Diversity in the Emerging Church
I suppose it should come as no surprise that there's diversity in the emerging church. That term "emerging" has been thrown around a lot, but more and more I understand it in cultural terms. We are moving from modern culture to post-modern culture. Perhaps the best symbol of this is the way we learn and communicate. The printing press revolutionized learning and commmunicating in its day, and its effect is pervasive: many Christians consider personal bible reading a hallmark of Christian discipleship (as do I), when this wasn't even possible for the first millenium and a half of Christianity. We are entering the full-blown information age, one that began with mass communications, but has really hit its full stride with the Internet. So the "emerging church" for me just means the church that is coming into being with the emerging post-modern culture.
It should come as no surprise that emerging congregations aren't any more homogeneous than the church in ages past. Some draw heavily on liturgy and ritual, some find their identity in challenging the doctrinal status quo, some celebrate the arts, some, like the church I've started attending on Sunday mornings, feature mainly music and preaching in a casual atmosphere.
Hey, there are even emerging fundamentalists--that's what I've come to believe about Mark Driscoll of Mars Hill Church in Seattle. Unbeknownst to me until recently,
apparently Driscoll called Rob Bell a heretic. Besides it being laughable, it is part of
a growing trend from the Seattle pastor, in which he calls into question the fidelity to orthodoxy of other (emerging) church leaders (e.g., Karen Ward, Brian McLaren). While others become apostates, he holds the doctrinal line, so he purports. Some time ago,
My younger brother's blog opened a discussion about what fundamentalism is; is it just conservative theology, a literalistic approach to biblical interpretation, a detachment from culture? I came to believe that a defining characteristic of fundamentalists is the way they fail to engage others in theological conversation, because they don't accept that their understanding of the bible is an interpretation, just as everyone else's is. Everything I have read of Driscoll's suggests that he believes that people who disagree with him must just not take scripture seriously, because if they did, they would agree with him.
Some people may question whether Driscoll is really an "emergent" voice, but I believe he is, in that he comes out of, and speaks to the emerging post-modern culture. I heard him speak one time in college (at
Seattle Pacific University), and my recollection is that he did very much understand the crisis of identity that many post-moderns face because of relativism. I didn't find his exploration of the text (from Ecclesiastes) very sophisticated or nuanced, essentially a restatement.
This isn't a sentiment I'm proud of: I would feel really good if Driscoll's church failed. I know, it's terrible, but the vindication would feel very satisfying. Someone who preaches the inferiority of women, who mocks and insults those with whom he disagrees, even those who honestly seek dialog--I don't want that person to be fruitful, and so claim that God is with them. I want churches who preach the dignity of all, who show empathy and respect for everyone, who recognize their own limitations and welcome the intellectual refinement of honest dialog--I want those churches to succeed, because I believe deeply that they truly bear witness to God as we understand Him through Jesus.
Somehow, in the mystery of God's working through his church, he continues to call people through churches of all flavors. Somehow, people come to know Jesus at Mark Driscoll's church. I don't get it, probably anymore than Mark Driscoll gets how someone could believe in the bible and believe women can be leaders in church. For whatever reason, God sees fit to work through a diverse collection of congregations. I don't really understand, but that's okay. I have to accept whatever way God wants to save the world, even if it includes emergent fundamentalists.
If not Seeker-Sensitive, what then?
I recently finished Blue Like Jazz, a terrific book by Donald Miller. Partly it was terrific because Miller can actually write (see below), but also because had a number of really profound insights. Really great books don't just reveal their own insights; they inspire new perspectives. Blue Like Jazz ignited me: ideas that were just smoldering embers--just the suggestion of illumination--have caught fire.
One of these epiphanies is about the Seeker-Sensitive movement in American evangelical Christianity. When I first heard about Willow Creek, the pioneering seeker-sensitive church, I was excited. Here was a church that realized most unchurched people were tired of "churchy" stuffiness and bewildered by the Church-speak and idiosyncratic culture so prevalent in so many American congregations. Willow Creek's Sunday morning services were designed for people who had not (yet) professed Christian faith. Their "Believer's Service" was on Wednesday night. People who scorned the seeker-sensitive model as "selling Jesus," were, I thought, simply denying the problem that churches were only drawing people who already understood and liked church. How could anyone be content with the status quo?
