Recently in Music Category

Truth be told I've tried my best
But somewhere along the way
I got caught up in all there was to offer
And the cost was so much more than I could bear
         —Sarah McLachlan, "Fallen"

And I keep hearing from the cellar bin
The rumbling sound
Of load on load of apples coming in.
For I have had too much
Of apple-picking: I am overtired
Of the great harvest I myself desired.
         —Robert Frost, "After Apple Picking"

Why is it that I'm only now discovering U2? I guess I'm getting mellow in my old age and they're finally starting to appeal to me.

It is rare these days that I find modern pop musicians that seem to me to have at least a shred of talent. But, once in a while a singer comes along with something which is actually musical, not simply lyrics sung on a single note over top of techno-fake drum beats. Today I have purchased music performed by one such musician: Alison Sudol. She calls her band A Fine Frenzy, but she is the only member. This seems odd to me, but the music is good enough that I really don't care. Any road, the record is called One Cell in the Sea. I heard the song "Almost Lover" last night while my wife watched Army Wives, could actually recognize the lyrics (another amazing feat for a modern musician), and remembered enough of them to find the album today. (I suppose Lifetime is good for something after all.) I haven't had time to dig into the rest of the record in the same way I have "Almost Lover," but so far so good.

After writing my last post, I wonder whether the style of our church music is as important as its content, and I am beginning to think it is. I am not terribly concerned with what kind of music we listen to at home or in our cars, but instead I am concerned with what we sing when we are in church. I am not entirely sure we completely grasp the gravity of what we are doing when we assemble on Sunday mornings, especially those of us in the evangelical world. We enter into the presence of God the Father almighty, the creator of the universe, of all that is, seen and unseen. We enter into the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ, God in human flesh, who suffered, died and was buried, and rose again on the third day. We enter into the presence of the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life. We do not come together in the presence of the Holy Trinity to socialize, to how learn to get along with other people, or to "get blessed." Rather, through our prayers, actions, and gestures we give glory, honor, and thanks to the one who created all things, not because we expect to get something in return, but because God simply deserves everything we have. Like the beasts and elders in Revelation 4:9–11, we should approach God with humility and reverence in everything we do, including our singing.

Whether intentionally or not, the style of our music reflects our level of humility in approaching God, and the simpler the music, the more humble it sounds. The Gregorian Chant sung by monks is possibly the simplest music ever written. It consists of a single melody line with all voices singing in unison. It is quiet and humble and contrasts starkly with what we find in many "progressive" evangelical mega-churches (or those churches who want to be mega-churches). The drums, spotlights, and gigantic sound systems are most ostentatious and can very easily redirect our focus from God to the concert on stage.

Furthermore, the music in progressive evangelical worship is taken entirely out of context. In the historical church, music accompanied a liturgical action. A hymn was sung during the procession of the priest to the chancel. "Alleluia" was sung to announce the reading of the Gospel. During the preparation of the bread and wine for Communion, the "Agnus Dei" ("Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, have mercy on us") was sung. Music is still used in context by the Orthodox, Catholics, and even in many Protestant churches. Historically, the worship service was divided into two sections: the liturgy of the Word during which the scriptures were read and the sermon preached, and the liturgy of the Eucharist in which Holy Communion was celebrated (see St. Justin Martyr's description of second-century worship), with music used throughout. Progressive evangelical worship has divided worship into the liturgy of the music and the liturgy of the preaching. Sing for half an hour, listen to someone talk for another half hour. My, how things have changed. Perhaps it is the context of the music which concerns me more than the style. I'll have to get back to you....

Music certainly has its place in Christian worship, and has since the very beginning of the church. Paul speaks of psalms or hymns (depending on the translation) used in worship in 1 Corinthians 14:26. Throughout Revelation, John describes songs being sung to God. Music has its place and is appropriate. But, like all our other actions in worship, it should be done quietly, reverently, humbly, and in a proper order as St. Paul exhorts us (1 Cor. 14:40).

Lately I have been reading the Confessions of St. Augustine. Before you ask: No, Confessions is not a sultry romance novel set on the east coast of Florida. Augustine was the bishop of Hippo, a town near the ancient city of Carthage which is in modern-day Tunisia. Augustine wrote his Confessions around the year 400 A.D. It is an autobiography of sorts, addressed directly to God, in which he chronicles his journey to conversion and baptism in the catholic Church (yes, that is a lowercase c—at the time, there were no divisions in the Church labeled Catholic, Orthodox, or Protestant with capital letters, but to discuss that would take several posts). Augustine's flowery language and long philosophical arguments do not make the Confessions light reading. However, he sheds some light on what the early Church believed and the problems they faced. One point of interest to me is Augustine's take on music.

In the second half of book (read chapter) ten, Augustine wonders whether it is sinful to enjoy music for the sake of enjoying music, especially the sacred music sung in church. He approved of "the use of singing in the church, so that by the delights of the ear the weaker minds [those still new in the faith] may be stimulated to a devotional mood." The problem lies in when the music is prized more than the devotion it is supposed to instill. He writes that "when it happens that I am more moved by the singing than by what is sung I confess myself to have sinned wickedly, and then I would rather not have heard the singing." He sometimes wished that "all the melodies of the pleasant songs to which David's psalter [that is, the Psalms] is adapted should be banished both from my ears and from those of the church itself" (Confessions, 10.33.50). It is somehow comforting to know that the Church faced the same problems in the fourth century that she faces now.

I spent my teenage years in a church where the music was as controversial as it was for Augustine. However, the controversy was not whether music should be sung but rather the style of music that should be sung. One old man would leave the sanctuary (I use "sanctuary" here in the Protestant sense, for Catholics and Orthodox this would be the "nave") if a song with the slightest modern feel were sung. I wonder if he was aware that the old hymns that he enjoyed were set to music that was contemporary to the time in which they were written. Yes, Fanny Crosby and Charles Wesley would have heard their hymns sung to music that sounded like what would have played on Top 40 radio if Top 40 radio had existed in their day. Even Gregorian Chant, the foundation of all western music, was contemporary music in the ninth century.

My problem with the music cropping up in churches these days is not with the style in which they are sung, but the words that are actually being sung. The content of Crosby's and Wesley's hymns and Gregorian Chant had substance, was heartfelt, and was scriptural. "Pass me not, O gentle Savior, hear my humble cry" (Crosby). "O, for a thousand tongues to sing my great Redeemer's praise!" (Wesley). "For us a child is born, to us a Son is given" ("Puer natus est nobis," chant. Intro. to third Mass at Christmas). It seems like the most common line in modern worship music is "I will worship you" which is then repeated over and over ad nauseum. I have often found myself with the desire to violently shake the worship leader and say, "Well, go ahead! Start worshiping already!" but a sense of decorum and a desire to practice Christian charity restrains me. Like Augustine, I think pleasing music should instill in us a "devotional mood." I think he would likewise agree with me that what is sung should be chosen with thoughtfulness as to its content, and not simply because we enjoy it or because it is the popular thing to sing.