Record

It is only appropriate then, and wonderful too, that the last work Rich left us is The Jesus Record. The most unified, mature collection of his abbreviated career, The Jesus Record represents the culmination of Rich’s artistic mission: a group of extraordinary songs, recorded by his best friends and band mates, which together make up a surprisingly subtle extended mediation on the person, message and mission of Christ.

A Record That Was "Needed"

For several years Rich had talked about making an album that would unfold the Jesus that we quickly gloss over on our way to church or Christian concerts. He wanted us to see the raw, rough Jesus who had dirty fingernails and who hung out with all the wrong people and loved them just as they were. It was a record, he said, that was "needed," because for too many of us, Jesus had become domesticated, ordinary, and predictable. And necessary because those who believed Jesus to be otherwise often felt abandoned and alone in their convictions. Such was the nature of Rich's work: he sought to at once challenge and heal, stir and to comfort, agitate and settle.

And so, last summer, after nearly 15 years of making records, Rich sat down in the Navajo hogan that was his home and spoke with his band, his new record company, and his manager about what he wanted The Jesus Record to be.

"He demanded that we focus on Jesus," says Robertson, "and not just in terms of subject matter. He wanted this project to make us better, more faithful as a band and as individuals."

"Rich knew exactly what we needed," adds Elias, who produced The Jesus Record. "He knew this band well, he was a Ragamuffin too, after all, and he knew that we needed Jesus as much as he did. He wanted to make a record that would force us all to spend time focusing on Jesus."

Rich had settled on ten songs--eight that he had written or co-written; one, "Surely God Is With Us," written by Mark Robertson with Mullins' best friend Beaker; and one, "Man of No Reputation," written by Rick Elias. He gave Myrrh Records vice-president Jim Chaffee a copy of the songs on a cassette that he had crudely recorded on a boombox at his church on the Navajo reservation where he lived.

It would be, he said to those gathered, his best record to date. The tape, in spite of its primitive nature, was extraordinary in and of itself. Mullins performances of the songs are playful and vivid and passionate, and in a very real way, urgent. Even alone, recording demos, Rich could not go through the motions. The demo (which is included in The Jesus Record) is a testimony to Mullins' nature and commitment.

The Jesus Record would be, Mullins insisted, a Ragamuffin's record. In fact, he originally conceived it as a disc where all the band members shared vocals equally.

"Rich was so unselfish," Abegg remembers. "It simply never occurred to him to view us as anything but partners in the process. We were peers, and because of that, everyone in the circle had an equal say and share. He simply wanted to empower us--to use his own platform to lift us up."

As they sat together, however, the band members argued that while, yes they were indeed a band of equals, Rich needed to view himself as their "lead singer."

"We knew if Rich sang the songs, more people would buy the record," laughs Elias, "but I guess he got his way."

In those discussions it was decided that Elias would produce the record.

"Rick was really the only choice," says Robertson, "because he understood both Rich's music and loved Rich the man. He respected that Rich wanted to make music accessible to the mainstream, but also was able to make it with an edge. And perhaps more importantly, he shared Rich's desire to make the record about Jesus, not about the band or Rich himself."

Grief

Pre-production on the songs was only a week away when a tragic accident on an Illinois road took Rich's life. The Ragamuffins took refuge in each other, trying to grieve as Rich would have wanted. They prayed together, gathered for the kind of Irish wakes that Rich often celebrated, played his songs, laughed at each other's "Rich stories," and wondered what was next. The Jesus Record was foremost in their minds. The Ragamuffins met with Myrrh executives and wondered what to do with the songs. Everyone who had heard them believed that they needed to be heard. The question was how.

"We didn't want to exploit either his memory or these songs simply for sentiment or profit," says Chaffee. "We knew we needed to be wise and tender with this gift Rich had left us. More than any other project we were involved in, we knew that if we were to proceed, everything we did had to be grounded in Christ."

