Oh Be Careful, Little Mouth, What You Sing

I write this from an uncomfortable place -- I'm afraid right now. Our church’s excellent music leader recently announced that he’s leaving for another ministry. I’m very hopeful that his new ministry will expand the borders of his influence for the kingdom, but, perhaps selfishly, I’m afraid for our church. Our present music director is impeccably trained and musically talented. It shows in his work. He also exhibits some affinity for music with theologically rich lyrics. I know these traits are not all that common in worship leaders. Not long ago, my family spent a few months visiting many churches around the area. We saw enough to know that there is reason to be afraid, very afraid. With one or two exceptions, the music ministries at the several churches we visited left very much to be desired. It's clear that our present music director will not be easily replaced. I’m afraid he’ll be impossible to replace. I tend to trust the powers that be at our church, but I’m still afraid. Here are three characteristics I’m hoping they’ll look for in a replacement, in order of importance to me.

1) Theologically rich lyrics. First, I want a music director who is committed to theologically rich lyrics. For the few people who pay attention to my Facebook page, you’ve seen me ride this hobby horse before. I favor songs like one of my favorites, "Arise, My Soul, Arise." Every time I sing this song, I am enriched by the profound soteriological concepts beautifully expressed there. If you wonder why I sometimes bemoan some contemporary Christian worship songs, I challenge you to try this experiment. Take a week or two teaching your way through "Arise, My Soul, Arise" with your child. Then take a week or two teaching your way through today’s most popular 7/11 chorus. See the difference?

I can’t help but see a connection between the present popularity of “substance-lite” lyrics and a diminished view of God. My view of God was developed, in part, by singing songs like “Immortal, invisible, God only wise, In light inaccessible hid from our eyes, Most blessed, most glorious, the Ancient of Days, Almighty, victorious, Thy great name we praise.” (That’s just the first verse.) My kids learn about God by singing “You're a good, good father, It's who you are, it's who you are, it's who you are.” There’s more of the same to this song, but that pretty much covers the theological content. Perhaps I should not be surprised that I now see the “big man upstairs” attitude toward God (which used to be limited to the world outside the church) finding its way into evangelical Christianity when we are diminishing the language that we use to describe Him within the church?

I understand that I am swimming against the current here, but I am convinced that the “dumbing down” of corporate worship parallels the debasing of our broader culture. Many worship songs tend to be purely emotional, stripped of any substantive doctrinal content. Similarly, modern American political campaigns are emotional affairs, denuded of any policy substance. "Kasich seems like a nice guy." "Cruz's smile creeps me out." These are real "reasons" real people have given for supporting a political candidate. And should we be surprised? Fox and CNN have for decades been peddling an infotainment product that is long on pretty faces and short on substance. They get us riled up, but they don't teach us anything. And so we see the rise of substance free candidates who engage voters on a purely emotional level. That’s bad for politics. I think it’s worse for worship.

Let me clarify a couple of things that I am not saying. First, I am not saying that worship should be stripped of emotion. To the contrary, I challenge anyone to sing and engage with “Arise, My Soul, Arise,” and not feel the emotion. The choice isn't between emotion and no emotion. It's between emotion along with doctrinal engagement and pure emotion stripped of anything that appeals to the mind.

I also am not saying that all contemporary songs are bad, clearly they are not. If you are tempted to reject what I’m saying as “chronological snobbery,” I would respectfully suggest that you check your own commitment to chronology, because I am not merely an old guy who likes old music. I would cite "In Christ Alone" and "His Robes for Mine" as good examples of content-heavy contemporary worship songs. On the flipside, it's also the case that not all "old hymns" are content-laden. The debasing I'm talking about didn't start in the 21st century. Many early 20^th century "hymns," including some of the old favorites, are sappy, emotional, and shallow, imho. It's just more striking today because content-free worship songs tend to have fewer words and more repetition now, having given up any pretense to content. I'm not against contemporary music. I prefer more substantive contemporary music to less substantive music. (The same goes with old songs -- I like to sing old songs that mean something.) To prove that this is not just another rant by an old guy against CCM, here are three links to contemporary Christian music ministries that I’ve found tend toward theologically rich lyrics: Church Works Media, Getty Music, and Watchsong.

This also is not about musical styles. I can enjoy various styles of music, but this is not about what I enjoy. I do prefer a more dignified style in my worship music since I think a certain seriousness is necessary to the best worship, but that is not what I am talking about here. I am talking only about the substantive content of the lyrics.

   

Finally, I don't deny that relatively shallow, somewhat mindless, very sentimental worship can be "good." But I think substantive, thoughtful, meaningful, and heartfelt worship always would be "better." My beef, if I have one, isn't with shallow worship. It's with worship leaders who should, imho, be leading from the "good" to the "better." I believe that, before any new song is sung by the congregation, the lyrics ought to be reviewed by a pastor to discern whether they have a message and whether that message is biblical. If the song fails either of those two tests, it should be relegated to being sung on the radio and excluded from congregational singing. Better yet, the message of any new song should be taught by a pastor (perhaps on Sunday or Wednesday night) before the song makes its debut on Sunday morning. I think this requirement would discipline song selection. And I imagine some would be surprised that many popular songs are strings of cliches without any real meaning.

2) Musical training and competence. The second thing I’m looking for in our new worship leader is a level of musical competence. I think a college degree in music is essential. In my limited experience, I’ve found that trained musicians avoid one of the great mistakes of many “worship leaders” – trying to use popular recordings for congregational singing. As it turns out, many of the top tunes on the CCM charts are “unsingable” by a normal congregation. This should not be surprising. Those songs were written, arranged, and recorded to sound good and to sell records when sung by professionals (after a lot of studio production), not for congregational singing. It seems to me that trained musicians tend to understand this better than amateurs. I also would be more confident that a trained musician would understand, for example, when hammering the djembe fits with the style of a particular song, and when it doesn’t.

