Bob Dylan Is Born Again (A Bob Dylan Story, Chapter 5)

you thought you knew died. This is his story once again. This is doctor ed Sailor. Is now day five, August six. I just finished my review of the patient Robert Zimmerman, a k a. Bob Dylan here at my home in Middletown, New York. The laceration to his leg is healing nicely. It's an injury so minor that I've failed to eat mentioned it so far. I mentioned it now because everything else seems to be returning to normal. As for Bob himself, I'm afraid he's not in the best shape mentally speaking.

He's struggling to process what seems like a minor accident. He's not sleeping, something I've tried to rectify with more morphine. I shall, however, review this over the coming days, as it seems to have brought on more hallucinations. Only this morning he was claiming he's seen Jesus Christ, our savior. That's who I'm talking about. Being noticed can be a burden. Jesus got himself crucified because he got himself noticed. That's why I change a lot when you think about it.

No matter which way you look, Jesus is the answer. He died for sinners, and through his death he paid for all us ends. I've been touched by Jesus physically. Did you know that it happened? I didn't imagine it. It changed me forever. Sometimes you have to be directed by a higher power, gotta serve somebody. You make yourself in this life, but you can be informed by those who have a broader perspective. Christ entered my life in

the late nineteen seventies. His words and actions gave me comfort, knowledge, salvation for everyone else. For those who didn't believe me, they just saw it as fresh blood on the tracks. Chapter five, Bob Dylan is born again. The prayer of faith shall save the sick, and the Lord shall raise him up. And if he hath committed sins, they shall be forgiven. I'm sure you've seen by now that transfiguration

can come in many forms. It can be physical, it can come through song, through lifestyle, but it can also come through faith. I was born into the Jewish faith, and it's something that I've taken great wisdom from. I was bar mitzvahed two, but later in my life I began to have an interest in Christianity religious transfiguration. If you will now, let me make this clear. The teachings of God, the Bible, Jesus were in my work before in the same way they are in my work after.

They've been one of the few constants in fact, but for a brief time, those teachings dominated my music completely. A rock and roll preacher, that's what they called me. In a way, spreading the good news was the most rock and roll thing to do. Jesus Christ I preached for three years, just like Jesus himself. Not that I'm comparing myself to him, of course. Sure I've sold more records than him, but he did save us all, so

I think he wins this round point. Being the Bible and the Lord have always been there in my songs. I mean, I mentioned the Devil in the first verse of the first song on my first album, Go and Look it Up. It's there Christ entered my life. Look at the John Wesley Harding album too. That one's got lots of the Good Book in it. But no one had a problem with that when it came out. They loved it. In fact, even Elvis himself said, rock and roll is basically just gospel music or gospel music mixed

with rhythm and blues, so it's a wonder. There was such a big backlash when I started singing about Jesus and Christianity overtly. People thought I was preaching at them, but I was just offering a point of view like I've been offered when I first started going to church. Being noticed it could be a burden. The shift in my work came on the album's Slow Train, Coming Saved and Shot of Love. Those are albums I still get behind to this day, but other people, other people couldn't

get behind them. I still can't to this day. Even John Lennon had an issue with it. I didn't imagine it. John Lennon, Mr. Peace and Love wrote a song called Serve Yourself Have you ever heard that, not a lot of people have. It's only a demo. It's rough, like a sketch, very punk, very angry. You got to hand it to John and he could write a song, but

the subject matter that was less appealing to me. He wrote it as a reply to my song Gotta Serve Somebody a little glib pardy agitated swipe at my interest in Jesus. He was rattled and why did he care so much about what I was singing about. Maybe he wanted a little revenge for my song fourth time Around, which was a friendly dig at his Norwegian wood. Who knows.

Despite a lot of reactions like that, I still went ahead and spread the word of the Lord on those three albums in the three gospel tours to promote them. Jesus the Answer. Some shows on those tours reminded me of that Newport Folk Festivals show, which is funny because with my message, I was being the complete opposite of Judas really, but some of the crowd just didn't get at it. It's not what they came to see, it's

not what they wanted to see. I was singing about the same things I was singing about before, just in a different way, but they couldn't see it, and that wasn't my problem. But it is your problem. It's our problem. Shut up. Like I was saying, those shows, I wouldn't change them, same for those albums. What an artist can't change and adapt? Transfiguration moves in mysterious ways. You can't

always decide how it moves and how you change. T Bone Burnett, David Mansfield, Stephen souls Bono, all those guys found salvation like me, differences. No one gave them a hard time. We're different. You know that. You shut up. The question I asked all the time is why why did I start singing about Jesus and the Lord so intense sleep? Why did I embrace Christianity? I had my reasons, and we'll get to them in time, but let me tell you right now, it was not because I was

having a personal crisis. I've seen that written lots of times before. People think you find religion when you're down and out, Well, not me. Is that some kind of joke. Don't listen to him. Our personal life wasn't in crisis. Our personal life was fine. We had three girlfriends at once Helen could have been five. Don't use that word. Hell yeah, that word. Don't talk about private matters either. Our relationships broke up. So what broke up? We ruined them.

