Review of The Hillbilly Thomists.
When I first heard The Hillbilly Thomists, I couldn’t help but recall the English poet G.K. Chesterton’s words when he said, “it is the paradox of history that each generation is converted by the saint who contradicts it most.” Indeed, it was St. Francis’ stark poverty in contrast to the opulence of the church that gave rise to a great order of mendicants, and it was St. Thomas’ heavenly metaphysics which has inspired generations of scientists from getting trapped in materialism.
The Hillbilly Thomists are a group of 10 friars in the Dominican Order, from the Order’s Northeast Province. The band takes its unique name from the Flannery O’Connor novel “Wise Blood,” with the latter part of the name referencing Dominican scholar St. Thomas Aquinas. Today, we have The Hillbilly Thomists’ first album as a powerful counter-cultural force to modernity, pitting the old world instrumentation of banjos, bagpipes and drum sets into the new millennium, and the result is a joy to hear.
The album begins with “Leaning On the Everlasting Arms,” a glorious ode to living a life solely dependent on Christ. Right from the start, the song bursts with toe-tapping energy, solidly carrying the message of fellowship and peace into the bluegrass genre. Half-tuned violins fill the melodies with excited riffs, accompanied by that distinctive, vocal sound of Kentucky bluegrass. “Angel Band” slows down the tempo with its sparkling guitar accompaniment, while Gregorian chant-trained Dominicans add a touch of the divine to an otherwise earth-scented genre.
Although many are recompositions of classic songs, “I’m a Dog” is an original composition by the band’s lead vocalist, Br. Justin Bolger, formerly a professional singer and songwriter before entering the order of the Dominicans. The “dog” is a reference to the popular symbol of the Dominicans as a dog with a torch in its mouth. The lyrics convey the paradoxical message that life is short and passing, yet it’s most well-lived by giving it away: “Making noise while I got time / Spreading fire while I got earth.” There’s no trace of melancholy or sadness in this sacrifice, rather it’s an exuberance that can only be described as childlike in sincerity.
My favorite song, however, would be “What Wondrous Love Is This.” It asks the impossible question of why our Lord suffered such a terrible death for us, who are insignificant and imperfect as seen through the lyrics, “What wondrous love is this that caused the Lord of bliss / to bear the dreadful curse for my soul / for my soul.” But the song never gives an answer to this question. It’s reminiscing of God’s answer to Job: “Where were you when I founded the earth? / Tell me, if you have understanding” (Job 38:4). The song goes through one last, short chorus (“Through eternity I’ll sing on”) then breaks away into an epic 3-minute banjo and violin accompaniment. Drums beat steady and strong, while strings ring in vibratto, as if they tremble at the existential question that has been posed.
All in all, the album conveys the energy of a soul’s heroic journey through life, asking this same question but never being provided a direct answer, because it’s impossible. In the meantime, all we can do is “sing on” in praise of such “wondrous love.”
