This short essay is a response to a request from one of my pastors about how music worship might be reformed at our local church.
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God glorifies himself in the world in two ways. He glorifies himself by his glory being seen [meaning known, understood] and his glory being delighted in. He who sees God’s glory does not glorify him so much as he who also delights in that glory.
– John Piper
When you suggested I write a short essay on music worship reformation at Summitview, my first response was “define short.” Many books couldn’t contain the full scope of worship of the Lord, and even if they could, I couldn’t write them. To be candid, music worship has never been my forte; I often find my mind snagging on a phrase or lyric and thinking about it until the song is over. So, given the vastness of the subject and the narrowness of the author, this “short” essay will be necessarily limited in scope.
Let me first define these limits by parsing out the phrase “music worship reformation at Summitview,” describing some of the problems as I and others have seen them, and take a shot at what reformation might look like.
The Phrase
First, the phrase is ordered appropriately; the call is for reformation of music worship, not the reformation of worship music. Though the latter will necessarily be affected, we are dealing not only with this or that song, contemporary or traditional tempos, or the instruments used, but also with the patterns, scope, and intentions behind the portion of the worship service that includes music. The Lord’s Supper, prayer, contemplation, and attending to the sermon are also forms of worship we participate in on any given Sunday. And widening the circle, Lord’s Day worship is itself a subset of our lives, all of which are to be worshipful, from washing dishes to teaching children to working and watching football and laughing heartily around a table.
Next, we are considering a reformation of music worship, not a revolution. The former is a pruning process that pares back the dead wood and briars so the fresh, pliant stems can fruit, while keeping the good, juicy berries intact. The latter is a complete upheaval of everything that came before and the imposition of a new regime. Revolution, in this case, would be what the Spanish call “no bueno,” and would probably involve kazoos and male ballet dancers on one extreme, and starch-collared, shape-note singing on the other. Using the word reformation also gives us a rubric to follow by looking at other reformations, such as the Protestant Reformation, of which a church like ours is a product. Magisterial Reformers like Calvin, Luther, and Zwingli sought a return to faith, grace, and biblical solidarity, away from stale, oppressive, and unbiblical tradition, or, as is more likely the case in our day, therapeutic and vapid novelty.
And lastly, the scope of this reformation is limited to Summitview Church: the one on Drake Road in Fort Collins. Our church. And this church is made up of people with last names we know, histories, intermarried children, favorite sports teams, friends’ funerals, and memories of shared holidays. How can this specific group of people maximize their joy and embolden their hearts by singing more perfectly to God in spirit and truth?
The Problem
Music worship is meant to feed the soul and transcend the spirit to see and savor God in his manifest resplendency; it is a moment when we leave time and stroll through a moment of eternity, and for a few blessed minutes wrench our eyes off our self-obsession to participate with the rest of the cosmos in praising the God who is there. Spiritual health, just as in physical health, will be good or bad depending partly on our diet of worship. And just like in our physical diets, what’s on our plates reflects both our physical health and the health of our appetites. What is it we hunger for? Are we filling our bellies with corn-syrupy Slurpees? Or does our obsession with health run so deep that we forget about taste, smells, and colors and eat fermented, locally sourced gruel?
This is another way of asking: what about music worship needs reforming? How can we change our Sunday morning music diets to reflect not only what is good for us, but what should be good to us?
Candid responses within our own ranks show that our worship diet needs revision. An informal poll was taken, and the answers were revealing. Some men said the songs’ pitch is too high for them to sing. Some songs were too musically complex to follow, or they lacked a strong female vocalist leading in harmonies. Several people left the sanctuary simply because it was too loud. Others felt the songs were generally too gloomy, lacked energy, and tended towards defeatism. Notably, several high school girls said they were tired of “therapy language” and would rather sing songs celebrating God’s character. And no offense intended, but when high school girls say the songs are too therapeutic, something is rotten in Denmark.
I did not conduct this survey, but I agree with many of the responses. We have areas of our diet that need reform, both in food choices and in preparation methods, both of which can certainly impact the nutritional status of Summitview souls. And to stick with the nutrition metaphor, we also need songs that are meaty and move beyond the milk.
Participation
One word that is generally absent from modern evangelical worship is participation. While we do “participate” in the technical sense of being physically present, singing, eating and drinking the sacrament, and being attentive to the sermon, modern evangelical worship services tend towards the spectatorial. Talented bands stand on an elevated platform, playing a number of instruments, and we sing the lyrics on a digital screen; some congregants raise their hands, others close their eyes, many subconsciously sway like sea grass.
But music worship is not like sunbathing; we are not meant to simply lie there and tan our souls with the sun of another world. We taste, we see, we eat. Our bodies participate in the gift, and the participation is part of the gift. Singing to the Lord is a stand-alone opportunity for the saints to see and savor God through emotional expression of truth through music.