We were on a self DESTRUCTI mission with our private life. How so February ninety seven, remember Malcolm, our girlfriend at the time sat around the breakfast table, the family breakfast table. Then our wife came in. How would you feel if you came down and saw the person you were married to sitting with his lover around the breakfast table with your kids. That was your idea, It was your idea, and then you screamed at her. All right, our marriage

fell apart. That's not unusual. Every relationship we had at the time fell apart. Then there's the drugs and drink here we go. Yeah, you can act like that when you're twenty one. But might I remind you of our profession. Oh then there's the film Bobby and Sarah whatever we call it. My god, that fucking film it was called Ronaldo and Clara. How much time do we waste on that? How much money it? It was? We were such a mess that you wanted to stay on tour because you

couldn't bear to go home. That's the truth, isn't it? Pathetic, a little boy lost. Okay, you've made your point. Look it's true it wasn't the best time for me personally or professionally. But I still dispute that I was lost. I wasn't so much searching for something more, just stumbling around. My girlfriend at the time, one of our many girlfriends, Yes, one of our many girlfriends, Mary Alice Artees she was born again. Whatever that meant. Sometimes you have to be

directed by a higher power. But a lot of what she had to say seemed to be true to me. It resonated with me. I'd come to see, there's no right and left. There's just truth and untruth. There's honesty and hypocrisy. It's all in the Bible. It's the only thing that stays true no matter which way you look. Mary introduced me to the Vineyard Christian Fellowship and Evangelical Christian Denomination. I met all those guys and we talked. I asked them all about the Bible, and they answered

all my questions. They said, if I wanted to know more, there was a Bible class I could attend. I'd assumed i'd be going back on tour soon, and when they told me the class was going to run for three months. I thought they were crazy. I can't give up that much time. One day, though, I remember waking up. I looked at the watch on my nightstand. It was seven am. I was alone, no family with me, no girlfriend around, no tour booked, no band. I don't know why, but

I felt compelled to go. It just made sense. There was something in me that wanted to study, to learn, to change. That's why I changed a lot. I got in my car and drove straight to receive it where the Fellowship's offices were. I stayed for over three months and learned more than I ever thought possible, comfort, knowledge, salvation. Towards the end of Mary was baptized in a swimming pool at the house of a Fellowship pastor. It was total immersion. I went and witnessed the whole thing. Not

long after, I was baptized in the ocean. I've been touched by Jesus. I felt renewed. I had become a different man, this time, transfigured by God. But why, Like I say, everyone asks, why, what happened to spark all of this? Well, it had all started a year earlier. The Lord had given me a sign. If you confess with your mouth Jesus is Lord, and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead. You will

be saved. For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you confess and are saved. The air was thick inside the arena that night. I never understood that expression before, but that night it was thick like smog, hot and close. Well that's how it felt to me. Anyway. We were playing in San Diego, one of those giant places. That's how we did that to all arenas and champagne and parties no matter which way you look. I kept turning

to Billy Cross, my lead guitar player. I kept asking him if it was hot. No, Bob, he kept saying, God, it was so hot. I've never known heat like that. It was like I was staring at Hell cloaked in fur. After a while, they moved one of those big fans next to the stage and pointed it right at us. The rest of the band were shivering, but me, I was on fire. Jesus Christ. I had felt unwell for a while. Touring can do that to you, but this felt ten times worse than anything I've felt before that night,

I'd slid into some sort of feverish existence. When it was time to play Maggie's Farm, I remember I couldn't stop talking. I blurted out some old rubbish like I was invited to play the Newport Folk festist. They invited me three times. I played this song the last time I was there. They never did invite me back. I don't hold any grudges anyway. Sometimes I told this man up here who asked me about the song, sometimes the whole world looks to me like Maggie's Farm. Sometimes I