Recently, however, whole seeker-sensitive model has been unattractive to me. Seeker-sensitive approaches bother me. Why?
I think it because the seeker-sensitive model is attractional. The goal is to get people to come to church, and the Sunday gathering is designed to get people to want to come, to bring their friends. Since the goal is to attract people and to keep them coming back, churches try their hardest to put on a good show. Music and drama have to be really good: culturally relevant, witty, poignant. They don't want visitors to think they're out of touch with the real world; the church has to keep a credible voice. This was the allure of the seeker-sensitive movement for me: finally, we are acknowledging how embarrassing it is to take your friend to church and have the whole thing be so hokey, so amateur.
One reason I'm moving away from embracing the seeker-sensitive approach is that it's kind of a bait-and-switch. We try to get people into church with a flashy show, but hope they'll stay for the deep spiritual growth. Besides, we're not really all that put together. We're broken human beings, prone to arrogance, half-hearted attempts, embarrassing mistakes--we are hokey and amateur, and the good news is that God loves us anyway. Or, put another way, church should be "for people who are tired of trying to be cool, tired of trying to get the world to redeem them." (Hey, look, that guy again!)
But the primary reason I've changed my mind is that the attractional model, at its core, expects people to come to us. Our efforts in "reaching the world for Christ" are consumed by trying to get them to come to our place, our turf. In a recent article in Christianity Today, Tim Stafford contrasts the attractional model with the missional model (as does David Fitch). The missional model (as I understand it) is one that sees the meeting of Christians as the time to celebrate the work that God is doing in the world, a re-invitation to participate in that. Our meeting is all about coming to God again, receiving his blessing through community, that we may better the world with Him. The missional model means "reaching the world for Christ" happens out in the world.
One of the things Miller talks about in Blue Like Jazz is love, and how too often we use love like a commodity. We reward people with love, or use love as an incentive. I fear this is what is behind the seeker-sensitive model. "If you will only come inside, we will love you like family." But the missional model says that love is intrinsically good to give, so go give it away. Love can't be a commodity if it comes from God, because commodities have limited supply. But God's Love is infinite, and we can never run out of it. Why not love everybody you meet, love them deeply, love them recklessly? Because infinity minus anything is still infinity. Indeed, God's love is the only thing that is infinite; knowledge, prophecies, awe-inspiring displays of power and creativity? They will pass away.
I think we don't trust the transformative power of Love. "It would be great if it were that simple," we say, "if all we had to do was just love everybody, but how can we be confident anyone will get saved?" So we try to construct good arguments, design cool worship experiences, put on spectacular and aesthetically sensitive productions, because we fundamentally believe that Love isn't enough. When we are missional, the reason we gather together is to learn again how to Love, to be renewed and transformed into Lovers of the world, the same way Jesus Loved the world, while we were yet sinners.
I've been using the word "We" because while I get excited about these epiphanies, I know I am so far from living them out. I withhold love in order to control. I try to design cool worship gatherings to make people want to come to church. This is why I need a worshipping community in which to confess, pray, ask questions, be challenged, and receive God's blessing.
What happened to writing?
I admit, I've been doing a lot of reading in a very narrow subset of a niche market: Books about designing/directing Christian Worship. Be that as it may, I wonder why so many people who write about worship can't seem to write. (An aside: I won't get into any detailed criticism here, but Rick Warren's Purpose Driven Life book is another example of terrible writing in Christian Lit.)
I just recently finished Emerging Worship by Dan Kimball. There are two forewords, by David Crowder and Sally Morgenthaler. Both forewords are better written. I've never met Dan Kimball, or been to his church (Vintage Faith), so he may be a dynamic speaker, an effective and creative leader, a person of great spiritual depth. But he can't write, and apparently Zondervan couldn't be bothered by assigning him a good editor.
