How Do We Respond to The Return of Tim Lambesis and As I Lay Dying?
A once professing Christian of a metal band returns to prominence after going to jail in a murder for hire plot against his wife.
One sunny afternoon in 2013, Tim Lambesis — the frontman of the Grammy-nominated metal band, As I Lay Dying — was arrested by police in a murder for hire plot targeting his estranged wife. Confused, people within the metal and hard rock community debated the validity of the accusations as they seemed far-fetched. Given the background of the band, and their well-known front man, fans initially scoffed at reports.
For several years, Tim and his fellow band mates claimed to be devout Christians. Their lyrics resonated with young Christians in the metal community who often felt alienated by their churches and pastors for loving music their faith communities deemed as “satanic.” Metal has had a long-standing history of being ostracized by those in the faith community, but As I Lay Dying first paved a path into the industry garnering respect from the Christian and secular communities alike.
Surely this news couldn’t be true fans speculated. But in one of the most shocking moments in metal history, Tim pleaded guilty in a California Superior Court after evidence overwhelmingly revealed he tried to hire a hitman. The backlash was immediate and fierce from fans who wondered how the hell something like this happens. While awaiting sentencing, Lambesis spoke with Alternative Press in a lengthy and exclusive interview (which has since been removed from the website). In the interview, he claimed he and his band mates no longer believed in God, but kept up the charade to sell records and tickets to shows. He also admitted to extramarital affairs and steroid use. Most people were struck by how little remorse Tim showed in the interview and during his sentencing.
Years passed and the music community forgot about As I Lay Dying even when former band members created their own band, WovenWar (which remained largely unsuccessful). Then in December 2016, Tim Lambesis was quietly released from prison after serving two years of a six year sentencing. After his release, Tim posted a lengthy apology claiming he was a changed man and for the first time, showing signs of remorse and responsibility for his actions.
Throughout the ordeal, Tim and his former bandmates remained at odds, with former members often slamming Tim in interviews. So on June 7th, 2018 when the band reunited with the original lineup and Tim as the frontman, an uproar ensued. One media outlet refused to cover the band citing “moral objections.” The vast majority of fans seemed excited, although after Tim’s arrest many claimed they would never listen to the band again. Several Christians went so far as to tell Tim to “burn in hell.” Several musicians have spoke out in condemnation or support since the reunion. But for most of us, the looming question is, “how should we respond to a convicted criminal who tried to kill his wife?”
That brings us to where we are today. Many within our community are wondering what to make of the situation. Do we separate the artist from the art? Should we support the return of As I Lay Dying or condemn it? What are the moral implications?
Buckle up. This is about to get long and messy.
What’s the Point of Morality?
I’m baffled by news media outlets refusing to cover the return of As I Lay Dying by claiming a moral high ground. There’s an inherent problem with this thinking for several philosophical reasons. The main reason being that it’s impossible to check your own moral beliefs at the door because they’re impossible to prove.
In a lecture I once heard by Dr. Timothy Keller, he gave an example of how we each operate out of this perspective. He stated:
Let’s say Person A says we should remove safety nets for poor, get rid of welfare, and let the poor starve. Scientifically it’s the survival of the fittest after all. The stronger species will always survive.
Person B, however, says the poor have a right to live. They’re human beings like us.
Person A retorts that scientists today believe the concept of human is artificial and impossible to define. They can point to a greater ethic stating that in order for the majority to live, others must die. It’s how nature works.
Person B could try a pragmatic argument about how helping the poor makes society work better and gives us value. Person A, however, could come up with just as many reasons to let the poor die in order to create a more efficient environment.
At this point, most of us would agree with Person B and say starving the poor is unethical! But it’s just as easy for Person A (or anyone) to point out that “Who says ethics has to be the same for everyone?”
So where do we hold these values that keep us from rape, murder, and acting out on our depraved thoughts? Somehow — deep within — we know that even the most mentally handicapped man or woman holds more intrinsic value than the award winning horse, Secretariat. Yet we can’t prove that. In that same breath, each of us deal with our own internal darkness. We all know the voices that whisper “Destroy the weakest link. Punish and torture those that hurt us,” but most of us don’t act on those thoughts. So this begs the question — What’s the basis for your moral objections or acceptance of Tim Lambesis and the rest of the band?