I ain't gonna work on Maggie's Farm no more. I couldn't stop talking. Between the songs, I was rambling. I felt compelled to talk. Things were just coming to me. I was getting hotter and hotter as the show went on. A fever had started to grip my body. I felt like I was succumbing to it. I didn't imagine it before the song signor. I stood in front of the giant fan and didn't feel a thing, nothing. It was

like a bonfire. I started to ramble again. I took a train once from Monterey, Chihuahua, up to San Diego, I said crowd cheered. This guy was sitting next to me on the rain, a man wearing a blanket. He his eyes were burning up. It was there was smoke coming out of his nostrils. I thought I'd talked to him. When I turned around to look at him, he was gone. The crowd cheered again. Could they not see the state I was in? Do they not notice? I was making

less sense as the night wore on. Being noticed can be a burden. We played the song and I felt even worse. In fact, I wasn't sure i'd be standing by the end of it. The final notes rang out, and I felt like something was seriously wrong. I took a few steps forward, the sweat from my head dripping onto the stage floor. As I walked, A white mist appeared in the corner of my vision, and the loud sounds of the arena slowly disappeared. It all sounded like

I was under water. I felt my body about to give away, But then something caught my eye high power. Someone had thrown something onto the stage. Now, people throw things onto the stage all the time. It's not usually too bad. Tom Jones got panties. I'm more likely to get a paperback. But this time it was something small, something silver. It caught the light as it lay there. It looked closer and saw that it was a silver cross. Christ injured my life. Now. Usually I don't pick anything

up that is thrown on the stage. But the way this cross caught the light, it lured me in and the feverish heat. This cross looks so cool, It looked calming. It looked like salvation. Jesus is the answer. I bent down, picked it up and placed it in my pocket. Twenty four hours later and I was on another stage and another arena. This time it was Arizona. I felt even worse. I was feverish again. I saw dots in front of my eyes. Made me think of those flashes from the

camera bulbs way back at the Newport Folk Festival. Images from that day began to flash into my mind. Then I saw the road in Woodstock where I rode my motorcycle. It changed me forever. I smelled the Hell's Angels gasoline. I saw the blood dashed against the wall of the Lafayette. That's who I'm talking about. Then I remembered the cross. I reached into my pocket. It was still there. I grabbed it and held it tightly holding on for dear life. Touching it was like a shock to my system. When

I touched it, like a needle in my arm. Touched by Jesus, my fever slowly came down. I began to see properly in both senses. I was slowly brought to life. After the show, I put the cross around my neck. It transfigured me. I ended up wearing it for the rest of that tour. It even influenced the songs we played during the shows. I changed the lyrics to some of those songs straight away, Tangled Up in Blue, for example, In that song, I mentioned a mysterious lady in a

topless bar, quoting an Italian poet from the century. But live with that cross around my neck, I changed the lyrics to her, quoting the Bible, the Gospel according to Matthew, to be precise, That's who I'm talking about. It felt right. Even my songs transfigured along with me. I knew something had changed on that tour, something seismic. But what I didn't know was the Lord was just getting started with me. Soon we'd meet. We'll be right back after this. Were

were were? The Lord blesses thee and keeps thee. The Lord make his face to shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee, and gives the peace. Tucson, Tucson, Arizona. That's where it happened. That's where my life changed forever. If you could have given me a million guesses as to where my life would alter beyond all recognition, I never would have said Tucson, Arizona. But it's true. I didn't imagine it. We were playing another show, another arena.

Although my fever had improved, I still wasn't right. I was still being eaten up by something. Before we played Seor, I told the same story on the stage, the one about the man on the train, that man with the smoke coming out of his nostrils and whose eyes were burning up. I couldn't stop thinking about him. The whole scene kept coming into my mind. That's what I'm talking about. I saw him in my dreams and in my waking hours too. I was haunted by him. I didn't even

know who or what he was. On stage, I started to feel dizzy again. The heat had returned, and I felt my temperature rocket all Just after thinking about him. I reached into my pocket and found the cross again I clutched it tight, but this time it didn't help like it had before. I knew I needed to up my dose, so I took it out of my pocket and put it around my neck for all to see. You make yourself in this. As soon as I put it there, the cross leveled me out. This tour had

been draining. Where the motorcycle crash and woodstock back in sixty six had slowed my life down, my life had regained its velocity. By this point. I was once again reaching breakneck speed directed by a higher power. But the cross, the cross brought calm to me, to my world, to everything. The rest of the show sailed by, I was feeling better and better that night. When I was driven back to the hotel, they let me out at the front entrance.

I didn't go in. I just stood in the parking lot, breathing the fresh air and gulps, with my new cross firmly around my neck. The parking lot was large and dimly litten. As I stared out into it, I could see something someone an old man with well. He looked like he had a kind of blanket over him. Right there on the other side of the lot. He looked like the thing from that train. I ran to where I had seen him, but he'd already gone. I searched

the parking lot over and over, but nothing. After looking for almost an hour, I gave up. Being noticed can be a burden. I thought it must be lack of sleep that was making me think this way, so I called it a night. I made my way to my room, walking quickly down the long hotel corridor. It was so quiet. All I could hear were my footsteps. I don't know why, but I became aware that I was tensing up. Every door I passed seemed to make me more and more tense.

