“Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.”
―
The art of Leonard Cohen has recently made an increasing impact within me. The first time I was exposed to his music was by a friend who burnt me a mix CD (which sadly is a dated sentence at this point in 2018). At the time, I thought myself a musical scavenger, both diverse and mature. Yet, I was unable to get beyond his noticeable vocals, which now have endeared themselves to me. His was an art of grit and welcomed paradox. In that phase of life, I simply could not appreciate it fully, or perhaps I had not lived enough to relate.
Cohen was a theologian. He beautifully weaved in and out of the theological with little regard to proper doctrine or exegesis. He lifted the profane up with respect and regard without slighting the sacred. This is why I love him. His faith was life lived and incredibly practical. It would never fit on a bumper sticker, yet he also taught millions to sing the word “Hallelujah” with deep reverence. This was his most famous of offerings that has been recorded by some of the most respected of artists. With the second life of this incredible track that came after the late Jeff Buckley recorded it, many churches sang it during service, which might not be the most appropriate of places for such a brilliant prose (or maybe because of this, the perfect placing).
While much about Cohen is up for debate, his theological offerings should be studied with care and affection. The above quote is a staple for anyone wishing to hear his balance between beauty and brokenness. His refusal to explain away suffering, while still bringing a prophetic type voice into the public square, screams of a master theologian. These are the best mouthpieces for God, the broken ones. Like Cohen mentions above, God’s light shines more brightly through our cracks.