- Is it an appeal to a higher power? If so, what does your higher power say about moral failing, second chances, justice, and forgiveness?
- Is it an appeal to your own moral beliefs? If so, who says morals have to be the same for everyone? Why do your moral beliefs supersede that of everyone else? On what basis are you even claiming morals? Science? Faith?
- Is it a humanistic appeal towards human flourishing? If so, we should welcome men and women who recognize the error of their ways and work towards the betterment of the species.
If we try to take the moral high ground, this is why so many of us end up looking like buffoons. Because here’s a simple yet profound truth: We love to compare ourselves to scoundrels. Most of us have thoughts like, “Well, I’m not as bad as my neighbor, Bob. He’s an asshole and cheats on his wife.” While that may be true, no one compares themselves to Mother Teresa or Ghandi. Again, many of us have committed murder in our mind or heart, just not acted on it. So why are we better when we only compare ourselves to people a bit worse than we are?
More importantly, why can we give ourselves mulligans and do-overs, but everyone else needs a higher moral standard? Are criminals doomed to be the modern day lepers of society because of our personal and individualistic moral compasses?
Then What’s the Point of Prison?
The American prison system in its current form is quite broken — as is the way we view criminals. We like to pretend that prison rehabilitates men and women into functioning members of society, but the minute you mention the word “felon” you’re excluded from just about every job you could apply for (especially if they run a background check). According to the National Institute of Justice most released prisoners end up back in jail within the first three years (67.8%) and more than half are rearrested by the end of their first year of release. There are also the racial disparities in the prison system. The NAACP reports that African Americans make up 34% of the prison population and are incarcerated at more than 5 times the rate of whites. You might be tempted to say, “So what? What the hell does this have to do with Tim Lambesis?” And my point would be: Everything.
If you agree that the prison system is broken — and that we set men and women up for continued failure post-incarceration — the fact that one man appears to be trying to make amends while owning his wrongdoings is quite a feat. Granted, Tim only served a third of his sentence, an act of leniency often afforded to white males. Were his adopted kids arrested — who are African American — they would have likely served their sentence in full. So Tim should be well aware that they gave him a sweetheart deal. However, here’s where the hypocrisy reaches a crescendo in the music industry. If you believe people deserve second chances and prison systematically sets former convicts up for failure, do you believe some crimes are so heinous that even if the criminals were released, they deserve no second chance?
This is part of the relativistic nature of our society. Everyone loves the idea of second chances, but only on their terms and conditions. By doing so, we become the gatekeepers, judges, and jury. Not the law. So if Tim doesn’t deserve a second chance, I would again ask, “On what basis? Your own moral code? An appeal to a higher power?”
If Tim has walked out of prison a changed man who wants to be a productive and contributing member of society, we should celebrate that as opposed to hoping for the worst and adding to the prison conundrum we already have. Otherwise we look like hypocrites who operate out of our own warped sense of justice where we apply second chances solely to our personal lives. We can claim morality all we want, but do our morals advance humanity in kindness, dignity, and grace or are they more about judgement and condemnation?
Either way, we must address those of the Christian faith tradition and their response to Tim Lambesis.
I’m a Christian and What Tim Did is Unethical and Unbiblical!
“We love to shoot our own…”
Sitting on the leather couch inside the tour bus, I’m shocked by the confession I’ve heard. The musician who I’m speaking with informed me that after Tim Lambesis’s sentencing he visited him in prison. An outspoken Christian (who’s since retired from his band), he continues to share about the experience the more I question him about the encounter.
“You see Ben,” he pauses and takes a sip of water. He and the rest of his band had just finished a set in my hometown of Austin, Texas and he’s still sweating. “Instead of trying to restore our wayward brothers and lead them to repentance, we write off our fellow Christians — even the ones who claim they aren’t anymore — as a lost cause. We then condemn and judge them and the world looks at us wondering how we can claim grace and mercy when we take our own out back and put ’em down.”