In this spirit, the Ragamuffins and Myrrh decided to proceed with the project as planned. The Ragamuffins would record the songs themselves with some of Rich's closest musical friends, the band would have full creative freedom, a portion of the proceeds would directly benefit Rich's work with young artists on Navajo reservations, and their version of The Jesus Record would be released with an enhanced version of Rich's "original" boombox recording.

"Rich told me," says Robertson, "that this was the only one of his records that he felt had to be made. It was that important to him...I guess it was just like him to give it away."

The Studio

Once in the studio, the Ragamuffins started by again listening to the songs and focusing together on their center: Jesus. What they found were songs full of the tensions that Rich felt so keenly when he approached Christ; songs that reflected the joy and challenge and fear and excitement of confronting a real, flesh and blood savior.

In that tension, the record grew to become a blending of Rich's view of Jesus, his theology and of Rich himself. "I suppose there was a temptation to make a tribute--a big, somber record designed to play on sentiment," says Elias. "But faithfulness to Rich's vision demanded that the record be a juxtaposition of reverence and hilarity and intimacy and struggle, because that is how Rich understood and responded to Christ."

"We simply didn't have the luxury to make any compromises," says Robertson. "We knew how important these songs were to Rich. And we knew how dear they had become to us--nearly as dear as Rich himself. It was a massive responsibility."

Because of this responsibility, great care was given to The Jesus Record's guest list. Amy Grant and Michael W. Smith called and offered to sing before the record company had even decided to go ahead with the project. "Their inclusion was a no-brainer," says Elias with a smile. "They were friends of Rich's that he loved and who understood the heart of his art." As the Ragamuffins spent some more time with the songs, the choice of other artists also became easy: Ashley Cleveland was Rich's favorite singer, and they had toured together extensively. Phil Keaggy was a hero of sorts to Rich, they had grown to be friends, and he was perfect for one of the songs.

"At that point," says Elias smiling, "we knew we had enough. We weren't making We Are The World, after all, we were making Rich Mullins' record."

And so, The Jesus Record became a kind of six month journey for the Ragamuffins, as they began the delicate tasks of helping the listener both confront the heart of the Gospel in these songs and respond to it honestly, staying close to the heart of what Rich had hoped for the record's sound, and not dismissing any expectations that Mullins' fans might hold.

"Being in the studio for this record," says Abegg, "was one of the loneliest experiences of my life. I mean, we were all together. Everyone was there who needed to be. Except Rich.... I kept expecting him to walk through the door and pull up a chair."

The Songs

The disc begins with Elias singing the anthemic, lushly produced "My Deliverer," Mullins' finely-tuned and achingly poignant hymn of yearning and faith. Complete with a full orchestra, arranged by Tom Howard, and recorded in London's Abbey Road Studios, Rich hoped that the song's worship chorus and confession of need, could create the same sort of "feel" that "Awesome God" stirred, but in the context of a more mature, biblically grounded reflection. Like many of Mullins' songs, it is set against the backdrop of history; this time in Mary and Joseph's flight to Egypt and their longing for the deliverer who was their own child. Added against this backdrop is Mullins' own longing for personal deliverance, and his confidence that in Jesus it has come. The song's refrain sets the record's theme in full view, contrasting Rich's sense of his own brokenness with his trust that in Christ, God's grace is ever near.

"I will never doubt his promise though I doubt my heart, doubt my eyes... my Deliverer is coming/ my Deliverer is standing by."

"Surely God Is With Us" follows, with Robertson taking the lead vocal. The song both thematically and stylistically juxtaposes the majestic expectations of the opening track with the scandalous notion of God wrapped in flesh hanging out with sinners. For those who had ever seen Mullins' eyes twinkle when reading the Gospels, it is easy to understand why he chose the song. This is the Jesus that Mullins loved.

"There's rumors He even thinks himself a king/ of a kingdom of paupers, simpletons, and rogues/The whores all seem to love Him and the drunks propose a toast/And they say... Surely God is with us...."

