“Writing songs is about finding the time, because it’s an isolated thing. You need to lock yourself in a room to do it, in one shape or another, whether it’s an empty house or hotel room.”
Gordon Lightfoot in Nicholas Jennings, Lightfoot (Viking, 2017), 88.
I mentioned in Part 1 that, among other things, Lightfoot and I share a connection with Presbyterianism, small-town roots, a disciplined work ethic, a commitment to authenticity, and a delight in the wildness of nature. We also share a similar approach to the creative process, a wandering heart, and a profound need for Christ’s atonement.
And what’s more, even today—especially when I’m doing finish carpentry, Lightfoot’s music is still a favorite. It’s beauty, earthiness, familiarity, detailed lyrics and finger-picking have always helped me relax, focus, and do my best creative work.
But in certain past melancholy or dark moods, although Lightfoot’s music soothed my soul, it wasn’t the remedy I needed. Sometimes his songs exacerbated my depression when I needed to choose joy. Or sometimes they kept me marinating in loneliness when I needed community. By way of examples, sometimes his music kept me from prayer, a much-needed conversation with Pam, or was a pre-cursor to destructive habits like overeating, eating poorly, or viewing porn. Lightfoot had his own vices—in fact, his journey toward addiction began with using alcohol to deal with the stress in his first marriage: “When things got complicated with Brita, alcohol gave him an easy way to forget his problems—if only for a while. ‘It made me feel better,’ he says, ‘and if I felt better, I could work better.’
A lot has changed since that marriage ended in 1973. Aging, a near-fatal brain aneurism in 2004, and a third marriage to actress Kim Hasse (see above) have given Lightfoot a softer heart and a wiser perspective: “It’s funny—as you get older, you complain less because you get mellower, and with that mellowness comes a bit of humor.”[1]
Last week, we saw proof of Lightfoot’s change-of-heart in the testimonies of his children. And here’s some further evidence from his own words and those of his biographer:
- “I’ve made a few mistakes in my career, I’ll admit them. For the last many years, I’ve been in a process of atonement. Honestly, I try really hard to please, particularly when it comes to my family. I feel a really strong responsibility to them.”[2]
- It’s hard to imagine a more humble and self-effacing superstar. Ever since he’d quit drinking, making amends preoccupied Lightfoot. Sometimes he called it a process of atonement. Later, he took to saying he was in a state of repentance. Either way, the duty weighed heavily on him.”
- “He’d always professed not to be especially religious, but guilt, remorse, redemption remained powerful forces for the man who once sang ‘Forgive me Lord for I have sinned.’ Lightfoot’s ‘sins’ were a heavy burden on him… and he wanted desperately to atone. He was doing a pretty good job.”[3]
Notice how I italicized statements that reflect Lightfoot’s concept of atonement above. It is clear he knows something of repentance—that is, he has changed his mind and done an about-face regarding some of his “sins.” I want to take issue, however, with his idea of atonement and suggest that, as many have learned from him, he has yet something critically important to learn from others. Lightfoot views atonement as something he is capable of doing for himself and, to be fair, it’s a view held by even many religious people. Indeed, in most religions, the message is focused on what we need to DO to save or atone for ourselves. In Christianity, the message is focused, rather, on the atonement of Christ—what he has DONE on the cross:
- “He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for ours but also for the sins of the whole world.” (1 John 2:2, NIV)
- “Unlike those other high priests, he does not need to offer sacrifices every day. They did this for their own sins first and then for the sins of the people. But Jesus did this once for all when he offered himself as the sacrifice for the people’s sins.” (Hebrews 7:27, NLT)
And here’s the truth and good news for Gordon Lightfoot or any of us: None of us can atone for our sins, and salvation is a gift found only in dependence upon the finished sacrifice of Christ.
- “Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God…” (John 1:12, NIV)
- “But to one who without works trusts him who justifies the ungodly, such faith is reckoned as righteousness.” (Romans 4:5, NRSV)
Gordon Lightfoot is—by this world’s standards—a legend. He’s scored timeless hits, befriended Bob Dylan, and has been inducted into the Canadian Music Hall of Fame. And he’s still got it: At 80, he has a new album and 40 tour dates in Canada and the U.S. this year! Still inspiring others, I hope Lightfoot comes to accept and root his acts of repentance in the love of the Ultimate Father who has already—amazingly—provided atonement for his sins by his Son.
In conclusion, may I suggest that a little-known band from the 90’s—that, unlike Lightfoot, was literally a “Legend” in name only—might still be helpful in getting this vital issue of atonement right. Below are the relevant lyrics and you can listen to their full song here.
All alone,
You were all that I could depend on,
The failure of my life has been atoned,
And you’ve been right beside me all along…
Carry me,
You always carry me,
Carry me,
You breathe new life in me,
The love of the Father is always guaranteed,
The hands of the Father will always carry me.
“Carry Me” by Legend (Legend Seven) | from the album Legend
[1] Nicholas Jennings, Lightfoot (Viking, 2017), 229.
[2] Ibid., 240.
[3] Ibid., 278-279.