Candy Bars and Jesus: Taking a Risk on Jon Guerra

How to cite this article: Dan Cloutier, “Candy Bars and Jesus: Taking a Risk on Jon Guerra,” Jerusalem Perspective (2026) [https://www.jerusalemperspective.com/34528/].

Dan Cloutier, a singer-songwriter based out of Boston, MA, is Jerusalem Perspective’s new music and art journalist and reviewer. Dan spent the last year traveling to Newfoundland and Greenland to record his latest album The Iceberg. Learn more about Dan and his artistic adventures at www.dancloutier.com.

I remember vividly one night when I came home from a long day of doing administrative paperwork and teaching music therapy at the respite center where I work, and I sat down in a kitchen chair. That was when my darling and very forgiving wife said, “I found a new Christian artist that my friend told me about, and I think you are actually going to like it.” I smiled and nodded my head, which I’m sure she saw right through, and asked her to play me a song. Inside I rolled my eyes and scoffed at the idea that any part of it could resonate with me. At that moment I honestly couldn’t remember the last time a “Christian artist” had moved me. I thought pridefully to myself, “Sure, plenty of Christians, like Johnny Cash or Blind Willie Johnson, are amongst my favorites, but they didn’t play by the ‘industry’ rules.”

As I reflect on my feelings in that moment, I can see with much clearer eyes that I was simply full of it. Plenty of modern worship songs, like “10,000 Reasons” or “Graves Into Gardens,” have been my favorites to sing or lead on Sunday morning. Since I have been asked to write for Jerusalem Perspective about music and art that focuses on the teachings of Jesus of Nazareth, I felt I needed to first ask this question: Why have I for so long had such a negative reaction to the idea of being a “Christian artist?”

To answer that question, we need to go back to my kitchen when a simple guitar strum started from my wife’s cellphone with these words, and I was forced to completely reexamine my attitude, the unstable ground I had been standing on, and the shape of my heart:

I grew up as a pastor’s kid who found songwriting as a young teenager to be a way of finding meaning in my jr. high world and of putting words to my youthful and underdeveloped emotions. You would be right to assume that my first poems and songs were filled with classic American teenage anxiety and loneliness. I went to jr. high when alternative music was at its peak. My ninth grade wardrobe consisted of three different Smashing Pumpkins t-shirts, one Pearl Jam, and one Radiohead t-shirt, with two rotating flannels. So yeah, I had angst coming out of all my pores. But, as thrilled as I am that I no longer live with that weight, when I re-read my old lines of poetry now, I do have to admit they were a good reflection of who I was then. There was a hunger for truth inside that 13-year-old brain. Fast forward a few short years, and a ton of brain development, and I was still looking for truth but in different ways. By the time I entered college, like countless before me, I found a deep passion for the Scriptures and, especially, the teachings of Jesus of Nazareth. It’s not surprising that the person proclaiming himself to be “The Way, the Truth, and the Life” would touch my heart. I even majored in Biblical Studies and spent a semester in Jerusalem traveling around the Holy Land.

One would think that having songwriting and Biblical Studies as my two main passions might just lead me down the path to becoming the “Christian artist” that I have so disliked. In fact, I’ve been asked countless times over the years about why I haven’t tried to attach myself to CCM (Contemporary Christian Music Industry). I don’t think I could even put into words why for years I found it all so unappealing, but as I have pondered over my decades as a writer, I think it always comes back to the word “risk.” What drove me to love the alternative rock scene was their artists’ ability to say hard and challenging things, and what drove me away from the industry around Christian art was my perceived idea—fair or not—that many topics, ideas, and themes were taboo and limited.

The more I dug into Scripture, the more I felt that dichotomy. If what is in the Bible is so intense, subversive, and real, especially in the words of Jesus, why do I only hear the same thing over and over when I turn on Christian radio? From my studies I learned that the call for people to be creative goes right back to the first chapter of Genesis, when the Creator of everything mentions that humans were specially created in his image (Gen. 1:27). Simply put, being creative is a core feature of being human. That chapter in Genesis also tells us that he created this world with purpose, beauty, and goodness, but also at great risk and surprise. As we see in the second chapter, the simple act of bringing loving relationships into this world meant that this same love could also be rejected. This risk led to the apple, Cain and Abel, the Flood, etc. It was a tremendous risk to himself for God to make this universe. That risk is echoed throughout the life and teachings of Jesus, who was so perplexing, challenging, and risky that it led to the cross.

So, why is “risk,” or maybe more appropriately, “the lack of risk,” the reason I have struggled so much with the idea of Christian music? A simple truth is that being creative is a risky thing to do, and all artists should have an understanding of that. An analogy I find helpful for explaining myself is that listening to what the Christian music industry is pushing is akin to sitting down at a famous restaurant for an amazing meal you’ve been dreaming of, but only being served candy bars. Now, candy bars are good, and are useful for many situations. Let’s say you are on a hike and need some quick calories, the simple answer is a candy bar, but they are not that complex and you know what you are going to get every time you buy a Snickers. Some songs are wonderful for Sunday morning, but where are the songs that will get you through Monday? Or let’s say, what song will help you get through a Monday the week after your father died of cancer? Confections like candy bars are made to appeal to the most people while at the same time maintaining the highest profit margins for their companies. Simply put, candy bars are not at all risky.