"Nothing Is Beyond You" is another shift, this time moving from the radical notion that God became flesh to the even more radical idea that a man could be God. Sung by Rich's close friend Amy Grant, the song is a classic Mullins ballad, perfectly suited for Grant's plaintive vocals. Rich loved to speak about the "relentless love" of Jesus (another phrase he borrowed from Manning) and this song, a messianic reading of Psalm 139, is a glorious exposition of that love that pursues us not only "if I made my bed in hell" but also "through all my pain and rage."

Says Grant, "The line in this song that slayed me the first time I heard it, and slays me every time I hear it, is, "I cannot explain the way that you came to love me, except to say that nothing is beyond You." Rich's honesty addresses our greatest fear -- that somehow, in the final analysis, we might find ourselves just beyond the love of God.

That's the greatest fear we can know. Rich takes the focus off of our unloveableness and reminds us that nothing is beyond God. This is good news."

All of the Ragamuffins share vocals on the front-porch/country-rock of "You Did Not Have A Home." Grounded in raw, folk instrumentalization (with dobro, harmonica, and accordion) the song again takes us back to and reinforces a crucial (and deliberately subversive) Mullins theme--the radical emptying of Jesus in the incarnation, and focuses on the Christ who was homeless, wifeless, and who refused to come in power and might.

"You came without an axe to grind/ Did not tow the party line/ No wonder sight came to the blind/ You had no stones to throw.... Cause the world can't stand what it cannot own and it can't own you 'cause you did not have a home."

Anchoring the middle of the record is the quietly lush "Jesus." Sung by Ashley Cleveland in hushed, nearly broken tones, the song turns the record toward the heart of Mullins faith. Full of confession, need, self-doubt and yearning, it is a cry of faith for the relentless tenderness of Jesus to walk with, touch, calm and heal us.

"Jesus they say you spoke and calmed an angry wave/ That was tossed across a stormy sea/Please teach me how to listen, how to obey/ 'Cause there's a storm inside of me."

"Ashley's vocal on 'Jesus' is among the best performances I've ever heard, anywhere, anytime," says Elias. "She inhabited the song in a way I didn't think possible. It was humbling."

"All the Way To Kingdom Come" features Phil Keaggy's joyous lead vocals joining the Ragamuffins in a mop-top shaking, Beatle-esque romp that may be the most whimsical music Mullins ever wrote. The theme is equally celebratory with its playful juxtapositions of our expectations for a savior and what Christ brought:

"We were looking for heroes he came looking for the lost/We were searching for glory and he showed us a cross/ Now we know what love is 'cause he loves us all the way to kingdom come."

Mullins had often told anyone who would listen that Elias' "Man of No Reputation" was his favorite song. Written five years ago and featured for the past several years at Ragamuffins' concerts, it was one of the first songs chosen for the project. A meditation on St. Paul's hymn to Christ's self-emptying in Philippians 2, the song in many ways weaves the record's themes of Christ's "weakness," relentless affection, and the triumph of grace together into one gentle song. Mullins knew the song had all the marks of a contemporary classic, and had insisted that it be heard.

"I think Rick gives the performance of his life on this song," says Abegg. "It is some of the most focused, soulful singing I've ever heard."

Another Mullins' friend, Michael W. Smith, joins the Ragamuffins on "Heaven In His Eyes" in what might be one of the singer's gutsiest vocals to date. A deceptively complex (and bittersweet) song that examines what is perhaps the most beguiling aspect of the incarnation--that many did not (and still do not) recognize Jesus for who he was, and that he had to die to fulfill his Gospel.

Elias sings what is easily the most difficult song on The Jesus Record. "Hard To Get" is quintessential Mullins, a Psalm-like prayer of lament against God's silence, a silence that too often feels deafening. It is as courageous and bold a lyric as one can imagine in the too-often sugary sweet world of Christian pop, and one gets the feeling that Mullins wrote these lines as much for us as for himself. It's as if he knew we needed help telling the truth about our experience with Jesus to ourselves and to Jesus himself. And so he gave us a prayer to pray when we feel like praying doesn't matter.