Kimball's problems start with a poor vocabulary. A good vocabulary results in an economy of words and a precision in meaning; a poor one yields vague, shallow wordiness. People that lack a good vocabulary start reusing some words and misusing others in an attempt to avoid the words they have been reusing. They attempt to sound sophisticated, but in so doing expose their weak writing all the more. When I graded papers of undergrads, I saw this sort of writing all the time.
For example, he writes on page 172: "Historically, church ministry functions in a certain way and there was a specific approach to looking at the church leadership structure. But Graceland [an alternative/emerging worship gathering] started going against the norms of consistency and church uniformity!" Lots of words, little clarity--I really have no idea what he is saying except that Graceland operated in a different way than the main church.
Or another passage, this time on the following page: "Instead of our discussions being exciting ones about mission and innovation, they turned into discussion about squeezing Graceland into how the rest of the church functioned....So, once again we began having discussions." Again, clumsy and vague
So what if I were writing it? Here's my armchair editorial suggestion: "Where our discussions used to focus outwardly on mission and innovation, they now focused inwardly on on conforming Graceland to the rest of the church....So we went back to the drawing board."
But the book suffers from a larger problem: Kimball is trying to represent a movement that resists generalizations. Emergents--and Dan Kimball is one--champion the unique identity of each worshipping community and reject formulas for designing worship. (See his most recent post from Out of Ur . "It depends on..." is his mantra.) He avoids making specific recommendations because he believes each worship gathering should be unique, but the consequence is that his writing lacks focus and purpose.
Another book I read recently, Designing Worship Teams by Cathy Townley, suffers from this same problem. Because she asserts that each body of believers has its own way of operating (it's unique DNA, in her terminology), she takes pains to avoid specific recommendations, for fear that she will be guilty of fostering the very kinds of formulaic worship gatherings she decries. (See my review on Amazon for more thoughts on that book.)
Both Kimball and Townley would do better to tell their specific stories, explaining what they have done and why. This would allow them to write with clarity and depth, since they know their own stories well. In fact, the best part of Kimball's book is when he profiles several Emerging Worship gatherings, giving specifics about what each gathering is like, and some background from leaders of those gatherings on why they approach worship the way they do. Kimball still isn't a great describer because of his poor vocabulary, but at least he isn't obfuscating. Townley makes no real mention of any specific situation she has been involved in, and that omission left me curious and a little frustrated.
Telling ones story in this way leaves it up to the reader to determine what elements of their ministries will transfer well, and does open the door to some futile attempts to copy their approach. That could be easily warned against in an introduction or opening chapter, and those who disregards such an instruction will learn soon enough their mistake. The rest of us would actually have a good, helpful book.
Moving on
It's official now: I am no longer the music director at Crossroads United Methodist in Belton. The decision to step down was made over a period of months, and actually I knew my days were numbered there long before I figured out what exactly were the reasons, and when exactly I would resign. There were mixed emotions in thinking about the decision, but I'm very happy to be moving on now.
I wanted to write a little about the process of deciding to leave, mostly because I wasn't able to find a whole lot of resources for "When, Why, and How to leave your ministry position." Those that I found were often directed towards established career senior ministers.
The trouble for me was sorting out whether I was just weary from the logistics, or perhaps just needed a little separation from the week-to-week grind of it in order to reflect and find new energy and purpose; or, was I really reaching the end of my tenure there? Was this a natural feeling of stagnation after two years working at one place, one that would pass if I kept at it? Or was this feeling an indication that it was time to move on? (Obviously, I came to the conclusion that it was the latter.)
It would have been an easy decision if I hated everything about the job, and nobody at the church liked what I did either. (That situation is, I think, thankfully rare in churches.) On the contrary, I did like the work, and I have a growing sense of calling to ministry because of my service at Crossroads. This is due in part to the encouragement that I received from key members at the church. Yet I had a growing feeling of frustration that while many people encouraged my efforts, participation and passion in worship were still woefully sporadic.