The faster I walked, the more doors I passed, the more tense I became. I thought I felt breath on my neck. I felt like I could feel eyes on me too. I pulled the cross off my neck and held it tightly in my hand as I walked faster and faster down the corridor. By the time I came to my room, I was out of breath, partly due to my pace, but also due to my rising anxiety. No, not anxiety, terror, Jesus Christ. I fumbled with my room key, but I dropped it. I could feel that breath again.

I spun around, but there was nothing. I clumsily picked up the key and threw open the door. As it slammed behind me, I ran to the window on the other side of the room. I pulled the curtains back and scanned the view silence. My room was facing the parking lot. I looked all over for that man, but again nothing. I ran back to the door and peeked through the spy hole. Nothing. I cursed that fever again.

I thought maybe I should start cleaning up when I was on the road, start eating properly, cut the booze and the drugs, maybe even stop touring. Traveling can do things to your body and mind a lot. I slumped down onto the bed, holding the cross closely to my chest. As I closed my eyes, I'd never been more ready for sleep. The room began to spin again. I thought the fever was back, but I was wrong. The bed rumbled beneath me. I felt a huge movement, like the

world around me was splitting in two. But I can't explain it. The world itself, the physical world was normal, but the spiritual world was splitting, moving changing somehow all around me. Sometimes you have to be directed by a higher power. I thought it must be that that thing, that man with the smoke coming out of his nostrils. But it felt different. This felt comforting. My temperature was rising again, my heart began to pound. I kept my

eyes closed and held the cross. Instantly I felt a presence. I knew what it was straightaway. No one had to spell it out for me. It couldn't have been anybody but Jesus. I knew it was him, Christ, Lord of Lords, King of kings. He was in that room with me. Jesus is the answer. I lay there, stunned. I could feel him all around me, moving around the room. There was a silent grace to it all. I placed the cross on my chest and basked in the glory of it.

I've been touched by Jesus. His presence was confirmed to me in a physical way when I felt a hand on me. I actually physically felt it physically. It started in the center of my body. Then I felt it all everywhere, covering me, cleansing me. The room was spinning quickly. Now my whole body was trembling too. I could feel the cross starting to rattle between my chest and my hand. With my eyes shut tight. I let it all pass over me, and then it stopped. I opened my eyes

and the quiet had returned. The room was empty. There was nothing around me, no bright light, no apparition, no angels, nothing. I looked at the hotel bed and it was covered in sweat, but my body was dry. The fever had gone down, my temperature and heart rate had returned to normal. The glory of the Lord knocked me down and picked me up. It changed me forever. I truly had a born again experience. If you want to call it that,

don't believe me, That's fine. People have told me ever since that they don't believe the Lord himself was present with me in that room that night. I can't prove anything to anyone except to say that I saw the world differently after that. As for the rest of the evening, I didn't sleep at all. Sometime in the small hours, I opened up a drawer on the nightstand. Sliding to the front of the drawer as I did, was a

small King James Bible. I opened it and read. I read for so long that the only thing that took my eyes off those pages was a knock at my door telling me we had to move on to the next show, Comfort, Knowledge and Salvation. We were heading to El Paso, Texas. The show wasn't until the next day, so I spent the next twenty four hours reading that little Bible constantly. My life had begun again. I had experienced rebirth before, but nothing like this. This time it

was from the Lord. It felt like that cross would never leave my neck. I was the property of Jesus now A Pastor Ken Gullikson took a deep breath. He stood in the wings of the stage at the Arrowhead Pond in Anaheim, California. His brain went into intense focus, as it always does in this moment, the moment before he had to address the sea of faces looking back at him, sixteen thousand faces that hung on his every word, the word of God. Pastor Gullikson heard his name announced

and walked confidently to the stage. He was blinded by the bright house lights. Sixteen thou people cheer him on. Good evening, friends, he said. He spoke that day at the Jesus p Bull Reunion. It was his usual rallying sermon. Pastor Gullikson as a knack for speaking to people at events like these. It made him feel like a rock star. He commands the stage like an illusionist and has the charisma of a Hollywood a listern. And by the time he finished, the crowd went wild, like he just performed

a grand opera. Thank you and may God be with you, he bellowed, and then he left the stage. Pastor Gullikson's performance was done, but he was already dreading what was coming next. A journalist from the Assist News service sat waiting for Pastor Gullikson in a sofa lined backstage area. His dictaphone was at the ready. The journalists had requested an interview some weeks ago, and the pastor knew why these news requests were always for the same reason, the