The Jesus Record ends with all the guest artists joining the Ragamuffins in a new Mullins sing-along, "That Where I Am, There You May Also Be." With lyrics constructed entirely of excerpts from the Gospels, the song is a simple reminder of the nearness of God that the incarnation brought, and the hope we have because of it. Its encouragement is made especially potent by the inclusion of Mullins' boombox vocals, along with the applause of a young Navajo boy who had wandered into the church as Rich finished his primitive demos. Appropriately, the record fades with the sounds of Rich's hammer dulcimer playing "Nothing But the Blood of Jesus."

The Future

There is triumph and tragedy in The Jesus Record, just as there was in Rich Mullins' life. The tragedy is ours--we lost Rich at the peak of his skills and the height of his artistic passion, and just as many of his ventures in missions outreach were falling together. He would hate our sentiment, but we can only grieve his loss. But the triumph is ours as well. Rich's vision of a record that draws us to Jesus survived to challenge and encourage us.

And in its survival, there is opportunity for his vision of outreach to native children to prosper beyond his dreams. Perhaps that alone--being drawn to Jesus in a new way and being enabled to share him with those we often ignore, will be enough to help us in our grief.

Growing Still
By Rich Mullins

September/October 1996 edition of Release Magazine

"Moses grew and became a man. He visited his people and saw..."

Exodus 2:11, besides being part of the great account of God delivering Israel out of its bondage in Egypt, gives us a few little glimpses into the character of Moses, the meaning of maturing and those microscopic miracles that play into the Cecil B. DeMille ones.

"Moses grew..." It is so nearly cliche that you hate to say it, but Moses did not come out of the womb, nor was he drawn out of the river, equipped to fulfill God's plan for him. Moses grew. This may be the best thing that can be said about any of us - not that we " have become" - but that we are continually " becoming." Growth is a sign of life, and if Jesus said that He came that we might have it, it must be good.

Moses' growth did not happen as we might wish: after " becoming a man," he was still seized with rage, fear, and all those things we'd rather outgrow. These flaws along the way make it difficult to measure growth, and that difficulty makes it tempting to give up. But to give up - to refuse to grow - is to die. That's maybe why Christ said not to judge.

" ...and became a man. He visited his people..." The mature person is one who is ready to see himself in a context bigger than himself. Many of us want to imagine that we need to find ourselves - a notion that may be true in a limited sort of way. Many of us think that we must define or invent ourselves - possibly equally true but in an even more limited way.

When Moses visited his people he was beginning to accept himself, not just as an Egyptian prince, but as the heir to something far greater, far grander than a crown. He was beginning to accept himself as being part of a people (in his case, a " chosen people" ).

The identity given him by the palace occupants could never give him what everyone needs- a sense of who we are. As a man, maybe he had outgrown his reputation and become restless among peers. So, he visited his people and began to know himself.

" ...and saw..." In Carl Sandburg's Rootabaga Stories, the Potato Face Blind Man plays an accordion and wears a sign that says " I'm blind too." Most of us have trouble seeing. Clear vision is blocked by ungrounded expectations (both the fearful kind and the grandiose kind), by narrowness, and by a lack of faith. When Moses " saw," he had come to a place where he was able to set aside his willfully constructed world and enter the one that existed independently of his wishes. What he saw in Egypt would be stretched by what he would come to see in Midian, but here was the beginning of what would end with his view of the promised land.

And so, I hope you too will grow, though you - like Moses and me and everyone I know - may have flaws. I hope that you as a part of a chosen people know who you are beyond who your peers suspect you to be. And I hope you see, that you recognize suffering and that you someday see the salvation for which we wait.