I had lost the belief that what I was doing would make a have a lasting effect toward changing the church, and by extension, the community and the world. When I began working at Crossroads, I did not know the congregation's character. As I learned it, I tailored my efforts to try to address its particular strengths and weaknesses: trying to harness the creativity and passion that did exist, and challenging them to a greater surrender to God's purpose and a greater sense of mission. In considering resigning, I had come to believe that these efforts were not really making enough of a difference to see.
More than that, I had lost the energy to rebound from disappointing results to give a true effort the next time. It would be one thing to simply fail to see the fruit of my labor. That, perhaps, is an issue of faith--that I must simply trust God that perseverance and faithful service will bear fruit, even if I cannot see it. But at some point, I have to acknowledge that even if disillusionment is my own lack of faith, it still affects my work. A church is best served by someone with passion and joy, not just determination and perseverance. I didn't think I could muster even the latter traits for much longer.
To be sure, there were tantalizing personal benefits, such as more time for other creative efforts, including a post-modern minded evening service at another church I had begun work on. But I didn't want these to be the main reasons; I wanted to leave because I felt my work was done there. Practically, leaving during the summer makes sense for the church, giving them time to get a new music director in place in time to prepare for the Advent season.
To summarize, my decision to leave came from:
1) A growing sense that, despite any and every approach to leading worship, my efforts were having little lasting effect
2) A weakening energy to face the challenge of overcoming entrenched and recurring barriers to spiritual growth and impact in the church
3) The presence of other endeavors that excited and stimulated me
One final note: I recently spoke with someone more experienced in this field, who said that the average tenure for a church music director is two years. If my experience is any indication, the reason for that may be that many churches have made music the primary marker of their identity. Even at Crossroads, many people felt that music is what would impact lives, draw in visitors, set the tone for spiritual growth. I believe quite the opposite is true. In the healthiest, most vibrant churches that I have attended, music is not the engine, but the caboose: the expression of the community of faith, of changed lives, of their mission to bless the world. We can't sing passionately about music itself for very long; but if I have a passion for God, as my favorite hymn says, "How can I keep from singing?"
Reflections on the past year
Yes, it has been that long. So what have I learned?
- I am more convinced than ever that Christian leadership must be, following the example of Christ, the way of brokenness. I'm thinking about this now because I recently read Henri Nouwen's In the Name of Jesus. If I try to be impressive, to be relevant and useful and successful, I am not following the path of Christ. The path of Jesus leads to the cross. I am working hard to show my churches (I'll get to that) that I am not specially skilled or remarkably talented, but just me: broken and beautiful, an incomplete child of God
- Trusting the Spirit of God to work is hard. I want to engineer things--I can't stand it when what we do in church is mediocre, un-purposeful, and half-hearted. Yet there have been moments when I believe the Spirit of Christ has truly worked that I thought were hopelessly lost causes. In some ways, it is frustrating; I want to think I know what makes a good church service, what will work. But sometimes the best laid plans don't work out, and sometimes the most poorly planned things work splendidly. This is teaching me humility: God will work as he chooses, in unexpected places.
- Churches are living organisms, not machines. If a church is struggling, people often want to "fix" it. But living organisms don't get fixed; they heal. If a plant gets sick, you can't fix it--you can enrich and fertilize the soil, shelter it from the elements, keep it watered, give it sun, and wait for growth to occur--but that sometimes takes years!
Service texts--Theme: Remaining in Christ (John 15)
Great and marvelous are your deeds, Lord God Almighty.
Just and true are your ways, King of the ages.
Who will not fear you, O Lord, and bring glory to your name?
For you alone are holy. All nations will come and worship before you,
for your righteous acts have been revealed. (Revelation 3:15)
Your name is holy
What A friend we have in Jesus
Without Christ, we get mired in that old stagnant life of sin. But God’s gift is this: he takes our sin-dead lives and makes us alive in Christ. When we make our home in Christ, God works in us and through us, recreating us into the people he created us to be, doing the work he created us for. (Ephesians 2, The Message--sort of)
He who began a good work in you
Oh, how great is Your goodness, which You have laid up for those who fear,
revere, and worship You, goodness for those who trust and take refuge in You!
