Yes, this happened. Yes, this is embarrassing.

The Burner loves to find the voice of God in works of art that are not necessarily intended to be spiritually significant. This phenomenon is covered in A Matrix of Meanings: Finding God in Pop Culture by Fuller professor Barry Taylor and former Fuller prof Craig Detweiler, and is the chief reason The Burner attended Fuller. To find a “higher” theological or spiritual connection in something that is meant for “lower” purposes is something that exhilarates and inspires TB to continue in his creative endeavors and in his faith.

This is a difficult thing to admit to. It’s Katy Perry.

TB’s not a fan, and not-not a fan; Perry is something like a mild amusement. Usually, these moments happen with something a little more critically acclaimed works of art, but like Namaan expecting something bigger from God, beggars can’t be choosers. So, yesterday, it was in the song “Firework” by fellow pastor’s kid Perry (and her team of writers).

Let’s set the scene:

TB was feeling down–pretty down about life, about the prospects for the future, about his abilities. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament, if you will. You have nothing to offer; there’s nothing special about you; you’re mediocre. Going to church yesterday was not at all appealing.

But then TB heard God singing:

Do you ever feel like a plastic bag,
drifting through the wind
wanting to start again?
Do you ever feel, feel so paper thin
like a house of cards,
one blow from caving in?

Do you ever feel already buried deep?
Six feet under screams but no one seems to hear a thing
Do you know that there’s still a chance for you
‘Cause there’s a spark in you

You just gotta ignite, the light, and let it shine
Just own the night like the 4th of July

‘Cause baby you’re a firework
Come on, show ‘em what you’re worth
Make ‘em go “Oh, oh, oh”
As you shoot across the sky-y-y

Baby, you’re a firework
Come on, let your colors burst
Make ‘em go “Oh, oh, oh”
You’re gonna leave ‘em all in awe, awe, awe

You don’t have to feel like a waste of space
You’re original, cannot be replaced
If you only knew what the future holds
After a hurricane comes a rainbow

Maybe your reason why all the doors are closed
So you could open one that leads you to the perfect road
Like a lightning bolt, your heart will glow
And when it’s time, you’ll know

You just gotta ignite, the light, and let it shine
Just own the night like the 4th of July

‘Cause baby you’re a firework
Come on, show ‘em what you’re worth
Make ‘em go “Oh, oh, oh”
As you shoot across the sky-y-y

Baby, you’re a firework
Come on, let your colors burst
Make ‘em go “Oh, Oh, Oh”
You’re gonna leave ‘em all in awe, awe, awe

Okay, so like rereading a hastily-written-but-passionately-composed last chance confession of love in a high school yearbook, maybe it doesn’t work as well the second time around.

But the message was a little Psalm 139 “fearfully and wonderfully made” and a little Luke 12 “Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered.” And it hit home in a way few sermons or David Crowder songs ever have…

TB teared up, and only masculine pride and refusal to let Katy Perry et al make him cry kept the tears from turning into massive sobs of relief.

God thinks TB is worthwhile after all!

It was out of nowhere, it was embarrassing, and it was very, very real–even as rereading the lyrics or mistakenly watching the, uh, explosive award-winning music video makes it hard to believe that anything meaningful really happened.

Awkwardly, nobody on the church staff evidently felt it was spiritually significant either, because the whole point of the band covering the song was to point out it’s silly “we-can-do-it-ourselves” sort of worldly humanism. A MercyMe song was used at the end of the service to demonstrate the type of song from which we should hear God.

Whatever. God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise.

Consider TB shamed–and feeling more equipped, more inspired and more prepared for following the call of God than he has in months.

Thanks, Katy Perry. (Sniff.)

There are hundreds of covers of this song on the internet, but the one that TB likes best is from Britain’s Got Talent runner-up Ronan Parke.