“Icon in music” [bad music is not worshipful]

[Please read the comment following, to get the context of this posting, before starting into this article. --sionnsar]

The Catholic church has been fighting a running battle with narcissism in worship ever since apostolic times. There has never been a shortage of people who want to take over public worship for their own purposes. In this battle–really a tug-of-war–two powerful forces struggle for supremacy. On the one side there is “me”: the personal dimension of religion. The faith of Christianity must involve the personal, private relationship of the individual ("me") to the personal Jesus, who will always listen to every prayer. On the other side of this tug-of-war is the job of faith. Christians come together to worship as a community. The Mass is a public, communal effort, in which individuals act and pray as a group. Tension between the private and public sectors is inevitable.

We can see this tension in two thousand years of Christian art for a liturgical setting. The painters of the Byzantine icon, for example, were ready to burst with emotional religious fervor and yet at every stage of artistic creation they pulled this zeal back; they held the reins tightly, as it were. They would not permit themselves the luxury of painting their own version of what they felt. Instead, they submitted to a canon of taste that belonged to something larger than themselves: the highest expectations of the community, the culture, or, if you wish, the tribe. The painters of the icon put their private, inner faith into the painted image but they did so according to strict conventions and traditional formulas; in this way they communicated to the beholder the message that the image went beyond the mere feelings of the artist and beyond the commonplace.

The church insisted on obedience to a great Unwritten Law which went something like this: “As a creative artist you may follow your own instincts but your art or music for the church must not clash with the liturgical function; it must take its place in the objective liturgical setting and not seem like an intrusion. Your creation must display a degree of quality and craftsmanship which will be agreeable to prince and peasant, male and female, young and old. Everyone who sees the artwork or hears the music must sense a group endeavor, a group prayer: maybe something performed by the assembly or by a choir acting in the name of the assembly, maybe a painting that seems to sum up the highest religious aspirations of a whole people. In the past the icon painters prayed and fasted as they struggled to put the holy images into the exacting forms prescribed by tradition. You must try to do something similar.”

The composers of … reformed folk music have created a large repertory of songs with mild harmonies, comforting words, and a sort of “easy listening” sound; it is all so very undisturbed and appealing, the musical equivalent of the warm bubblebath. The whole enterprise has been resoundingly successful and some publications sell in the millions…. For the time being, the reformed-folk repertory (also known as “contemporary” church music) occupies the high ground; it has the advantage of appearing to possess a musical and a moral superiority. It enjoys the reputation for being “new” and “what the people want.”

The victory of the folk style, reformed or otherwise, is so great and so blinding that many people cannot see beyond the apparent success to what could mildly be called the problem with this music: simply put, nearly all of it–no matter how sincere, no matter how many scriptural texts it contains–oozes with an indecent narcissism. The folk style, as it has developed since the 1960s, is Ego Renewal put to music.

“I” and “me” songs or sung versions of intense personal “conversations” with God can be found in the psalms and in almost two millennia of Christian worship, but great care was taken to make sure that the music would not sound like a presentation of individual “I-me” emotions. The words of the psalm might say “I” and “me,” but the music, intended for public worship, said “we.” A good example of this can be seen in the various settings of Psalm 90/91, a song of comfort and a reminder of God’s abiding protection. In the Middle Ages, the words of this psalm were lifted out of the common place and uttered in the Latin language (Qui habitat in adjutorio Altissimi …); the sentiments in the text were then twisted in the unusually shaped melodies of chant, the musical equivalent of the icon. These two “artificial” steps (the Latin language and the odd melodies) reminded everyone that this particular text, as sun, was not the personal property of the singer but an integral part of a public act of worship.

The early Protestant reformers translated the same psalm into the vernacular so that the congregation could sing it, but they too kept this important element of distance and “artificiality”; that is, they preserved the ideal of the “icon in music.” The words of the psalm were jammed into the pattern of a strict poetic meter with rhyme. ("O God, our help in ages past,/Our hope for years to come …") Melodies were foursquare and totally without a sense of private intimacy. Sometimes the melodies were so “neutral” and generic that a tune could be used for any kind of psalm: one with a joyous text or one with more mournful words.