This tension in my creative heart has led me to a general distrust of the industry that surrounds the billion-dollar business in the U.S. that is Christian music. If there are boards of directors who are doing their best to make a profit at the heart of it all, then I could never see how that relates to any of Jesus’ teachings about money, power, and position. He, after all, was most pleased with the widow’s small donation, taught how the dangers of money could lead you away from the Father, and held in the Beatitudes a completely upside-down power structure. This is also the same industry that has famously turned a blind eye to all kinds of allegations of assault and abuse if the artist makes enough money. I won’t name any artists’ names, because I do not personally know them or their stories, but let’s just say that famous and now scandalous Christian artists were ubiquitous on the radio at my youth group when I was a kid.

Stories like that have hardened my heart, which has not always been a good thing. I’m sure there are countless wonderful true artists who fit into the CCM business that I never gave a chance because of their association. Another simple truth that has taken me a lot longer to learn, and I’m still far from mastering, is that creativity and judgment tend not to be friends. I spent years complaining there was not enough Sermon of the Mount in Christian music while at the same time forgetting Matt. 7:1: “Judge not, lest ye be judged.” Upon further reflection, I think I must be part of the problem.

But while sitting at my kitchen table and listening to this song about a year and a half ago, I felt my heart melting just the slightest.

The gentle guitar continued, and after a few more lyrics I instantly realized the songwriter was putting many modern American ideals into the framework of the Beatitudes. It also instantly struck me that the CCM industry would never allow such risky and scathing satirical lyrics on their airways. The song continues:

Come to me those who have something to give
Come to me those who are likely to win
Come to me those who are ruthless and proud of it
Come pledge
Come swear
Come vote for the American Gospel
Don’t wait
Come trade
Your soul for the American Gospel

Lyrics © Jon Guerra. Used here with permission.

At this point I’m actually enjoying the song and thinking about how upset this must be making certain Christians out there. I’m still trying to hide from my wife that I think it is good writing, and I am also feeling a little smug that I’m agreeing with someone. But then the song turns again:

Blessed are the speech police
Fundamentalists
Blessed are the rioters
Raising clenching fists
They will be filled with empathy for all
Except their enemies

Lyrics © Jon Guerra. Used here with permission.

My smugness washed away in an instant after that line, but it made me focus even more. “Wow!” I thought. “Here is a song poking both sides of the political spectrum. This is excellent, and this is exactly what the actual Jesus would have done.” He frustrated all political and religious sides, and that was the verse that won me over as the song continues:

Come to me if you would take up the sword
A citizen honest, a patriot pure
Come to me all who are willing to kill in the war
For country
For culture
And God and the American Gospel

Lyrics © Jon Guerra. Used here with permission.

By this point I’m sure my wife realizes I like the song. I think I’m still holding a detached expression, but she knows me much too well, and she’s looking at me to see what I think about the ending, because at that point the writer starts quoting the actual Beatitudes from the Sermon on the Mount. The song ends with the simple verse:

Blessed are the powerless
Blessed are the poor
Blessed are the merciful
Blessed are the pure
For they will inherit the Kingdom of Heaven
And that’s the heart of the Gospel

Lyrics © Jon Guerra. Used here with permission.

The writer landed the song exactly how it should, and I had to admit to myself it was great. “So who wrote this song?” I asked with a tempered voice. “Oh, his name is Jon Guerra, and I’ve been listening to his album Keeper of Days all day,” my wife replied. “He has a song called ‘Citizens’ that’s even better than this one,” she enthusiastically responded. “Doesn’t Guerra mean war in Spanish?” I asked skeptically. “Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?” she responded, and then she started playing “Citizens.”

This song is a desperate plea to God to welcome us as former immigrants to become citizens in the city he is building (Eph. 2:12-13; Phil. 3:20; cf. Heb. 11:13-16). I liked this song even more than “American Gospel,” with its 5/4 time signature and devastating lyrics like:

When that song ended I finally had to confess to my wife that yes, indeed, these are two very well-written, smart, and important songs. She looked at me and said, “Isn’t it nice to hear a Christian who is talking about these things?” “Yeah,” I stammered a little. “These are both great, and there is no way they’d be played on Christian radio.” “Yeah, isn’t that fantastic?” she smiled.

Now, when I started writing this article I didn’t mean it to be a big confession of why my soul has been so judgmental, but it has been. To be honest, even after these two songs I was still a little suspect of this Jon Guerra. First off, this guy has a stunningly beautiful voice, and since I spend most of my time listening to acts that sound like a four pack of cigarettes a day habit (e.g., Bob Dylan, Nick Cave, and the like), I remained skeptical. I mean, these two songs were great, but who is this guy? Why does his last name mean war? And what do his other songs sound like?

I assumed that time at my kitchen table would be the end of my musical relationship with Jon Guerra, and that I could again put the idea of being a Christian artist in the box that I had made for it. But again, my most beautiful wife wouldn’t let that be the case. If we were in the car together, especially with the children, she would nicely ask to play more of his songs. Now, I have subjected my spouse to more crazy music over the years than her poor ears ever needed to hear, so I usually gave in. And to be honest, I was excited that she was in love with an artist. Her enthusiasm and elation had this beautiful contagious effect.

