The Truth Is Stranger Than Fiction

words & music by Doug Howell (Summer, 1985)

all you want to hear is a sweet song
you don’t want to hear from me
just three short, painless minutes
and a hook that’s hot
crossover Christianity
but tell me, where’s the sacrifice
when we always keep things nice
following some formula conformity
you say you’re protecting someone else
but it’s really just yourself
who can’t accept your own humanity

the truth is stranger than fiction
and stranger’s truer than friend
it may hurt far worse to tell it now
but it’s gonna hurt far less in the end

now tell it
now tell it

take a look around
how can we cover up our eyes
to the sick and suffering lives
to the oppressed and murdered millions
nearby some starve for lack of bread
and we congratulate ourselves on our
quite comfortable existence

the truth is stranger than fiction
and stranger’s truer than friend
it may hurt far worse to tell it now
but it’s gonna hurt far less in the end
the truth is stranger
it’s far more dangerous
the truth is stranger than fiction
but it’s what I long to see
in somebody’s eyes tonight

so here’s another album to be labeled on some shelf
another song still longing to be heard
passed by like the feelings we must somehow suppress
choked and gagged without a single word
but here’s one humble pilgrim’s story
one search for love and glory
one statement you can take or leave
God’s truth is shouting all around us
it rains on just and unjust
whether you do or do not believe

the truth is stranger than fiction
and stranger’s truer than friend
it may hurt far worse to tell it now
but it’s gonna hurt far less in the end
the truth is stranger
it’s far more dangerous
the truth is stranger than fiction
but it’s what I long to see
in somebody’s eyes tonight

℗ © 1986 Dweller by the Light Stream Music, assigned to Creative Measures (ASCAP)

2011 Notes

I used to put out a newsletter. It was a great way to tell “stories of the road” in much greater detail than was possible in the brief song intros of live concerts. The last edition came out as I was releasing this album. Here’s an excerpt from the lead article, which was based on this song:

I had sent song No. 5 (“According to Your Word“) to a publisher, along with a few other songs. The reply I received made me a little angry at the whole Christian music business. The publisher said that what they really wanted were some up-tempo praise songs; that if I wanted any other Christian artist to consider recording this particular song, I’d better consider changing a few of the lyrics. Like the lines: I’ve spent my whole life running away from pain, thinking it wasn’t Your will. That implies that pain sometimes is in God’s will. And some people don’t believe that.

Oh. O.K. I wonder what those people do with verses like, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done” (Lk 22:42), or “it has been granted to you on behalf of Christ not only to believe on him, but also to suffer for him…” (Phil 1:29). Not a complete teaching on suffering, mind you, but enough to show us that it’s not going to be—or even supposed to be—hunky-dory all the time.

I guess I had heard the “up-tempo praise songs” bit once too often. Hence, the title song from my latest album: “The Truth Is Stranger Than Fiction.” The album, in one sense, is my response to a world where what matters is what sells; where sex is synonymous with love; where looking good is more important than being good. On another level, it’s my response to seeing these twisted values in myself and the struggle to opt for painful transformation rather than convenient conformity.

As I wrote the article, fresh in my mind was a correspondence I’d been having with a nice A&R rep from one of the LA Christian music companies of the day. She took offense at the article, and I don’t blame her, although I never meant for it to be taken personally. The article said in more caustic tones the very same things I had been telling her in response to some of her critiques. But she was not the only one in the industry who’d criticized my subject matter. She was just the latest in a long line. OK, I guess I wasn’t old enough to have a long line yet. Let’s just say a medium-length line.

The critics wanted me to put more scripture in my songs, and less about feelings. Now I certainly have nothing against worship or scripture songs. In fact, one project I’ve always wanted to do is to record my own collection of favorites from this genre. But that’s not what God was giving me to write. Why should I write something that other writers were already writing? Doesn’t it make more sense to write and sing the things God has given to only me (read: us)? But even though that argument makes logical sense, logic really had little to do with it. When it came down to it, I simply had to write what was inside of me. What was real to me. That was the only option.

Often when I was planning my set lists, I’d wonder if this or that song should really be included. Sure, I felt like singing it, but would anyone really understand it, or get anything out of it? It was just too personal right at that moment in my life. But almost without fail, someone would come up to me after the concert and mention that song in particular. It was that song that spoke to her. I see that truth borne out time and time again: the more we try to generalize and share things that will mean something to everyone, the fewer people we seem to reach. But the more personal we get, the more risks we take, the more people are touched. Strange, but true. It’s the “cracked pot” syndrome, I guess. If we pretend to be lovely pots, all glazed and shiny and new and unbroken, the power stays hidden. But the minute we’re honest, human, real, the minute we let all our ugly cracks show, that’s when the powerful, transforming light of Christ shines through. It’s our epiphany and Christ’s, all in one.

Let me close with the final paragraph from that newsletter article:

What we were all really meant to do is just to tell the truth. About God. About you. About me. In love. Yeah, don’t forget that part. But don’t sugar-coat it either, baby. Tell it to me straight. Tell it like nobody else can.