same person, Pastor Gullikson's most famous of students. Four minutes into the interview, it happened. Can we talk about Bob Dylan, the journalists asked, trying to sound off hand. Pastor Gulliksen looked at his watch. Only took the guy four minutes to say the D word. The journalists asked how Pastor Gulliksen came to teach one of the biggest stars in the world all about the Bible. The pastor responded with a well rehearsed, carefully crafted story about a short time

with Bob Dylan, like a good joke. The pastor knew the beats of the story inside out. He paused to add drama at various points, and through in a couple of embellished truths to sensationalize. He executed this story perfectly, just as he had done for more than two decades now. The journalists then suggested that Dylan had lost his faith.

God is not through with him yet, smiled the pastor, maintaining a relaxed exterior, I would ask people to really intercede for Bob to pray without ceasing, that God will access his heart so that he would be open responding again to the truth. Sensing that's poll quotes were about to materialize, the journalist moved his dictaphone closer to the pastor and then asked the next question, do you think Dylan is still on a spiritual journey? Pastor Glickson's tone

became serious as he responded directly into the dictaphone. I believe he is on a greater search than ever. He's getting older and he's struggling with what is the most real being Bob Dylan having this acclaim or having a relationship with God. The journalists asked that the pastor had seen him recently. No, I'm just waiting on the Lord for the right time to initiate contact. The journalists asked a final question, was there a particular moment when Bob

Dylan stopped coming to the church? Pastor Gollokson gave a faint one word reply. No. Nineteen years earlier, Bob Dylan lay blinking in the sunlight, sweating. In fact, the sweat poured off of him, but he wasn't running fever. The hot midday Caribbean sun was the culprit. The sun had beat down on this particular part of the ocean for some time, but now it hit behind a large cloud. Dylan slowly sat up and took in a deep breath.

The salty sea air filled his lungs. He jumped up onto the deck of his boat, the Water Pearl, and took stock of his surroundings. He was off the coast of Martinique, one of the many Caribbean islands he sailed around that summer. Before the end of that summer, you get to see them all. He pulled the sail in, and as he did, he noticed that the wind had picked up. The knocking of rope on the masts suddenly

confirmed that the wind had changed. Clouds formed quickly, and the pearls large sails began to rattle, and the waves started to make the horizon rise and fall while Dylan listened to the wind whistle. Five minutes later, the whole scene was transformed. The wind began its attack on the pearl, so strong that loose items on the deck were picked up and tossed around. A pan of my hat drifted a few inches across the polished wood in A book on the poet Homer lost its page, and the boat's

sails flapped violently. Dylan took a look at the entrance to the ship's cabin. It looked inviting. He knew he could ride out this mini storm in there, if you wanted. He took a few steps toward, but stopped. He suddenly realized this was the moment. He moved to the boat's bow, staring straight into the face of the wind. He saw other vessels on iron waves in the distance. He rose up to his modest but full height and stretched out

his arms. Every muscle and his torso extended. With one swift movement, he grabbed the silver cross from around his neck and yanked it with full force, causing the chain to snap. He took one last look at the iconic symbol and launched it into the air. It sailed to the wind and crashed into the Caribbean Sea. Bob Dylan stood on the ship as the wind blew through him. It was peaceful. An hour later, back in the sunshine on solid Land and Martinique, Dylan made a phone call

from the harbor's booth. His booking agent was on the other line. Dylan agreed to his next project, a musical retrospective tour, a run of shows that would combine Dylan's secular music with his religious songs. Over the next few weeks, another new composition would be added to the rehearsal set list too, Caribbean Wind. Bob Dylan's so called born Again phase had come to an end. Like all his faces, he had shown another side of himself, another transfiguration, another

creative rebirth. It had added to his artistic integrity, challenged his fans, and left a whole lot of blood on the tracks. M Blood on the Tracks produced by Double Elvis in partnership with I Heart Radio. It's hosted an executive produced by me Jake Brennan, also executive produced by Brady sath. Zeth Lundie is lead editor and producer. This episode was written by Ben Burrow, Story and copy editing by Pat Healy, Mixing and sound designed by Colin Fleming.

Additional music and score elements by Ryan Spreaker. This episode featured Chris Anzeloni is Bob Dylan. Sources for this episode are available at double Elvis dot com on the Blood on the Tracks series page, follow Double Elvis on Instagram at double Elvis and on Twitch at Grace and Talks, and you can talk to me per Usual on Instagram and Twitter at Disgrace Land Pond Rock a Roll Herding it