Moving beyond belief

“It was a journey that started just over four years ago,” says Timmons.

“I’ve been a religious guy for ages, but that was the time when Jesus really apprehended my heart, so I started writing from that perspective. I didn’t start out to get signed or become a pop star. I made a crowd-funded album using Kickstarter and then discovered that people in Nashville were freaking about it. I thought, ‘Really? I’m just a dork.’ But the doors have just opened up all the way along.”

Timmons puts his mission ahead of his reputation, which is commendable. But it must have an impact on his career; on how he makes a living and pays his bills?

“I had a lot more money before,” he admits, “when I was working fulltime in the church.

“Now I’m living on CD sales, which is up and down. But it’s been the best practice possible in terms of meeting the commission I have, which is to invite people to join a conversation about getting to know Jesus, rather than just to believe in Him. I wasn’t commissioned to worry about money.”

Still, there must be some persecution on that front, from other Americans who are more used to overt materialism to fellow Christians who take offence at the subtext of Timmons’s stance – that simply believing is not good enough.

“My goal is not to be against any of those people,” the singer reasons, “but to invite them into a new mindset about the whole deal.

“I find that people want to be followers and disciples, but that we tend to get caught up with Him always being with us rather than us making an effort to be with Him.”

Another angle on the issue that Timmons is quite outspoken about is that there are 10 080 minutes in each week, and that believers should be trying to make the most of each one. Again, there’s a positive thrust there, but having the vision for that sort of thing means that anyone and everyone can – and should – hold him accountable to practice what he preaches.

“There’s plenty I can say that I do and don’t do,” concedes Timmons.

“My whole life, I’ve been involved only in that 80 minutes of church every week. With this new mindset, I think my wife and I are starting to look more like Jesus. We’re still nerds and we’re still selfish, but our lives are becoming more beautiful.”

Co-writing is now almost standard practice in Christian music. Does Timmons’s outlook create friction if his collaborators have different ideas?

“It’s not an easy thing to go into a cowrite with this intent,” he says.

“Most guys just want to write a lot of songs. So there is conflict: I’ll fight for lyrics that I think say the right thing.”

Looking at it from the other side, are some collaborators inspired to try a new approach?

“Everyone wants to write songs that have value and that say something,” says Timmons.

“It’s a matter of not settling for something decent, but choosing to do something important instead.”

Timmons has been quoted before as saying: “I write songs that are prayers that I need to hear.” How often is what he sees put down on paper a surprise to him?

“Not often,” he says.

“Occasionally, there’ll be a line that unexpectedly expresses exactly what I want to say, but most of it has been brewing for a while by the time I start.”

Timmons is currently seven years past the date when doctors told him he should have died from an obscure cancer he still has, so “prayers that I need to hear” is a particularly apt description for his songs.

“Cancer is the opening door,” he smiles.

“It gives me the credibility for the greater commission I have. It’s like a Trojan Horse – it gets me into various situations I might not have otherwise considered. The gift of cancer is perspective. Tomorrow is not a promise.”