Now, with the above versions of Psalm 90/91 in mind, analyze the same text as found in the song On Eagle’s Wings by Michael Joncas. Note the enormous difference. The Joncas work, an example of the reformed-folk style at its most gushing, does not proclaim the psalm publicly; it embraces the text–lovingly, warmly, and even romantically. That moaning and self-caressing quality of the music, so common in the reformed-folk style, indicates that the real topic of the words is not the comforting Lord but “me” and the comforts of my personal faith.

One composer of “contemporary” church music described perfectly what is going on in this type of music. He said that in his own compositions he tried to bring out the “felt meanings” of the sung words. There is indeed something quite tactile about the way this music manipulates the words; the meaning of the text has to be molded, shaped–felt. As a result, the performance of reformed-folk music depends heavily on a dramatic realism, on the ability of soloists to communicate personal feelings, felt meanings, to a congregation.

The music of the St. Louis Jesuits, the Dameans, the Weston Monks, Michael Joncas, and all the others is, without any doubt, a revolutionary addition to the Roman Rite. These composers have, as it were, smashed the icon, an exceedingly revolutionary act.

Er! What's that you say sonny! :o)

Perhaps I’m a bit nostalgic but I remember the Christian concerts of the 70s such as Phil Keaggy. They were generally small, the artists would take time out to share their perspective and love of God, there might be ushers in the crowd to answer questions for nonbelievers who you were encouraged to bring along and the music generally reflected the person’s testimony. We recently attended an Avalon concert last spring which was reminiscent of the early concerts I’ve attended. While the music during their concert was loud it was not unreasonably so, they presented a solid testimony and it was a good experience.

Another concert we attended (the one with the ear plugs) was not that way at all. It was a “glitzy”, ecumenical show with little (almost no) mention of our Lord Jesus-just "God". You literally could not hear the lyrics of the songs and one of the artist boast of “getting loud”. I took my younger son with the hopes that he would hear solid, talented men talking about their love for our Lord Jesus. All we really got was noise.

I’m not labeling all Christian artists as bad nor am I going to judge them. But I don’t believe singing a chorus 25 times over and over again is edifying to your Christian walk. And if you can’t understand what is being said and there is no testimony, what’s the point? It really becomes an entertainment value-not a Christian experience. And that's what music in many of our churches has become-entertainment, not worship.

Thank you very much for this article. I'm sure I would not have seen it if not for FR.

I believe it is a good thing that people can worship within their comfort zone. Whether it's in a beautiful traditional church with an awesome pipe organ and choir, or in the secret and small confines of a house in Shanghai with nothing but your own voice and maybe a guitar, we need to give our praise to God. Only God can judge the way in which we worship, and if we're doing it from the bottom of our heart and from our soul, He will love it.

Think of this example. If your son or daughter sings for you, praising your name, whether accompanied by an organ and choir, or by electric guitars and drums, do you not feel loved and appreciated? And does it matter to you how proud they are that you are their father or mother? I would venture to say the prouder, the better.

Does that mean that a worship team is proud of itself? To the contrary. A worship team is doing the work of the Lord, giving the congregation a means through which they can give their thanks and praise to God.

This article does not discuss how worship teams convene at conferences like "Urbana" to remind themselves of their duty to Christ. The primary issue that worship teams must be aware of is the human ego and how it can obstruct the congregation and itself from truly worshipping God.

The bottom line is, if the style of the music (endless guitar solos, etc.) or the loudness of the music (worship shouldn't make you deaf) or really flashy clothing distract from the overall purpose of worshipping God and putting Him first, then the worship team may not be doing God's work to the best of its ability.