“How do you even know Tim?” I ask. “You two aren’t even in the same genre of music.”
My friend scratches his face. “We don’t… not really. We played a few festivals together and know of one another. I think he was surprised when I showed up.”
Leaving the tour bus late that evening, I was struck by the grace and empathy I heard. I’ll be the first to admit that when I learned about what Tim did, my response was “Ah shit… another black eye for Christians from a fraud.” Then I stopped listening to As I Lay Dying like most other fans did. But not long after the aforementioned conversation I began to dwell of the story of King David.
David is a character Christian preachers love to teach on. Christians feel soft and cuddly after hearing David and Bathsheba’s story and for good reason. David sleeps with one of his buddy’s wives (Bathsheba) and has him murdered afterward. David gets busted, then repents. There’s a slew of consequences for the King, but preachers and fellow Christians are quick to point out that God calls David a “man after his own heart.” While he continually blows it, David knows of God’s grace and mercy and that he’s only justified through his relationship with God. The faithful then profess how kind, gracious, and forgiving God is if he can love a man like David. That is, until someone hurts them, and they forget David’s story only to shun and condemn Christians and non-Christians alike.
Tim Lambesis’s story runs in the same vein, except he got busted before he ran down David’s dark path. While I don’t know what Tim now believes regarding faith, he appears to show genuine remorse and is trying to make amends. Enough so that his band mates have returned and released a 30-minute video sharing their own hurts and pains and how they believe him changed.
The response from the Christian community, however, remains disappointing. Here we are — supposed agents of forgiveness and compassion to a broken world — and we’re completely ignorant and antagonistic towards grace and mercy. We’ll claim forgiveness for ourselves, but everyone else be damned.
So let me lay this out clearly. The extent to which you’re willing to offer forgiveness is the depth to which you understand of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. If you cannot offer grace and mercy to the worst, then you do not understand the Gospel.
You may feel the need to argue with that, but I lay before you the case of Corrie Ten Boom. Corrie Ten Boom and her family were placed in a German concentration camp after hiding Jews in their home after World War II. Her sister Betsie died at the hands of her captors after being beaten and starved to death. After her liberation from the concentration camp, Corrie spoke around Europe on the power of forgiveness. After one speaking session, a man approached her with his arm extended. The man happened to be one of her old guards she’d been paraded around naked in front of and suffered abuse. His actions also led to the death of her sister. He explained he’d become a Christian and asked her forgiveness. At first she hesitated, but then remembered the depths of Christ’s forgiveness for her and embraced the man and told him, “With all my heart!”
If a Corrie Ten Boom can forgive the guard who tortured her and aided in the death of her sister, surely as a Christian you can forgive and stop condemning and shaming a musician you have no personal relationship with. Not that you have to trust Tim or even listen to his music, but remember that you’re just as guilty as he is. Jesus reminds his followers that if you’ve ever had hate in your heart, you’re a murderer too and he shows no partiality.
In Light of This, How Should We Respond?
At HeartSupport, we work with people who’ve been the victims of horrid crimes ranging from abuse to human trafficking. We also work with men and women who have committed crimes. We’ve employed felons at our organization because we know they’re not their past. Our founder, Jake Luhrs, has a saying he beats into our team, “It doesn’t matter who you are or what you’ve done…you’re welcome here. Come explore healing with us.”
Our best hope for a better world is to affirm men and women can change. They can become stronger. They can inspire. That their failures can become a torch to lead others out of the darkness and keep them from making the same mistakes.
I, for one, am hoping Tim is a changed man and becomes a productive member of society once more. Often the greatest stories of redemption carry the heavy burden of failure. Tim will have to earn people’s trust and prove he’s different. He has a long road ahead of him and his crime will always haunt him. Yet, I’m hopeful. My story is marked by failure and shortcoming, but people were kind enough to believe in me when I was at my worst.
You don’t have to listen to or support As I Lay Dying’s return, but I think we can all agree that the best hope for a broken world, is reformed healers who mend the parts they’ve shattered.
If that happens, we might just see more people’s evil actions become a story of redemption and reconciliation.
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