Today we read from the Book of Mumford…

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[5.14]
Alfred Soto: Revivalism, graced with brisk acoustic assurance and all the modern vocal effects money can buy.
[5]
David Sheffieck: Out-Mumfords Mumford, in the best possible way: this is kitchen-sink Americana revival, tied to a melody catchier than anything I’ve heard from its inspirations. MercyMe may nominally be making religious music, but practically, the lyric is secondary to getting the largest number of people possible moving. In one sense, this is cynical and contrary to the message it’s purportedly sending, in another, the relentless barrage of melodies makes it hard not to move.
[7]
W.B. Swygart: Done. Done with banjos. Done with clapping. Done with flannel, done with hay, done with mando-fucking-lins. Done with choirs, done with men learning lessons on being better at being men, done with putting capital letters in the middle of single words that are pronounced as two words for fuck’s sakes. Done done done done done. There’s been worse examples of all that than this, but this is the one I’m listening to at the moment, so.
[3]
Micha Cavaseno: My ancestors got read the speech on the slate of the Statue of Liberty that these clods with their hayseed stomp quote. That speech proved to be a lie as the landlords, corrupt cops, Mafiosi, elitist bankers, and various other people would enjoy looking at those Italians, Puerto Ricans, and Jews alike that make up my heritage as “unworthy.” The bitter defect of the slogan was it’s upholders didn’t mean it, and you can see through MercyMe all the same. This isn’t a reflection, a testament, an inquiry, or a remark; It’s a snake oil stomp, trying to yank people into a moronic do-si-do that keeps you swinging round-and-round with no time to stop and think for yourself. An endless cycle where you get caught in a race, and feel like you belong because someone’s got you by the wrist.
[2]
Anthony Easton: I like when the code of the new folk music, the Christianity that is hinted at and only occasionally shown in the Avett Brothers or Lumineers or Mumford, makes itself explicit. I like the earnestness — as a theologian used to ambiguity, via negativa, dense thickets of arguments, and liturgical nitpicking — over the academic detail work that talks about the influence of the Lord more than the Lord itself. After more than a decade of taking the communion and not being able to call myself a Christian, there are certain spaces where I just let the feelings of the work overwhelm me, and I become baptized in their grace. This works: the banjo is fantastic, the vocals are warm, and the hand claps are pure revival. I could pick apart the theology of this, and I can point out how it fits within a century or more of American religious excess. I will never be saved in the way that MercyMe wants me to be saved, and it takes all of my effort not to be ironic about this, but fuck it — I find this comforting, it’s warmth is enveloping, and I am ready to go to the altar.
[8]
Josh Langhoff: I lift mine eyes unto the database from whence cometh my contemporary worship copyright permissions, and already I see the page for “Greater,” waiting for someone to transcribe it so my fellow worship leaders can print it, bind it, and loose it upon churches around the world. I’ll pass. Not because it’s too Mumfordy — our only foray into floor stomping has gone well — but because it’s too emo. Two lines, “Every day I wrestle with the voices…” and “Every time I fall there’ll be those who will call me a mistake,” would ring false to those worshipers who don’t wrestle with voices and haters every day, every time. Plus, “Greater is the one living inside of me” would draw Alien references from the praise team, who tend to be the snarkiest people in church, the same wiseacres who’ve turned Twila Paris’s “Carry the Light” into “Buried Alive.”
[4]
Brad Shoup: If your worship pastor can recreate those corkscrewing backing vocals or those electrobanjo figures, good on ’em. This is a studio document made for the joy of it, a bunch of old pros let loose to create a syncopated, stomping, textured tune.
[7]