Liturgy is Latin for “the work of the people.” Non-denominational congregations, like Summitview, tend to get a little antsy around the word liturgy, worried that anything resembling denominational tack means we are moving toward stodgy, stale traditions void of emotion or passion. Or worse, we started the slow drift toward Catholicism, and are just a few Sundays away from praying to Mary. But liturgy is our participation in the worship of God. We engage, we express personal devotion, and lay down our palm branches to welcome the Lord of Glory.
Historically, and in other traditions, congregations stand, kneel, respond, and recite creeds. Even if we do none of these, the congregation can participate in practical ways deeper than mere spectatorship.
First, the band can lower its volume so we can hear not only ourselves but others singing. This is not primarily about personal toleration of decibel levels; it is about experiencing one’s own voice blending, augmenting, and ascending to the throne of God with others’. Encouragement comes by hearing my own and others’ contributions to exulting the Lamb of God, rather than having the airspace completely occupied with amplified instruments, distorted guitars, and clanging cymbals. And if it is a matter of decibels (which, according to some accounts, it is) and the music is so loud that people leave the sanctuary to escape worship, simply turn it down; we want demons running from our worship, not believers. We are not consumers of a spiritually uplifting experience; we are co-actors in the drama of heavenly exultation, and experiencing participation is necessary.
Secondly, we can participate in music worship in practical ways by considering the technical aspect of the chosen music. As has often been noted, modern worship songs tend to have a register more amenable to female voices than men’s. Historically, this is because more women have attended evangelical churches than men. In Leon Podle’s book The Church Impotent, he observes that much of modern Western worship has been pitched, styled, and emotionally framed in ways that feel feminine to men. When men experience worship that tends towards the highly emotional, which both song and key selection can certainly do, men buck or reluctantly participate in worship that can be perceived as “girly” or vocally unattainable.
The title of Podle’s book in part reflects the results of tuning songs outside of the natural male range. It is a cultural joke that when men are hit in the testicles, their voice gets high and squeaky; the subtext of the joke is that hitting the man in his manliness makes him speak effeminately. So, intentionally singing songs that make men sing in an effeminate tone is like kicking him in the spiritual… well, you get the point. Lower the key.
Lastly, we can participate in the contours of worship through songs chosen to do theological work. Songs can be ordered so the music follows God’s saving action rather than merely moving from high-energy songs to start the service to slow songs before the sermon. Choosing songs that match the pattern of Sunday worship (gathering of God’s people, adoration, confession, assurance, and the table) enables me to participate, but also to participate through song, which encourages the heart and mind to engage together in the patterns of worship.
Though liturgy does not have to mean reciting, kneeling, raising hands, etc., nothing says we need to avoid this either. What would it look like if we were led in corporate kneeling (depending on a person’s capability)? Or instructed to all raise our hands for this next song? The soul follows the body in its posture.
Invisibility
I recently watched Christopher Nolan’s The Odyssey and generally thought it was very well done. However, Nolan made several decisions in both language and casting that were anachronistic and suggested a commitment to racial quotas rather than historical accuracy. In effect, just as I was being pulled into the story, Nolan’s modern intrusion reminded me I was in a theatre in the twenty-first century, embroiled in political priors. Sometimes, the way music worship is presented can have a similar extracting effect on participation. Those leading worship ought to practice invisibility, providing a steady, unpretentious current of music that keeps the congregation afloat and moving toward God. Several things can make the waters choppy.
Worship bands, whether exceptionally talented or poorly talented, can have similar effects on a worshipping congregation. A novice drummer with the coordination of a newborn foal, like myself, would distract the congregation, regardless of the drummer’s earnest desire to be a part of the band. Liking to play music is not the same as being good at it or being gifted. Giftedness is determined by excellence in the skill or role, not ardent desire. Band members use their gifts to create beautiful music that carries the congregation, and like a good storyteller, they do their best to become invisible and meld their skill with the other members.
Caution should also be exercised when showing off excessive talent. Melting faces with a smoking guitar riff or launching into a Phish jam session can also distract from the God-oriented worship. Personally, I’m not exactly sure what to do with myself when a guitarist or pianist solos for sixteen bars in between a bridge and a chorus. Stand there and emote? Likely, this will fall into the category of personal preference in worship music, which obviously has great variation, but I do think it ought to be considered in terms of how it may place the band or a talented band member in the foreground in worship. I do, however, think there can be a time for these musicians to display their talent, such as special songs, when the congregation is invited to sit, listen, and reflect. We can create a time when we are meant to spectate and be encouraged by what we hear.
I understand the intent behind extended musical interludes; music is an emotional language, and these interludes can raise passions. But remember that the Holy Spirit’s presence is the key factor in the ecstasy of true worship, not only the emotional experience. How many people who benefit from these emotional musical interludes would act and experience the same emotions when in the front row of a secular concert? Emotive responses must grow from theological soil; experience alone should not be the sole determining factor.
Spirit and Truth
Jesus tells us that anyone who wants to worship God must do it in spirit and truth:
But the hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father is seeking such people to worship him. God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth.
