Rites, Rituals, and Redemption

Confessions in the Dark: A Lyrical Challenge to Faith and Finances
Preston Ivan Lewis’s Rites, Rituals, and Redemption, working title: Confessions in the Dark, isn’t just a song—it’s a searing critique of modern institutional religion. With biting wit and soulful urgency, Lewis dissects the tension between spiritual authenticity and the commercialization of faith, asking whether rites and rituals serve the soul or the ledger.

The track opens with a deceptively simple question: “Have you ever done something wrong?” It’s a universal prompt, but Lewis quickly pivots to skepticism. “Go make confession, it won’t take long”—a line dripping with irony. The speaker refuses to pay a “fee” for forgiveness, scoffing at the price tag on redemption. “Ten percent of my soul” feels exploitative, a metaphor for tithing practices that prioritize financial gain over genuine repentance. Here, Lewis challenges the commodification of guilt, where sin becomes a product to be sold and absolution a transaction.

The chorus amplifies this tension, lambasting churches for prioritizing opulence over charity. “So many rites, so many rituals—what are they for?” he asks, contrasting grand projects like “coliseum-sized” basketball courts with the urgent need to “help the poor.” It’s a critique of religious institutions that focus on attracting congregants with amenities rather than addressing systemic inequality. The lyrics “can’t breathe in this space” evoke crowded sanctuaries where community is stifling, not nurturing—a paradox for spaces meant to foster connection.

In Verse 2, Lewis targets the hypocrisy of faith-based nonprofits. “They claim to be charities, a noble front,” he sings, but the “game of faith” feels like a scam. The line “your house needs a new wing, is it ever done?” underscores a cycle of endless expansion, where resources flow into buildings rather than people. Whether Christian or Jewish, the song argues, religious traditions risk losing their moral core when love becomes transactional.

The bridge and guitar solo dive into introspection. “Whispers in the night, questions in the dark” invite listeners to examine their own motivations. Is this faith, greed, or fear driving our actions? The solo’s haunting melody mirrors this internal conflict, as Lewis sings of “faith versus greed” and “empty creed,” suggesting that rituals without reflection are hollow. This section feels like a turning point, urging listeners to seek truth beyond dogma.

The outro circles back, leaving us with a choice: Will we cling to empty rituals or “break those chains” in pursuit of authentic spirituality? The final lines—“In every confession, let your spirit take flight”—hint at hope, suggesting that redemption isn’t bought or performed but discovered through honesty.

Confessions in the Dark is a call to action, challenging believers and skeptics alike to reexamine where their priorities lie. In a world where institutions often mask greed as devotion, Lewis’s lyrics remind us that true faith must breathe, adapt, and serve—not just survive.