Ancient Truth | Modern Sound

I was really into Jesus when I was 14 years old. I was already writing songs and performing them in church. My Sunday School teacher, Rico Dunsmore, was a card carrying Jesus Freak. He was always loaning me his records (vinyl LPs) and introducing me to Christian rockers. He changed my life when he loaned me a small stack of Larry Norman albums.

Half the songs were acoustic guitar driven folk/protest music (Dylan), and the other half were rockin/pop songs (Stones, Beatles). They all felt so heavy with meaning that the net result was like a religious experience to me. I drank his music in like it was the elixir of life. My songs started having underlaying meanings and layers of lyrical complexity, I started wearing black, grew my hair long and dyed it blonde. I had already known that I wanted to be a Christian and a singer/songwriter, I knew that I wanted to be in full time ministry, but now I knew something else, too. I wanted to be Larry Norman.

I don’t know how many of us 14 year olds in the mid 70’s aspired to be Larry Norman, but I’ll bet there were at least a few of us. I think we became worship leaders at mega-churches.

When I was studying to be a pastor I met a few other Larry fans. One of them was a guy named Steve. His dorm room and mine shared a bathroom. He only listened to Larry Norman albums. Nothing else. I appreciated his zeal for the cause, but I didn’t share his mono-maniacal-devotion to Larry’s discography. I found a few other recording artists who were worthy of a listen now and then. You know, people like Daniel Amos, Mark Heard and Randy Stonehill. People Larry had worked with and produced.

I met Larry a couple of times. Once was in Chicago in the late 70s. He played an outdoor concert with a full band, it was amazing, he said a bunch of powerful things and played a full set of his music. After the show he was standing backstage and Rico and I walked up to him and started talking. I don’t remember what we talked about, but I got to meet him. That was cool.

The next time I met him was at the Cornerstone festival in the 90s. He played an acoustic set of greatest hits. He was very funny when he talked between the songs. There is a line in the song “Why Should the Devil Have all the Good Music” where Larry says, “I don’t like none of those funeral marches, I ain’t dead yet.” He had started having health problems and he added, “I still ain’t dead.” He continued to add that line to the song in live performances for the next 10 years. It always got a big laugh from the audience.

Last Sunday, February 24, 2008, at 60 years old, Larry Norman died. Even though he was suffering in life, it is a sad day that he has died.  Even though he is now with our Lord, death is not our friend.  Even though we will see him again when we are gathered with our fathers, today we are sad and we will miss him.

He was surrounded by his family as he passed away. His brother Charlie tells us about those last moments:

Our friend and my wonderful brother Larry passed away at 2:45 Sunday
morning. Kristin and I were with him, holding his hands and sitting in
bed with him when his heart finally slowed to a stop. We spent this past
week laughing, singing, and praying with him, and all the while he had
us taking notes on new song ideas and instructions on how to continue
his ministry and art.

Several of you friends here got to come and visit with him in the last
couple of weeks and were a great source of help and friendship to Larry.
Ray Sievers, Derek Robertson, Mike Makinster, Matt Simmons, and a few
more. Thank you guys. Larry appreciated your visits very much. And he
greatly appreciated the thoughts, wishes, support and prayers that came
from all of you Army members on a daily basis. Thank you for being part
of his small circle of friends over the years. Yesterday afternoon he
knew he was going to go home to God very soon and he dictated the
following message to you while his friend Allen Fleming typed these
words into Larry’s computer:
________________________________

I feel like a prize in a box of cracker jacks with God’s hand reaching
down to pick me up. I have been under medical care for months. My wounds are getting bigger. I have trouble breathing. I am ready to fly home.

My brother Charles is right, I won’t be here much longer. I can’t do
anything about it. My heart is too weak. I want to say goodbye to
everyone. In the past you have generously supported me with prayer and finance and we will probably still need financial help

My plan is to be buried in a simple pine box with some flowers inside.
But still it will be costly because of funeral arrangement,
transportation to the gravesite, entombment, coordination, legal papers etc. However money is not really what I need, I want to say I love you.

I’d like to push back the darkness with my bravest effort. There will be
a funeral posted here on the website, in case some of you want to
attend. We are not sure of the date when I will die. Goodbye, farewell,
we will meet again.

Goodbye, farewell, we’ll meet again
Somewhere beyond the sky.
I pray that you will stay with God
Goodbye, my friends, goodbye.

Larry