Ring Them Bells

This is a gem of a Dylan song: not a big, gaudy rock, but a modest yet finely wrought masterpiece.

It was released in 1989 on his album Oh Mercy, so it’s not from any of his early years, during which his work was more consistently revered. The album was produced by Daniel Lanois, and critics are somewhat divided over the success of his efforts in rendering Dylan’s voice and compositions.

I find the original version by Dylan to be pretty underwhelming, but the song came alive for me when I heard it performed by Sarah Jarosz. She recorded it on her second album, Follow Me Down, from 2011, and she’s included it consistently in the several live shows of hers that I’ve seen.

For me the Dylan version seems a bit slow and somnolent, while the Jarosz version feels much more spirited. Partly, I suppose, it’s the difference between the performance of a world-weary man approaching the half-century mark, working on his 26th album, versus a youthful 20-year old working on her second. But it’s also that Jarosz is both a fine singer and instrumentalist, and she brings some additional verve to both the singing and the playing.

But give one or both versions a listen, or view this rendition on YouTube, and join me as we review the lyrics.

Ring them bells, ye heathen,
From the city that dreams.
Ring them bells from the sanctuaries
'Cross the valleys and streams:
For they’re deep and they’re wide,
And the world’s on its side,
And time is running backwards
And so is the bride.

Ring them bells, St. Peter,
Where the four winds blow.
Ring them bells with an iron hand
So the people will know:
Oh it’s rush hour now,
On the wheel and the plow,
And the sun is going down
Upon the sacred cow.

Ring them bells, Sweet Martha,
For the poor man’s son.
Ring them bells so the world will know
That God is one.
Oh the shepherd is asleep
Where the willows weep,
And the mountains are filled
With lost sheep.

Ring them bells, for the blind and the deaf;
Ring them bells, for all of us who are left;
Ring them bells, for the chosen few
Who will judge the many when the game is through….
Ring them bells, for the time that flies,
For the child that cries
When innocence dies.

Ring them bells, St. Catherine,
From the top of the room.
Ring them from the fortress,
For the lilies that bloom.
Oh the lines are long,
And the fighting is strong,
And they’re breaking down the distance
Between right and wrong.

One of the interesting things about this song is that, unlike most Dylan songs, and most songs in general, there are no characters, and there is no dramatic structure.

More than that, the structure of the song is accumulative rather than linear: additional details are filled in as the song continues, but there is no sense of one thing leading to another, ending in some sort of denouement.

This is one reason why the title of the song is not revealed in the chorus, or in a final line, but is used to start the song, and then repeated frequently. One might also see this as part of the usual structure for persuasive writing, with the author opening their arguments by stating their thesis.

But even the details that Dylan accumulates for us are suggestive, rather than specific. The effect is to imply a universality to his message, one not limited to any specific actor, locale or situation.

So, once all the brush strokes are filled in, what do we have?

Well, the lyrics include references to saints and to God and to heathens and to characters from the Christian Bible, as well as to the ringing of bells often found in churches, so one might be tempted to interpret the song as some sort of Christian proselytizing.

That would be a mistake, though, I think.

Recall what Dylan told an interviewer in 1997:

Here’s the thing with me and the religious thing. This is the flat-out truth: I find the religiosity and philosophy in the music. I don’t find it anywhere else. Songs like “Let Me Rest on a Peaceful Mountain” or “I Saw the Light” – that’s my religion. I don’t adhere to rabbis, preachers, evangelists, all of that. I’ve learned more from the songs than I’ve learned from any of this kind of entity. The songs are my lexicon. I believe the songs.

So in this song, perhaps, Dylan is trying to impart some sort of religious feeling and philosophy, but without dragging along the entire weight of any particular religion or church or book or teacher. Instead, I believe he is using these images because they are a handy part of a shared cultural heritage, but not necessarily indicators of any overall endorsement of Christianity.

So, having dispensed with something that is not there, what is there?

First, one might ask to whom is the song addressed, and where are the bells to be rung?

And the answers seem to be… everyone and everywhere: the heathens in the cities, the recluses in the sanctuaries, across the valleys and streams, where the four winds blow, from the top of the room and from the fortress.

And then one might ask: for whom are we ringing the bells? Well, for the poor man’s son, for the lost sheep, for the blind and the deaf, for all of us who are left, for the chosen few, for the child that cries, and for the lilies that bloom. Again, it’s a lengthy and perhaps somewhat all-inclusive list.

And now we come to what must be the central question: what is being asked of us? What is Dylan asking for when he commands us repeatedly to “ring them bells”?

Well, we might observe that the ringing of church bells to call a community together is a practice dating back to at least the early Middle Ages. And some similar means of calling members to prayer is present in almost all religions. So here, as in All Along the Watchtower, Dylan is using ancient images and symbols that suggest he is talking about some common element of humanity that runs right through our history for at least a millennium.

And of course any ringing of bells is a very public call to action, a call to a community to come together for some common purpose.

And what is this purpose?

Well, to put things right. To stand the world upright. To make time run forward, towards some goal. To have the bride run towards a union, instead of away from it. To lift us all out of a frantic rush hour going back and forth between joyless labor and isolated homes. To restore an empathy for those who are suffering, and to take action to lessen that suffering. To end the weeping. To return our shepherds to their true calling of caring for their flocks. To allow children and perhaps the rest of us to enjoy some sense of innocence. To restore and preserve the distance between right and wrong.

In some sense, of course, this is a Christian message. But I came across a quotation recently that seems informative in this context.

The goal is not to bring people to Christianity, the goal is to bring people to love. If that’s through Christianity, fine. It it’s another religion or no religion at all, fine. What the world needs is love, not more people professing right belief.

And so, when Dylan asks us to “ring them bells so the world will know that God is one,” I believe he is asking us to acknowledge and respect a universal moral code based on love and empathy for others, not to worship in some particular church, or pray to some particular god.

And so we have, perhaps, a sermon of sorts. But the artistry of the song lies in its indirection, in its patient and roundabout cataloging of supporting elements, in its short and emphatic and repeated statement of its central thesis.

Another Dylan gem for the ages, and a call for a more just and inclusive society.