The Bob

I am not a praying man yet when the King of King's banner in its royal colour purple is back lighted at a show I become emotional. Bob Dylan is one of the few performing Christians I admire. My admiration is shown each time I purchase a ticket to a show, buy a CD, or listen to a scratchy LP on the turntable at home. When Bob and the band close the show with a prayer for the audience they give back to me their respect and thanks. For that and more I am grateful.
For me Bob Dylan remains an enigma. His music and writing disturbs my comfort zone. I recently described him to an acquaintance as, "A very curious man". He continues to shake me up and I like that.
Dylan's metaphysics and his Apocalyptic world view I do not share. The magnificient imagery he has created concerning his beliefs (for the most part gone unheard and unread by Secularists) rivals that of Milton and Donne. His concept of modern Evil is a Classical viewpoint. Dylan's struggles with evil in his writings gets mixed up with the Christian mythology that is the foundation of the Fundamentalist movement. Two working principles on the nature of everyday human evil I use are, one, ignoring it will generally protect one from its influences; and two, the nature of human evil is in of itself extremely weak and brainless. Dylan wants us to fight it within ourselves and against the Force he sees that surrounds us. Whether he sees himself as the standard bearer in this fight I do not know. I like to believe that like his friend, the late Allen Ginsberg, Dylan puts it out there and respects people enough to allow them to make up their own minds.
From the grey Stetson atop his head to the shine on his highly polished pointed ebony boots Bob is the consummate showman. His onstage personae I find endearing. He stands at his little synth, dances a little shuffle, blows the har-moan-i-ca, and in a sing-song phraseology recites his lyrics. After fifty years of performing in front of audiences Bob continues to do exactly what he wants. I for one am grateful that what he wants to give his audience is what I too want. I want to be entertained. I want to be lost in the imagery he creates with his lyrics. I want to be transformed by the sound the band creates. I forget the nostalgia, I forget the politics, I forget the zealotry. For two hours at each show I am unnerved by a man who lives to entertain. What the hell else can he do? Sail?
Although I am not a praying man, when His eye below the crown on the purple banner looks out over the crowd I for a few moments become aware I may be being watched. My comfort zone has been disturbed. Its not very often I allow myself the pleasure of this experience.