3) Talent. I put this last because I think it may be the least important. Don’t get me wrong, it’s important. Our current music director is a huge talent, and that’s a big help. I’ve suffered under worship leaders who are always singing just below the pitch being played by the piano. It’s jarring to the ear. But I put vocal talent last because I’ve found that when a congregation is led in worship by a talented singer who lacks the first two qualities I’m looking for, the song service tends to devolve into a performance. The leader stands up there singing out with his eyes closed, neither knowing nor caring whether the congregation is with him. His sweet, melodious voice fills the room, and that’s all that matters. Reducing the congregation to an audience is not what I’m looking for in a music director.

Having said all of that, I am trying to learn through this to trust. Ultimately, the church is God’s church. I trust Him to give us the gifts we need to live the corporate lives He’s called us to live.

Halloween and the Reversal of the Great Commission

Everyone is free to read this, but this is particularly addressed to Christians.

One of my adult daughters and I took my ten-year-old son out trick-or-treating yesterday evening while his mother manned the candy bowl at home. As we wandered around the streets with many of our neighbors whom we rarely see and knocked on many doors that are never otherwise opened to us, I was struck by how many more points of contact we had with our neighbors than we have on any other day or even any other month. Seeing all of my neighbors smiling and opening their doors (as we were doing the same), it was hard to imagine that many evangelical Christians struggle with how we might reach our neighbors with the gospel.

Reflecting on those ideas made me afraid. I fear we evangelical Christians may be reversing the Great Commission. Jesus commanded His disciples to “go” and teach and make disciples. But I am afraid that we evangelical Christians have developed a tendency to “stay” in our churches and invite the world to come in. I fear that this reversal of the Great Commission from “go” to “stay and invite” is not good for evangelism and is not good for edification within the church.

Peter gave us a blueprint for outreach in 1 Peter 2. He begged his readers as “strangers and pilgrims” to remain “honorable” in their “conduct” so that when unbelievers speak against them (not if, but when), those unbelievers may see their good deeds and glorify God. And how did Peter follow up this exhortation to glorify God through good deeds before unbelievers? Did he say “invite them to your solemn assemblies” so they can see your good works? No. Take note, Peter told his readers to submit to “every human institution.” The word translated “institution” is quite broad. The examples given relate to human government, but the exhortation is broader. Peter goes on to say that “so is the will of God, that with well doing you may silence the ignorance of foolish men.” Then Peter sums up with “Honour all men. Love the brotherhood. Fear God. Honour the king.”

Here’s why that passage came to me last night. We came to one house that had a long table set up in the driveway with several bowls of candy, each with an address in front of it. One of the adults standing there explained, “When you come to some of these houses on the street with their lights off, they’re not being ‘jerks’ (his word), we’ve just combined in this one spot.” (Others of our neighbors also had gathered together in the street to pass out candy together.) Then it hit me. Do they think people who don’t participate in trick-or-treat are “jerks”? What about all my evangelical Christian brethren who are trunk-or-treating at their churches right now? Is their testimony sullied? Is Halloween a “human institution” to which we must submit for the sake of our testimony?

Note the question marks at the end of that paragraph. I’m not being dogmatic about participating in Halloween. I know some in good conscience cannot participate, and to violate conscience is neither wise nor safe. But I am saying that when we withdraw from ordinary human institutions we run the risk of running afoul of 1 Peter 2. Peter (and Jesus) told us to go into human society and live the gospel, not retreat into our churches and invite unbelievers to come in. I know that there are things we simply cannot do with unbelievers. But there also are things we can do, and we should do. What message does it send when we isolate ourselves in our Christian enclaves?

And here’s the other, equally disturbing, side of the isolationist coin. When we withdraw from society, we still know that we have an obligation to reach the world with the gospel. So what do we do? We invite the world to come into our churches. Well what unbeliever wants to sit through a careful exposition of Scripture? What unbeliever will want to participate in a deep and meaningful song service? No problem, we’ll just add flashing lights, smoke machines, electric guitars, and simple, repetitive lyrics. That will make the song service tolerable. As for those expository sermons, we’ll just tell moral stories instead. We’ll work in “biblical principles.” We’ll make the sermons both entertaining AND good moral teaching. Then unbelievers will tolerate them. This is the way of the “seeker friendly” church.

What is sacrificed? The full-orbed worship and teaching of Scripture that we need as believers. We sacrifice our own edification to make our churches tolerable for unbelievers. The writer of Hebrews tells us that we must assemble together to inspire each other to love and good deeds. Our assembly is for our edification, not for outreach. The Bible doesn’t tell us to make our churches comfortable for “seekers” – we’re supposed to be the “seekers,” going out into the world and living lives before them that are above reproach. When we bring the world into the church, the unbelievers aren’t reached (no matter how entertaining, church can never compete with HBO), and we’re not edified. The church becomes stagnant and ineffectual.

Here’s what I’ve concluded. When it comes to evangelism, I need to consciously keep myself in the world whenever possible. I might have to withdraw sometimes, but my prejudice should be to hang in there and live the gospel. (Even writing that is convicting.) But I must come apart from the world from time to time for mutual edification and support with my believing brethren. I must do both, go and withdraw. I shouldn’t blur them together, because then I’m doing neither.