In the secret place of Your presence You hide them from harmful plots; You
shelter them from strife in Your pavilion. Blessed be the Lord! (Psalm 31)
You are my Hiding Place
O Blessed Spring
Guide me O Thou great Jehovah
Service texts--Theme: Love overcomes evil
Scripture: 1 John 4: 7-21
A note about this week's topic: The scripture for this week talks about the source of love, and how it cast out fear; the title of the sermon is "How can we make our House a Home?" (The answer found in this text is, of course, love--that is, the perfect love of God found in Christ.) Henri Nouwen's book
Lifesigns: Intimacy, Fecundity, and Ecstacy brilliantly and deeply examines the difference between "the house of fear" and "the house of love." It's a book the profoundly affects me each time I read it, and I really ought to read it once a year just to hear, through Nouwen's words, God say again "fear not." Seriously, if you haven't read it, go get it. It is short, readable, pithy and inspiring.
Service Texts:
The Psalmist cries: Whom have I in heaven, but You? And earth has nothing I desire besides you. Though my heart and my body fail, God is the strength of my heart. Brothers and Sisters, we gather in Christ name to find strength in God; as he gave the Israelites their sustenance in the dessert, so we ask him to send his Holy Manna to strengthen and nurture us today. (Psalm 73)
Christians we have met to Worship
I lift my eyes up
Jesus, God’s Son, is the radiance of God's glory and the exact representation of his being; He holds everything together by what he says--powerful words! This is the same Jesus we can trust as our Savior, the Jesus who says “surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”
(Hebrews 1 and Matthew 28)
'Tis so Sweet to Trust in Jesus
Pass me not, O Gentle Savior
The River (Brian Doerksen)
Closing: He came down/We are Marching
Service text--First Sunday in Lent (Theme - The deadly sin of pride)
A Voice calls in the Desert:
“Prepare the way for the Lord, make straight paths for Him.”This is the first
Sunday of Lent, the season when we examine ourselves, letting the light of
Christ illuminate every corner of our lives. As Christ was called out into
the desert to prepare himself, to be tested, so we begin our own desert journey,
into a land where we cast off the things that hinder us so that we may hold on
to what matters most. Called to this journey together, we reflect,
repent, and commit ourselves once more to the mercy and love of God.
Sunday's Palms are Wednesday's Ashes
Our journey into the desert reminds us that we are not without
hope. Our only hope is in the Oasis of God’s love, offered through
Christ. We come as those sick to the Healer, as those thirsty to the
Fountain of Life, as souls in need and desolation to the King of Heaven, to the
gentle Comforter.
All who are thirsty
Come, ye Sinners
Pass me not, O Gentle Savior
During Lent, we find again our true hope—one found not in ourselves, but in
the steadfast love of God. For the one who hears the words of Christ and
puts them into practice builds a sure foundation.
Rock of Ages, Cleft for Me
"Upbeat" Worship
Woe to the person who suggests to me that the music be more "upbeat." What they think is an innocuous remark or mild suggestion is going to get them an earful, or at least an extended discussion.
"Upbeat." Could there be a more amorphous, ambiguous, malleable term? What to one person is "upbeat" is "hokey" to another, "boring" to yet another "blasphemous" to still another. The way we react to music is intensely personal and thoroughly abstract, which makes it very difficult to give meaningful and specific descriptions.
Anyone who asks for music that is more "upbeat" is going to get this explanation, followed by a question: "What would make the music more upbeat?" Are they asking for a change in the style of accompaniment, the selection of songs, the instrumentation? More often than not, people fumble with their words, ultimately realizing that they don't have the perception or the language to be more specific.
