4th century BC
Plato
- Idealism — forms over particulars
- The Republic ethic: “God is not the author of evil”
Notes
Track eight starts the album's turn toward the church, and it starts with a portrait that ought to make every titled man uneasy. He cannot order eggs without his title. He cannot pour water without his collar. The role has eaten the man. This is the clergy-laity costume, sung cold - a man so colonized by his credential that I'm a preacher is the only line he knows.
The song's sharpest grief is not the title-dropping. It is who the role shuts out. The widow who came begging prayer could not pass his catechism, and she wept in the parking lot. The boy who read his Bible alone was told he could not understand, wait for me, the text needs my expert hand. The pulpit had become a gate, and the gate existed to keep the laity in the cave. That is the costume doing what costumes do - standing between a soul and the Author.
But the bridge tears the gate down, and it does it with a fact the institution cannot stop. The Author distributes gifts without consulting the seminary. The widow prayed in the parking lot and the Lord heard her without mediation. The boy read his Bible at the kitchen table and the Spirit lit the words from inside. There is no priestly stair, no chair above the pew. And the closing image is the whole correction - the Lord who broke bread with publicans never ordered the Messiah's loaf. He was a man at a table, eating. The role had not eaten Him. Drop the collar, friend, and come and sit and eat.
Lyrics
[Intro]
He cannot order eggs without his title
He cannot pour water without his collar
He cannot speak in his own voice
The role has eaten the man
[Verse 1]
He stood behind the wooden pulpit
He preached the truth he had received
He took the higher chair at dinner
And let the saints below him grieve
He told the widow at the door
Come back when you can answer me
He told the woman in the back pew
That she could not read what she could see
[Pre-Chorus]
He was the chair the institution built
He was the role the system gave
He was the gatekeeper the church paid
To keep the laity in the cave
[Chorus]
"I'm a preacher," he says to the waitress
"I'm a preacher," he says to the host
"I'm a preacher," he says to the stranger
Who never asked at all
The credential has colonized the man
The role has eaten the soul
"I'm a preacher" is the only line he knows
The collar speaks instead of him
The collar speaks alone
[Verse 2]
The widow who came begging prayer
Could not pass his catechism
He sent her home with a tract instead
And she wept in the parking lot
The boy who read his Bible alone
Was told he could not understand
Wait for me, the pulpit said,
The text needs my expert hand
The Spirit was distributing gifts
Through the body without his consent
The pulpit could not stop the rendering
It just declared the rendering bent
[Pre-Chorus]
He was the chair the institution built
He was the role the system gave
He was the gatekeeper the church paid
To keep the laity in the cave
[Chorus]
"I'm a preacher," he says to the waitress
"I'm a preacher," he says to the host
"I'm a preacher," he says to the stranger
Who never asked at all
The credential has colonized the man
The role has eaten the soul
"I'm a preacher" is the only line he knows
The collar speaks instead of him
The collar speaks alone
[Bridge]
But the Author distributes gifts
Without consulting the seminary
Through the body, through every saint
Through the widow with her trembling cry
She prayed alone in the parking lot
And the Lord heard her without mediation
The boy read his Bible at the kitchen table
And the Spirit lit the words from inside
There is no higher tier
There is no priestly stair
There is no chair above the pew
The Author renders every saint
Directly, plainly, true
The Lord who broke bread with publicans
Never ordered the Messiah's loaf
He was a man at a table eating
The role had not eaten Him
[Final Chorus]
Drop the title, friend
Drop the collar, friend
Drop the preacher's omelette
And come and sit and eat
You are a saint
You are rendered
You are the body of His Word
The Author distributes gifts
Without the institution's nod
The pulpit is not the gate
The Spirit goes where He will
[Outro]
He cannot order eggs without his title
He cannot pour water without his collar
But the Lord is in the kitchen with the layman
And the bread is broken there
And the bread is broken there
The bread is broken
There
Commentary