A Homecoming: An Engagement with Eric Clapton

His terseness, naturally, makes room for the exact words to take on various meanings, and the stories behind them can be pretty interesting, even provocative.

Presence of The Lord[1] is one such song. Growing up in a small home without electricity and an outside toilet, Clapton’s early childhood was unadorned by luxury. His was a “house full of secrets,”[2] and at last, Eric discovered his Mum and Dad were, in fact, his grandparents. He found solace in a growing love for music as he realised who he was.

Much later, as a rock star, he purchased his Italian-looking villa, Hurtwood Edge, in the English countryside. This purchase apparently inspired the song Presence of the Lord, in which Clapton exults at “having a place in which I could do anything I pleased.”[3] Perhaps he considered himself living in self-styled peerage as the Lord of a Manor?

“I have finally found a place,” rejoices that Clapton could settle down after the privations of his early life, his endless touring, and his having lived in countless other people’s houses. Ironically, however, his talent for “opening any door,” along with his newfound freedom, would seem to have traded the peaceful repose of that promise for his turbulent self-discovery via multiple relationships, drug-taking, and excessive alcohol.

Clapton claims this song “was a very personal statement, not necessarily a religious one…”[4] This “not necessarily” is haunting with its ambivalence. While a religious experience is supposedly denied, this is not altogether excluded. And while one hesitates to impose a Christian worldview upon the song, one can’t help but note that once alcohol and drugs ran their course, the rock star sought detoxification via a Twelve‑Step programme. Clapton himself recounts that in that very environment, as he explored “handing one’s will over to the care of God,”[5] “what saved my life was the unconditional love and understanding that I received from my friends.” Subsequently, on his knees, he “asked for help to stay sober.”[6] It was to be a prayer he believed was granted.

Another popular song of Clapton’s, Tears in Heaven, might not be an intentional “religious statement” either, but I catch myself speculating upon the song’s depiction of an afterlife. Written upon the tragic death of his four-year-old son, the song Tears in Heaven is cathartic, and Clapton admits that performing it was “what I did to stop from going mad.”[7] As he mourns his son, the rock legend imagines himself in heaven, asking some human questions: “Would you know my name?” and “Would you hold my hand?” While these questions of identity and relationship address the displacement felt due to catastrophe, they indicate the emotion behind the lyrics.

Other thoughts of homecoming are evoked. These are articulated in epic literature, from The Odyssey to The Lord of the Rings. Clapton’s words in the Presence of the Lord “I have finally found a way to live,”[8] it seems, are both an accommodation of his settled situation and his feelings of arrival. So, just who is this unnamed Lord? Could it be a ghostly former owner? Or should we explore archetypal psychology, like that found in Homer’s poem? The quest for home is, it appears, universal. Is Clapton’s Lord darker, like one of Tolkien’s? Or might the lyrics simply refer to the Judeo-Christian Lord of Creation?

Given Clapton’s circumstances, abiding and belonging are the most potent ideas in Presence of The Lord. Those ideas are not new, as one New Testament author claims, “[h]ere we have no lasting city, but we seek the city that is to come” (Heb 13:14 AMP), while another reminds us that “our citizenship is in heaven…” (Phil 3:20 ESV). These passages present hope in a permanent future despite the dissatisfactions, indeed alienation, in the present. Returning every so often to Clapton’s refrain, I find myself pondering ultimate restoration and happiness.

In his book Surprised by Hope, Tom Wright asks, “What is the ultimate Christian hope?” and, “What hope is there for change … within the world in the present?”[9] These questions are no less relevant today than when he asked them during the dreadful 9/11 attacks on the Twin Towers in New York. Our extremities do not have to be nearly so dramatic to have a similar impact on us or to cause us to ruminate over ultimate hope. Can such hope be experienced now?