But these questions miss a more fundamental question, which is: Why do we want church music to be uniformly "upbeat?" In response to
a recent post on
Out of Ur,
Taylor Burton-Edwards (about whom I know nothing) describes his a period in his life of intense grief, during which most ministries and programs of his local church were unhelpful and meaningless to him. Moreover, most people weren't equipped to engage and walk beside him in that darkness:
Very few programs form people who can walk alongside a journey like this-- and that is because those programs are simply not designed to do this. Worship that is "happy clappy," always "upbeat" has no hope of doing this.
This is the fundamental reason why "upbeat" music is an inadequate standard, regardless of any agreed-upon parameters of what constitutes "upbeat" music. Music in church needs to give voice to our frailty and brokenness--and if we don't respond to that music, perhaps it is because we fail to grasp the true nature and extent of our weakness.
Service texts--Theme: Waiting on the Lord
(What's all this about then?)
(Lamentations 3)
I remember my affliction and my wandering
I well remember them, and my soul is downcast within me
Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope:
Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning: Great is your faithfulness.
Blessed Be The Name of the Lord
(Psalm 89)
Your love, God, is our song, and we’ll sing it! We’ll forever tell everyone how faithful you are. Your love has always been our lives' foundation, your fidelity has been the roof over our world
My life flows on
He is Exalted
(Psalm 40)
I patiently waited, LORD, for you to hear my prayer. You listened and pulled me from a lonely pit full of mud and mire. You let me stand on a rock with my feet firm, and you gave me a new song, a song of praise to you.
You are my hiding place
I lift my eyes up
Communion: There is a fountain filled with blood
Standing on the Promises of God
Hymnody or Christian Rock?
Music in most American churches today usually come from one of two traditions: Hymnody or Rock and Roll. Many churches refer to these musical styles as "traditional" and "contemporary," but both of these are misnomers. Each is a living musical tradition, that comes from different historical and cultural roots.
Not being an expert in hymnodic history, I'll keep my comments generally about my own perceptions and experience. Typical characteristics of Hymns: strophic (one tune for many verses), designed for four-part choral singing, syllabic text-setting (each syllable gets its own note) with mostly simple rhythms, linguistically and theologically complex and developed (i.e., lots of words, poetically arranged with carefully developed theological messages).
Like many living musical traditions, the Hymn tradition has shown the remarkable ability to incorporate different musical traditions throughout its history: ancient folk tunes ("
Let all things now living"), renaissance dance tunes ("
A Mighty Fortress is our God"), Bar songs ("
We praise the O God"), Gospel music ("
Pass me Not O Gentle Savior"), and even elements of contemporary popular music (such as in "Here I am, Lord" or "Gather us in"). Yet hymns have kept most of their trademark identifiers (listed in the previous paragraphs); these other musical influence have not replaced hymnodic stylings, but have been adapted to fit them. Most importantly, new hymns continue to be written, and the best name for these would be "contemporary hymns." It's what makes hymnody a living tradition.
Rock/Popular music, its roots largely coming from African-American rhythms and blues harmonies, also has its own set of typical music characteristics and stylings. The kind of pop-based music most churches sing typically feature: syncopated rhythms, melodies with extensive use of repetition (an important musical device, and what makes the tunes "catchy"), shorter stanzas that are linguistically closer to today's vernacular speech. These songs are less rigid with metrical consistency--each verse may have a different number of syllables in each phrase, and each phrase has a different number of syllables, too. That is, many hymns can be categorized by a number meter (e.g. 8.7.8.7 D), while many pop-based worship songs cannot (marked "Irregular").
Mark Allan Powell has recently compiled an
Encyclopedia of Contemporary Christian Music and
was interviewed about it by Christianity Today. He makes some important comments about Christian Pop/Rock:
- It is a musical tradition, and deserves as much attention as other kinds of church music.
- The people who write it are sincere, faith-inspired, and incredibly diverse.
- It's purpose is to express and embody Christian piety, in contrast to the hymnodic tradition's usual practice of expressing Christian theology. To quote the article:
Two aspects of faith are theology, which can be explained as matters of the head, and piety, which is matters of the heart. I usually call this the prose and poetry of faith. Theology is the prose, and we need good theology to know what it is we believe and know how to articulate what we believe.