Copyright 1995 by Release Magazine, reproduced with permission

Pretty Good Genes
By Rich Mullins

November/December 1996 edition of Release Magazine

In Matthew 16:13-19 we have the fullest account of the conception of the church (in the same way that we often look at Acts 2 as being an account of her birth). Mark and Luke give briefer accounts, but I'm not going for brevity right now; I'm looking for significance. And don't worry that John doesn't include this conception in his gospel. He also did not include Elizabeth's conception of John or Mary's conception of Jesus.

I call it a conception because for all that we don't know about conception, we at least believe that at that moment all that we are made of and all that we will grow into, is set or founded. A conception is that moment when something unique, dynamic, and alive is defined. Something old does not change, something that never was before begins - a new possibility becomes real and takes on its own identity.

This is what happens in Peter's confession that "Jesus is Messiah, Son of the Living God" and in Jesus saying that was the defining moment for the Church He was beginning to build.

Jesus asked, "Who do men say that I am?" and at least four answers were given by at least two apostles. Those who answered this question are not named, possibly because the answers - though they might be accurate - were highly unremarkable. They originated in reason, not in revelation, and Peter's answer would knock them flat. Anyway, as soon as He got His answer, Jesus dropped the whole discussion as if to say that the world He made and that would not receive Him would never be allowed to define Him. No brilliantly composed picture, no delicately balanced compromise about Him would do. He would not refigure Himself to fit their miscalculated equations of disfigure Himself to fit their undersized frames. The ideas that the world had (and still has) about Him were of no interest to Him because they were, and still are, irrelevant to who He was, is, and ever shall be. Maybe He asked because He knew that the answers would provide a bleak and bland backdrop against which the answer to His next question would really pop.

So He asked, "Who do you say that I am?" Here, Peter distinguished himself answering not by reason but by revelation, "You are Messiah, the Son of the Living God!" To this Jesus answered (and here I'll ask you to endure my somewhat lopsided but maybe not altogether inappropriate paraphrase), "You blessed little Pebble! Your answer didn't come from this lost little world, but it came from back Home. Now you're a rock and on this rock I'm building my house..."

People have long tried to distinguish between Peter and this confession, but (not that we can settle that debate here) who can sever a man from his beliefs without destroying both?

What is conviction if it is disembodied? What remains of a man when he is left without his thoughts? Apart from each other, both are nothing. In their union there is something that never was before - something unique, dynamic, and alive. And in this union, the stuff of which the Church is made and the thing that - if she does well - she will grow into, is set.

Here at Peter's confession, the truth of heaven connects with human experience and the Church is conceived.

And just as the heavens declare the glory of God, the Church pronounces the name of His Son. And as the skies proclaim the work of His hands, the Church testifies to the work of His Messiah. Red blood and flesh confess Jesus' Lordship, then drop the ball and are baffled by the immensity of that confession. People who are not pointlessly perfect receive an unattainable revelation and then misunderstand and betray the Truth. They foolishly divide and become divisive and yet He makes them one. They stumble and limp and sometimes turn to lesser gods and then are embraced by the One they've abandoned. As Paul says, "We have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God..." and this confession that Jesus is Messiah still changes pebbles into rock and as long as the Church confesses, she will continue to be what is in her genes to become.

We've got pretty good genes. We'll do well to grow into them.

Copyright 1996 by Release Magazine, reproduced with permission

The Communion of Saints
By Rich Mullins

September/October 1996 edition of Release Magazine

In one of those especially poignant passages that so frequently and powerfully mark the gospels and charge them with the character of Christ, we encounter Jesus and His twelve in a moment of deep sorrow followed by a great flash of glory. (And does glory ever come except on the heels of sorrow?)

Jesus has just alienated many of His disciples by telling them that they must "eat (His) body" and "drink (His) blood." This directive must have been even more startling to its original audience than to us. They did not hear it through the filter of some 1900 years of systematizing theology contrived to intellectualize and cushion us against the blow of His outrageous command. They hit head on and felt the full force of it and they were repulsed.