Following Wright’s argument, I note that the final chapters of the Bible witness the arrival of God’s Kingdom (Heaven comes to Earth.) Wright connects this with Jesus’ prayer, concluding, “Your kingdom come, your will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven.” What implications might such a vision have for restoring the world? Can re-creation, informed by a theology that understands human beings as co-opted to working with God, not only restore what has been spoiled but re-create a world subjected to pollution, depletion, and climate disruption, actually work in practice?

Could there be room in Clapton’s concise lyrics for the eventual restoration of all things? “I have finally found a way to live” is neither a vague hopefulness that everything will turn out well nor a resigned acceptance of the inevitable. Phrases such as “in the presence of the Lord” suggest the agency of another, that a relationship is possible, even desirable. It all gives the feeling of recovery on a cold winter’s night beside a warming woodfire in the manor house. As such a Presence increases, so does restoration and, eventually, re-creation. And like Clapton, we might have to fall to our knees and ask God’s assistance.

Moses of old begged not to be sent anywhere without complete assurance that the Divine Presence would accompany him (Ex 33:14–15), and, as Israel’s esteemed prophet, he points beyond himself. It could be that Clapton behaves like a prophet too, neither “…an outsider throwing rocks, or an insider comfortably defending the status quo.”[10] His alienation, along with impending arrival, are experienced by many, while his ambivalence offers space for others to experience homecomings of their own.

Clapton’s “finally found a way to live” suggests a truce between him and that Presence. Is he thinking that Presence is kind or malevolent? Not many answers are evident, and though Clapton’s verse certainly lacks specifics, it generally seems to point toward something spiritual. Without much clarity, a greater Presence may be acknowledged and even experienced, for where there is “a long and available memory … a sense of pain … an active practice of hope … an effective mode of discourse,”[11] a prophetic community begins to take shape, whether one is aware of it or not.

The Christian story of divine self-revelation speaks to a relational Deity residing in the halls and corridors of human experience. It is more expansive and wonderful than many of us imagine. Still, we get clues in a story which runs from burning bush to kingdom come, from Eden lost to Eden restored, from the Patriarchal wanderings, especially the Exodus out of Egypt, to finally a great multitude gathered in the hope of justice and comfort before God’s throne. This is the ultimate homecoming. God’s presence comes to inhabit the earth, a benevolent occupation overturning every notion we have come to associate with the word.

Peter Jelleyman enjoys poetry and music, and is particularly interested in what musicians have to say through their music. For the past nine years he has worked in the Rhema Media organisation in both technical and data processing roles. Researching and writing is something Peter likes to do in his spare time.

[1]Presence of The Lord, video clip, Eric Clapton & Steve Winwood. YouTube https://youtu.be/98XqT4kBWT4

[2] Eric Clapton, with Christopher Simon Sykes, Eric Clapton—The Autobiography (London: Century, 2007), 2.

[3] Clapton, Autobiography, 109–10.

[4] Clapton, Autobiography, 123.

[5] Clapton, Autobiography, 268.

[6] Clapton, Autobiography.

[7] Clapton, Autobiography, 274.

[8] Presence of The Lord, Lyrics “Presence of the Lord”, Eric Clapton. Azlyrics. https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/ericclapton/presenceofthelord.html

[9] Tom Wright, Surprised by Hope (London: Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, 2007), 5.

[10] Richard Rohr Daily Meditation: The Edge of the Inside (email newsletter adapted from Richard Rohr, “On the Edge of the Inside: The Prophetic Position,” Radical Grace 25, no.4 The Eight Core Principles (Fall 2012): 23–26). Rohr adds that “the prophet lives precariously with these two perspectives held tightly together. In this position, one is not ensconced safely inside, not situated so far outside as to lose compassion, or understanding. Prophets must hold these perspectives in a loving and necessary creative tension.”

[11] Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic Imagination, 2nd edn (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2001), Preface to the Revised Edition, xvi. Whereas Bruggeman is specifically defining what he calls “prophetic subcommunities,” I borrow from his ideas with particular regard to the small community of a personal encounter with God, which I feel is more congruent with Eric Clapton’s song.