Have you ever reached the point where you feel like you've heard those '60s songs in the supermarket one time too many? I felt that way today while shopping. I guess they have this tape they keep replaying all day long. (It must stink for the cashiers.) But come on. It was 8 o'clock in the morning, and I had to be subjected to "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction" while carrying my basket through the baking goods aisle.
Today it all struck me as diabolical. Who is this evil Big Brother (I'm talking like a madman) who turns this Muzak on and programs what I am going to think and how I'm going to feel when I'm minding my own business trying to buy groceries? I understand that this is an obligatory marketing ambience thing, and that by this hour in culture we are so habituated to the piped-in, mood-drug white noise that no store would attempt to survive without it, but let me vent a little.
I am not in general a cranky "consumer." But today my consciousness was raised a notch, and I got to thinking that this Rolling Stones song is going to stick with me like a deer tick for the rest of the day. Or at least I will have to pray all the harder to be rid of it.
Paul said to the Corinthians, "Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit?" (1 Corinthians 6:19). It matters what I put into my ears. The idea that music doesn't matter is materialism, not spiritual thinking. It is very interesting to me that God commands songs of praise. In addition to the fact that praise is owed Him, I think He knows that what we imbibe by osmosis at the supermarket will either enhance or whittle away at the life of the Spirit in us.