sympathy for the devil

Some friends and I were discussing (lowercase) sympathy for the devil, specifically in relation to Milton's "Paradise Lost," which is a seminal text in English on the topic: Milton allowed us into Satan's Satanic reasoning, and it looked awfully familiar.

William Blake famously said that Milton's writing of those scenes was so alive precisely because he was "of the Devil's party without knowing it." He couldn't help but make Satan sound more interesting than boring old God, because he, being so sinful, had some natural ... err, sympathy for him. Later critics repeated Blake while reversing him: Milton did know that he was of the Devil's party, and knew that you and I were too; he deliberately made Satan persuasive so we wouldn't kid ourselves about whose side we're really on. (Whether his trick was intentional or not, Milton's aggressive Protestantism, which held that we are all completely incapable of good without direct intervention from God, would absolutely track with that interpretation.)

This all got me in mind of one of the Rolling Stones' most notorious songs. I remember hearing that the Rolling Stones were Satan-worshipers (an allegation that was diluted by the fact that virtually all popular musicians were, in the eyes of many youth ministers in the 80s). Mick Jagger is even on record as saying that, because people thought of the song that way, later heavy-metal acts got in on the action, and that song is the genesis of an entire heavy-metal trope. It bears mentioning that in that same interview Jagger brushed off the idea that the song indicated anything like Satanism on their part — proof for many that he was indeed a Satanist, because that's exactly the tricky sort of thing a Satan-worshipper would do.

As usual (I'm looking at "Puff the Magic Dragon" and "Bohemian Rhapsody"), the religious-minded critics of that song quite simply couldn't have really listened to it. At least, if they had, they might not have perceived what's there in black and white, instead trusting what they think they know.

Before we get into it, though, allow me to rewrite the song, or rather write my own song, with lyrics that could very well be forwarded in one of those horrible emails that your uncle sends around. I'll even cast it in doggerel form just to make it more realistic. The goal here is to write something that would give a more traditional view of Satan, something like a pop-culture Screwtape Letters, in which Satan introduces himself and reveals to the presumably skeptical listener that he's the dark power behind all the evil of history — a poem that your youth minister could have gotten behind, a song Carmen might sing. Let's give it a shot:

Please allow me to introduce myself
I'm a man of wealth and taste
I've been around for a long, long year
Stole many a man's soul and faith
And I was 'round when Jesus Christ
Had his moment of doubt and pain
I made sure that Pilate
Washed his hands and sealed his fate

Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name
But what's puzzling you
Is the nature of my game

I stuck around St. Petersburg
When I saw it was a time for a change
Killed the czar and his ministers
Anastasia screamed in vain
I rode a tank
Held a general's rank
When the blitzkrieg raged
And the bodies stank

I watched with glee
While your kings and queens
Fought for decades
For the gods they made
I shouted out,
"Who killed the Kennedys?"
When after all
It was you and me

So if you meet me
Have some courtesy
Have some sympathy, and some taste
Use all your well-learned politesse —
Or I'll lay your soul to waste.

I like the references to Soviet Communism and WWII, which we think of in such human terms, but which we must realize have their roots in the spiritual world. I especially like the subtle and damning theology of "I shouted out, 'Who killed the Kennedys?' when after all it was you and me." Bam! Says it all, right? The sin in the world doesn't come at us; it comes out of us, to use Jesus of Nazareth's startling phrase. The evil that plagues history isn't some accident or flaw: it comes from Satan, and you and I are in league with him.

By now, you've figured out that those are the lyrics to the real "Sympathy for the Devil," by the Rolling Stones. That doggerel isn't an inexpertly-rhymed email forward or a Carmen spectacular: it's the original song.

So that's "Sympathy for the Devil?" Why on earth didn't every youth minister in the land latch onto it as a perfect bit of pop-culture theology? How could anyone look at it and conclude that these people are God-is-bad-Satan-is-good occultists? Certainly they weren't exemplars of sober and spirit-filled living, but few pastors went after Jerry Lewis. What's the deal? These guys succeeded in a rock-n-roll samba worthy of Screwtape himself.

Rule number one: before you criticize a song, pay attention to what the song is actually saying. You might be surprised.