After about a week of my wife doing a full Jon Guerra dive, we got a phone call from that same friend who shared “American Gospel” with my wife that it just so happened that Jon would be playing a show in Boston in a month’s time. My wife eagerly bought tickets, and I realized this was a musician who was going to have a long staying power in my life. So, just like I have done with Dylan, or Sufjan Stevens, or Sigur Rós before, I started to dig, study, and learn everything I could about the music. (I chose these three artists because I have found that Jon quotes them as his favorites as well. Quite a nice coincidence!)

In that first week of the deep dive, I learned that Jon was the child of immigrant parents. I learned he was classically trained and wrote film scores, working recently on the film A Hidden Life, and that he views his songwriting as devotional music. To quote his website, his music was “less Sunday morning worship music and more Monday morning prayer music.” I deeply related to that idea and need. I also learned that his actual last name really is Guerra, and that it is a fairly common last name. My years of Spanish Duolingo had no way of teaching me that. This wasn’t some kind of “Rage Against the Machine” kind of name. Jon is an artist with the last name “war” singing about the peace of Christ.

Even after a week of finally giving in to the music, I could sense a big shift inside my heart. I even fearfully questioned myself, “Maybe you’ve been misguided about your reservations for Christian art?” That leads us to the show, which took place on June 15, 2025 at the beautiful Church of the Cross in downtown Boston. I had no idea what to expect in terms of crowd size (Would it be one of those arena rock crowds I see at mega churches?), but in the end, maybe about 150 to 200 people came to hear Jon play.

He opened his show on the piano with the song “In the Beginning Was Love,” which is a reflection on John chapter 1. This song starts with:

In the beginning was love
And the love was with God
And the love was God

And then ends with the repeated refrain of:

The light shines in the dark
The dark has not overcome it

Lyrics © Jon Guerra. Used here with permission.

He was touring his new album simply called Jesus, and the night was filled with beautiful songs of meditation on Jesus’ words as he was backed by a simple violin and guitar player. Yes, he played both “American Gospel” and “Citizens,” but he also played songs like “Who is the Greatest,” which is a reflection on Jesus’ words in Matthew 18:1-4, “Love Your Enemies,” which is a call to do one of the hardest things Jesus ever taught, and the hauntingly beautiful “Take Up Your Cross.”

My favorite song from the concert, and from his new album, is called “I See the Birds,” and it is a reflection on Matthew 6:26—“Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?” Being a person who has had bouts of anxiety throughout my life, Jon Guerra’s beautiful refrain at the end of his song has helped me on dark nights since I first heard it. When you connect with art and it offers personal light while in the midst of grief, or fear, or anger, that art leaves a huge mark. It has also been a song that I’ve shared with my daughter, as she, too, has my genetic disposition to feel stress, and she loves it as well. I adore how art can be a bridge to bring people together. I think it is one of the main reasons God gave us art to begin with. It was through his great act of creation that connected us together and to him. Here are the lyrics to “I See the Birds:”

Finding Jon’s music has been a deep blessing to me, not just those songs that wouldn’t be played on contemporary Christian radio, but even more importantly, all the others that could be. The world needs great art to be made about Jesus, his teachings, and his Kingdom. We need songs that challenge us, and trouble us, but we also need songs that comfort us, and songs that speak of love. We need meals at three-star Michelin restaurants, and we also need candy bars. But there remains a simple truth, that there is no way I would have fallen in love with Jon’s music if he didn’t take the great risk of writing songs like “American Gospel” or “Citizens.” It was seeing those songs of risk that caused me to feel safe to put my trust in his art and vision. It’s the same exact reason why I follow Jesus.

Jon Guerra was interviewed just a few weeks after I saw him play his show in Boston on the podcast “Makers and Mystics,” and this quote of his as he was reflecting on his own journey to becoming a Christian artist struck my soul like a ton of bricks:

I never thought I would be doing Christian music, and I certainly never thought I would be writing music as directly Scriptural and spiritual, combining these two things that are deep loves of mine. I never thought this would be what I would be about. (As a teenager) I didn’t listen to a ton of Christian music. The worship music thing didn’t click for me when I was in high school and college. I was more into the post rock of Radiohead and Sigur Rós. When I am sad I still go watch Bjork videos and just warm myself by her fires. But realizing that because of my experience, because of my parents, because of my love, because of my training, this is actually the thing I’m meant to contribute to the world. There is great satisfaction in making sense of the things that I love, spirituality, and the love of God. That has been a great invitation to a life that had you asked when I was 19 I would say not a chance.

Jon Guerra

I want to end this piece by simply thanking Jon Guerra for taking risks with your art and helping me open my own cloudy eyes to the possibilities that the Creator of all creativity calls all of us to be. Thank you for being a spark that is still showing me how much I still need to personally grow.

Let’s all take Jesus’ lead and surprise people with radical love, forgiveness, and risky art all about his Upside-Down Kingdom.

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