Piety is the poetry of faith. In it, we pay less attention to precision than to honest expression. Contemporary Christian music needs to be theologically sound, but its real strength is in the realm of piety. It touches the heart, it's relational, it's empathetic and it's emotional in a way that is completely appropriate for a holistic understanding of faith. |
What's helpful about understanding these things is that it allows us to appreciate each musical traditions for their respective strengths, removing us from judging church music solely on personal preference. It helps to free us from self-centeredness and toward communal identity, away from isolation and toward community.
Performance or Participation?
I practice music in two very different settings:
my church, where I serve as the music director, and the
UMKC Conservatory of music, from which I will be receiving my Master of Music in Composition (as soon as I finish my thesis). Both these worlds put unique and extremely different demands on me and the music I do.
The purpose of music at the conservatory is aesthetic excellence. The conservatory's aim is to develop musicians with technical and artistic skill--that is, the ability to conceptualize musical works of beauty, power, and depth, and the ability to execute those conceptions. Training, done right, is rigorous and plays no favorites--the best students excel, the worst students fail and drop out. It's a good thing, too: the biggest disservice the Conservatory could do is deceive students by allowing them to believe they are skilled musicians when they in fact are not. Such students need to be redirected to areas in which they will excel.
The purpose of music at church, however, cannot be the same. The reason we do anything at church is fundamentally about community. Why else would believers meet together? It is possible to pray, sing, read scripture--even prepare and consume bread and wine--on our own. But we meet together because God comes to us in community, when we are gathered together. The triune God himself is a communal being, having relationships between each person of the trinity. The purpose of music in church, then, is fundamentally communal.
Consequently, our goal for church music should be participation from everyone, for this is music's most powerful effects: many voices join to become one sound, all occupying the same space together. Where rigorous performance standard asks that only the best sing--for example, we audition for solos, and the best performer wins--our goal of communal worship invites everyone to participate.
Recently, this has been made very personal to me by relationships I have built with some in my church. One member of my choir suffered a stroke a few years ago, and decrease mobility has also been accompanied by decrease vocal strength and control. This person always loved to sing, and they sing in choir now, even though the vocal ability isn't what it used to be. Singing in choir is, for this person, a cathartic excercise, and a gesture of faith that one day their body will be restored. I wouldn't for the world have this person leave my choir, even though they often have trouble matching pitch. I love the way my choir sounds, not because of their musical precision, but because theirs is the sound of the Body of Christ working together.
But if the primary of church music is participation, not excellence, is there any pursuit of aesthetic goals at all? We don't want to do
bad music, do we?
My current thinking is that there is a delicate, even precarious balance. I used to be very embarrased by bad church music. I'm still embarrassed by a lot of Christian pop music. Are cheap knockoffs the best that we can do in praise of Christ? Furthermore, if each member of Christ's Body has different gifts, shouldn't we encourage those with gifts other than music to pursue their true calling, not be misled into futile attempts at endeavors to which they are poorly suited?
Somehow, I have to find the right approach that encourages everyone to participate, but that urges everyone toward better music as well. As with all areas of Christian discipleship, there is always room to grow. The real problem isn't with bad music, it's with apathy. Whatever we do in Christ's name and for Christ's body, we should strive to do it well. But this is a journey together, where we do not leave even one out of a hundred behind.
As a trained musician, aesthetic excellence is a hard idol to let go, but ultimately, I believe, one that I must. An important witness for the church is the witness of weakness: that we do not rely on ourselves, but we confess readily our frailty and our reliance upon God's grace. Therefore, we don't shun brokenness or imperfection--we give thanks that in our weakness, Christ's power and grace is made evident. As with any activity in the church, when we sing, we should do our best in praise of Christ, but what's more important is we all do it together, expressing God's grace through our cooperative efforts, through our communal work.
Theme: Giving Thanks to God - [before song]
Clap your hands, all you nations;
shout to God with cries of joy.
