Note: this morning’s reflection will be less of a pastoral reflection and more of a personal reflection. That is the thing about pastors: we are persons too.

Last week I listened to the new album from my favorite band from high school, Underoath. I had not kept up with them in recent years. Like old high school friends, we have grown apart and now have different interests. There is little left that we have in common to make for meaningful conversation. I appreciated the music for what it was, but it failed to connect musically or lyrically with me in any meaningful way.

To quote one of their old songs: “You always amazed me/but that’s the past…I guess that’s the part of growing up/I never wanted to learn.”¹

For those who have no idea who I am talking about, Underoath is a post-hardcore band that was immensely popular in the 2000’s. Their 2006 album Define the Great Line reached number two on the Billboard 200 charts, something pretty much unheard of for heavy music at that time. They were icons of the “emo kids” of my generation. If you like high energy, sad and emotional music with more screaming than singing, then Underoath is what you are looking for. If not, don’t bother.

They blew up right at the time I entered high school. I was 15 when Define the Great Line came out, and the album defined (pun intended) my teenage years. I connected with it like many Gen X’ers connected with Nirvana’s Nevermind. If I ever have to (go back to) therapy, I might just need to tell them: listen to this first…it will get you up to speed.

Underoath spoke a language I desperately needed to learn. They put words to something I knew was present in my heart and mind but did not know how to describe or, more importantly, how to release. Now that I have grown up and received some much needed therapy, I now know the name to the language they taught me: depression.

One of their most popular songs, “Writing on the Walls”, opens with these lines: “Maybe we, why don’t we/Sit right here for half an hour?/We’ll speak of what a waste I am/And how we missed your beat again”²

Another song screams out: “Now I pull my frail body into the chair/and look me in the face/Oh, disappointments, so disappointing.”³ The same song concludes: “I’m worn out, I’m worn thin/I will never break through…Let me out.”

Looking back, I am grateful my parents could not understand the words screaming through my headphones: they would have been liable to take the music away from me. As a parent now myself, I would not really blame them.

That said, I am glad that did not happen because I needed those words. I needed those screams of pain and rage. My default was to bottle up any negative emotion. Any emotion or thought that I deemed to be “ungodly” I saw as only further proof of my worthlessness. So I repressed and denied what was present.

Those songs became my outlet. They relieved the pressure. They were my prayers: the psalms I prayed before I learned how to pray the psalms. Prayers do not have to be pretty. They do have to be honest. If we do not pray our depressions, anxieties, and hatreds, then what else are we going to do with them?

Underoath helped me learn how to pray: “It’s all in my head/if you want/you can look inside/There’s nothing but red/And all the mess I’ve been/It’s all in the way/I say what I don’t mean and mean what I don’t/I need to speak of you and what is real.”⁴

As I have listened to some of those old songs again this last week, I still appreciate the music. I am thankful for the needed help they gave me. But it is not where I live anymore. I have grown, matured, and taken further steps toward dealing with my mental and spiritual health. What Underoath did for me as a teenager, the psalms now do much better.

So thank you, Underoath. It was good to catch up on old times. I am in a different place now and so are you.

“And I grew into the man
That you never knew
But I wouldn’t be this way
If it wasn’t for you.
A hundred thank you’s.”⁵

1. Underoath, “Alone in December” from The Changing of Times 2002. ↩︎
2. Underoath, “Writing on the Walls” from Define the Great Line 2006. ↩︎
3. Underoath, “Desperate Times, Desperate Measures” from Lost in the Sound of Separation 2008. ↩︎
4. Underoath, “The Created Void” from Lost in the Sound of Separation 2008. ↩︎
5. Underoath, “Alone in December” from The Changing of Times 2002. ↩︎