Jesus’ revelation here is packed with all kinds of spiritual yummies, too much to unpack here, but applying this two-fold principle of worship to music, we can say that we need to sing songs that have both a head and a heart. To approach God with theologically sound facts, empty of joy and exultation, will get us the same response He gave the Jews who brought all the right sacrifices but with a beef jerky heart. The ditch on the other side of the road is to exuberantly praise an inadequate or false view of God. It doesn’t matter how frothy or sweaty one gets hopping around on stage if that worship is being directed at a god who only vaguely resembles the God of Jesus Christ, or, what is more likely, who very much resembles ourselves. Emotions need the guardrails of scriptural knowledge, and our view of God must be fueled by a spirit that marvels at what we know.
Anecdotally, Summitview music worship could benefit from tightening both the head and the heart aspects, though I would say more the former than the latter. In order to marvel, we need something worthy of marveling at. This means our primary focus should be on finding worship songs that are more doxological and less therapeutic. Or to put it another way, we need songs that cry to behold, not to be held.
Here are a few suggestions.
First, the entire catalog of current worship songs needs to be laid off, and each needs to be re-interviewed for its job. We need to bring in some restructuring consultants who sit down with every song and ask, “What would you say it is you do here?” If they are theologically sound and doxologically oriented, show them back to their desk; if they are suspect, or whiny, or if the lyrics sound like they were penned by Taylor Swift in the throes of another breakup, chock-full of clunky metaphors, we’ve got no time for that. Who will do this? One idea is for the worship teams to meet separately, review the songs, and see which songs each group independently verifies. It’s okay if the number is small. One key indicator should be whether the song can be traced back to a Bible verse; not a vague idea about God’s love, but a specific verse in the Bible. This verse can then be added to the title slide so we can all see where the song derives its truth.
Thankfully, we have a really long list of theologically buxom, doxologically beautiful hymns saints have penned through the centuries. You can’t go wrong with “A Mighty Fortress,” “All Creatures of Our God and King,” “How Great Thou Art,” and dozens of others that are shoo-ins. Solid, beautiful, and Godward songs are not hard to find. We don’t need to reinvent the wheel, particularly while we are reforming. Get the basics down and go from there; we might consider the quickest way to return to doxological worship is to sing the Doxology.
And while I am on the oldies, I would like to suggest we try not to alter them too much. Lyrics and their music are married; when we take a melodious song like “Before the Throne” and give it a hip, rockabilly vibe, we lose the pathos with which the lyrics were penned. Melody is a maker of mood. Coming before the throne feels a certain way; it swells, it pulls the heart, it makes you feel like kneeling is the only appropriate response. Lyrics are undermined when your heart wants to kneel, but your feet want to do the Texas two-step. The author of the song told us the emotional posture that best fits the song’s lyrics, and he did this through the melody and meter. And in my humble, musically ignorant, but correct opinion, we ought to approach altering these songs with the same caution Chesterton told us to use when removing fences: before you move a fence (or alter a melody or meter), ask why it is there in the first place.
Going back to Podle’s book, song choice also determines men’s participation. I can say this because I am a member of the male sex, and some songs that are up on the screen, I won’t sing because they make me feel feminine. Though I don’t think Summitview sings many “Jesus is my boyfriend”-type songs, few of them are truly and unequivocally masculine.
If we want our emotions to soar in worship, we have to give them songs with stout, broad theological wings. Worship songs that puzzle the soul and leave us confused about what we are singing ought to be avoided. How exactly do heaven and earth meet with a sloppy wet kiss? What does this have to do with God’s love? And why do I feel nauseated? Moses prohibited the Israelites from sacrificing the blind and lame to God, which is an apt description of many modern worship songs. In an attempt to help us see God in a different way, lyricists sometimes get too clever by half, and the result is like one of those sign holders on the street corner that flip and spin the board so deftly one cannot even read the sign. A song may have pithy lyrics or a neat metaphor about fire to give it a flutter of life, but it cannot take the congregation on its wing to the threshold of heaven.
Another suggestion would simply be to sing Psalms. Not a song with a sentence from a Psalm, or a vague allusion to a Psalm, but straight-up Psalms. There are lots, and they would be good for us to learn. I have heard of some churches that will send out or post on their blog a new song they will be singing so the congregation has time to listen and learn.
So each song we choose ought to be theologically sound, and it should be obvious. We want the songs that are the equivalent of taking a shot of 15-year-old Scotch, not a watered-down, sugary concoction with a splash of alcohol. I want to be drunk when I’m done singing.
Conclusion
The fact that this conversation is happening is a win in itself. A church looking to worship God more perfectly, with more participation, and a desire to worship God in spirit and truth is pleasing to God. As John Piper said in the quote above, we don’t only want to glorify God in truth, but also delight in glorifying God. The suggestions in this essay are certainly not exhaustive. They may not even be the most expedient to pursue. But I do think there are considerations that can move us closer to worshiping God in song, which is an end in itself.
Thought Butter 