How awesome is the LORD Most High,
the great King over all the earth!
- [in the middle of song]
God has ascended amid shouts of joy,
the LORD amid the sounding of trumpets.
Sing praises to God, sing praises;
sing praises to our King, sing praises
Come, All You People
Blessed Be the Name of the Lord
The Apostle Paul writes:
Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom, and as you sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God.
We gather today to sing our thanks not only to God, but to teach and admonish one another by singing songs and speaking words of peace to each other .
Let All Things Now Living
O Blessed Spring
James tells us to “consider it pure joy whenever you face trials.”
Peter tells us to “rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ.”
And Paul tells us to “give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”
How do we do this? We give thanks because our trials produce perseverance, because our Savior gave thanks even on the night he was betrayed, and because, as Paul writes, “These hard times are small potatoes compared to the coming good times, the lavish celebration prepared for us. There's far more here than meets the eye. The things we see now are here today, gone tomorrow. But the things we can't see now will last forever."
Stay with Us
Worship: Honesty or Decorum?
I stumbled onto two really fascinating blog entries over at Christianity Today:
Expletive Undeleted: Dropping the F-bomb in Churchand
Expletive Undeleted 2: The F-bomb FalloutAs I comment after the second entry, I think this was a tough call for Pastor Mike Sares to make, given his wonderfully unusual church. (I don't think I'd even be faced with this decision in my church.)
I'm most disappointed with those who respond dismissively, as in "The fact that this even up for discussion is mind boggling." I'm not sure why anyone with that mentality would even be reading a blog and offering a comment. I believe Engaging in discussion is
always beneficial. And I believe, if we are Christians following Christ's example, engaging in discussion is part of refusing to give up on others, just as God doggedly pursues us.
What's all this then?
This blog is a collection of resources and thoughts related to my job as Music Director of
a small United Methodist Church in
Belton, MO, which is in the Greater Kansas City Metropolitan area.
Much of what you'll see is the stuff I prepare weekly for worship services--the list of songs, the texts of scriptures, meditations, calls to worship, etc. that are interspersed between songs or within songs between verses. If you're looking for this sort of stuff, feel free to use it if it suits your purposes.
Occasionally, you'll see postings of my own reflections related to music, worship, working in church, my own spiritual or personal journey, or about society in general. You won't see anything related to baseball, because I have
my own blog for that. Increasingly, I've wanted to write about other things that readers of that blog would probably not be interested in. That's what this space is for.
Comments and emails are encouraged--people who know me know that my interest is always in dialog and mutual understanding, even if we ultimately disagree with one another. Strong opinions are great, but isolating oneself because of them is, I believe, a great tragedy.
Finally, a word about the title of this blog; five years ago, I would have told you quite confidently that I was not the sort of person who would ever be a worship leader. I had tried before and it was clearly not how I was gifted. I can't say now that I'm a different person, or that I was being stubborn before, but I've come to realize that when the prophet of Lamentations speaks of God's mercies as "new every morning," that it means, ironically, that the future is open. Somehow, in the midst of our predictable Universe, God keeps throwing us surprises. Count me in as one who's excited (and maybe a little bit scared) about what unknown mercy is around the next corner.
Theme: Giving ourselves, our dreams, and our concerns over to God
Why are you downcast, O my soul?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose.
Therefore I will yet praise him,
my Savior and my God.
(Psalm 46 and Philippians 2:13)
What a friend we have in Jesus
Christ beside me
Jesus says to us: “Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.” Why should we not be afraid? Because he has sent another in his place, the Comforter, the Holy Spirit, who will teach us and light our way. Let us rejoice, let us proclaim this joyful sound: the Comforter has come. (John 14)
The Comforter has Come
You are my hiding place
Oh, how great is Your goodness, which You have laid up for those who fear, revere, and worship You, goodness for those who trust and take refuge in You!
In the secret place of Your presence You hide them from harmful plots; You shelter them from strife in Your pavilion. Blessed be the Lord!
In his presence
Lord Listen to your Children Praying
My life Flows on