Here, Jesus, who was habitually pushing the margin of reason into the realms of faith, crossed the line. Here, He ventured too deeply into the uncharted territory of the kingdom of God, articulated too clearly the good, yet disturbing news of that kingdom, and called for an obedience too radically opposite the reasonable sensibilities of many disciples at that time. He called them to follow too far outside their well-defined comfort lines...and they ran away in disgust or stood paralyzed in terror as Jesus walked on - walked on into the blinding light of the liberating truth He had just spoken.

The twelve stayed with Him - maybe reluctantly, maybe for reasons that they didn't know. But when Jesus asked that heartbreaking question, "Will you also leave Me?" it is Peter - the impetuous apostle - who gives us the secret to the hidden heart of discipleship:

"Where else can we go? You have the words of life!"

Peter may very well have been as perplexed over the point of Jesus' teaching as those who abandoned Him, but he was not confused about the person Jesus. Peter might have misunderstood His methods and mission, but he was certain that Jesus was Messiah. He may have been in the dark about where he was going, but he knew that in Jesus there was light. He may have been scared nearly to death by the demands of discipleship, but he knew that in Jesus there was life. Just before this confession of his dependency on and the sufficiency of Jesus, he had sunk in the storm of intimidating waves and been rescued by the hand of a Master who knew his weakness and the shallowness of his faith (Matthew 14:22- 31).

There is much that we are intimidated by in our walk: doctrines that run counter to our cultures and egos, tasks that seem nearly insurmountable, the weakness of our wills and the seeming severity of God's. We can get lost in the endless debates over the mechanics of Christianity and sink in the despondency of our powerlessness to grasp the mystery of grace, but in the midst of that, we must do what the writer to the Hebrews advised and what Peter did, "Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the Author and Finisher of our faith." It is He who calls us and He who enables. His body is our bread; His blood our drink. He has the words of life.

Copyright 1996 by Release Magazine, reproduced with permission
Reproduction of this material in any form without written permission from Release magazine is prohibited.

Oct. 21, 1955 – Sept. 19, 1997

On Sept. 19, on a road just outside of Peoria, Ill., a radiant light and life was extinguished. Rich Mullins, an inspired artist and a passionate, tireless witness died instantly in a tragic car accident, ending a life and career that can only be described as legendary.

Though thousands have shed tears over the loss of this visionary musician, underlying the sadness is joy that Rich is finally where he most desired to be, in the presence of God.

Rich was an unassuming star, someone who never craved center-stage. Yet, his God-given gift to put into words and music the deepest emotions of the heart often thrust him into the limelight. Nominated for 12 Dove Awards, Rich turned down the high life of a celebrity and chose instead to take a vow of poverty and live among the Navajo Indians, where he taught music to children.

Some of his most enduring songs are now sung more by others than they were by Rich himself. "Our God is an Awesome God" and "Sing Your Praise to the Lord," and "Step by Step" have become staples of worship for many churches around the country and the world.

While Rich’s soul now lives in eternity, Rich will live on with us through his music. Those who seek to know Rich Mullins have to look no farther than the poignantly honest lyrics of his songs. His songs are soaring praises to a God who has no limits to his love. They are also heart wrenching confessions of a man, like any other, caught in the throes of a sinful nature and a fallen world. His songs bring tears because they give words and shape to the struggles we all face. And they give hope. Because at the end of every confession, Rich returned to the mercy of God and the wonder of his redeeming love.

"Sometimes I think of Abraham
How one star he saw had been lit for me
He was a stranger in this land
And I am that, no less than he
And on this road to righteousness
Sometimes the climb can be so steep
I may falter in my steps
But never beyond your reach"

Rich himself and those who knew him can give the best picture of who he was, so we invite you to share the memories and the inspirations of this great man. For several years Rich wrote articles for Release Magazine, several of which we have included in this tribute. In addition, we have included an article by Reed Arvin, Rich’s friend and producer.