I never dreamed that I would be part of a worship team. I get stage fright in the worst way: I shake and my face turns red involuntarily! I was content to take from the service and be on my merry way.

But then someone found out that I knew how to mix sound on a PA system. Someone asked me if I would try helping with the sound system. I enjoyed helping.

After a year or so, someone heard my singing and asked me if I might try backup singing. I wrestled with the idea for a long time - for I had been given an extensive musical education by my parents, which I had rejected years ago to pursue my career. Besides, why embarrass myself up there anyway?

My wife dared me to do it, promising that she would join too so that I wouldn't be alone (what a lady!). So here I am, another year later, playing accordion and acoustic guitar (electric if I could!) in addition to singing. The friends we have made in the process have been priceless. And most of all, we enjoy the extra time we take practising every other week.

The important thing is, God gives us gifts to use for His purpose. He gives others financial abilities, political abiities, scientific or athletic abilities. He gave me musical ability. He has called me, through various people, to use it or lose it.

The church that I attend has a mostly Chinese congregation. They've been around for almost a hundred years. There are two services. One is in a sanctuary and is a traditional service with hymns and creeds, spoken mostly in Cantonese. The other is in English in a gymnasium with a worship team, modern songs on an overhead projector (we mix in some hymns as well) and an American pastor who is a gifted orator. I enjoy both kinds of services, especially our joint services when we celebrate special occasions.

But you can guess which service I prefer. I like the fact that numerous university-age young adults attend the English service with modern music.

I wouldn't go as far as saying that this service is "casual", because we follow an order, have communion and take it as seriously as anyone else. But if you speak the language of young people, including the musical language, then can they not better understand the message that God wants them to hear?

There is a question about whether the lyrics of modern Christian songs would be pleasing to God, or whether they are simply self-serving. I'll end this post with a few examples that we sing regularly that you may not have heard:

Heart of Worship
by Matt Redman

When the music fades and all is stripped away
And I simply come
Longing just to bring something that's of worth
That will bless Your heart

I'll bring You more than a song
For a song in itself
Is not what You have required
You search much deeper within
Through the way things appear
You're looking into my heart

I'm coming back to the heart of worship
And it's all about You
All about You, Jesus
I'm sorry, Lord, for the things I've made it
When it's all about You
All about You, Jesus

King of endless worth, no one could express
How much You deserve
Though I'm weak and poor, all I have is Yours
Every single breath
---

Here I Am To Worship
by Tim Hughes

Light of the world
You stepped down into darkness
Opened my eyes, Let me see
Beauty that made this heart adore you
Hope of a life spent with you

Here I am to worship
Here I am to bow down
Here I am to say that you're my God
You're altogether lovely
Altogether worthy
Altogether wonderful to me

King of all days
So highly exalted
Glorious in heaven above
Humbly you came to the earth you created
All for love's sake became poor

Here I am to worship
Here I am to bow down
Here I am to say that you're my God
You're altogether lovely
Altogether worthy
Altogether wonderful to me

I'll never know how much it cost
To see my sin upon that cross

What you say about a "comfort zone" is absolutely true. A lot of our opinions about music in church are shaped by our training and our particular church, as well as just what we're just used to. (I have a couple of Church of Christ friends - the old C of C, not the UCC - that don't allow any instruments in worship, just the human voice. Don't know how common that is outside the South.)

With the caveat that too much noise and commotion detracts from the Eucharist (as I noted in the message above).

I do think however that there are some absolute standards in music (as there are in just about anything.) Music that is poorly written, poorly composed, or poorly performed is not our best effort to give to God.

To respond to your analogy, of course I would love my child's song of praise no matter what instrument it was performed on or how well (hey, I listened to some pretty dreadful stuff while my daughter was learning to play the violin!) And I'm sure that God loves and appreciates our praise although the best music on earth cannot compare to the perfect music of the heavenly choirs.

But although I love my children, I would be disappointed if they did not put forth their best effort but just went through the motions.

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