I don't intend, in these thoughts, to assess the theological content of contemporary worship. There's enough ink spilt over that, with very few real progresses made in making good observations.
But, I intend, rather, to say a few things to make pastors and worship leaders reflect on what we're saying with the phrase "contemporary worship".
"Contemporary worship" is first, and perhaps foremost, contemporary. The age of music doesn't determine its quality -- I'm not enough of a snob to know that all worship music has to sound like Bach -- but I think that this criticism (normally leveled at contemporary worship) really misses the point. It isn't about quality. In a world peopled by advertisers and entertainers, "contemporary" is a hurrah word, a marketing tool, branding liturgical music that is fashionable, up-to-date, oozing youthful cool. Contemporary is young, and young is good. The desire to make worship more appealing to young people was a major impulse behind the development of contemporary Christian music in the first place. The magnitude of this shift cannot be overestimated. Culture is a gift from the old to the young, and the younger generation's grateful reception is a sign of honor for fathers. Cultural transmission has been thrown into reverse, also in the Church.
That, it seems to me, is reason enough to give pause over whether congregations need to have contemporary vs. traditional worship services. (For the record, I'm in favor of "blended worship" like that advocated by Robert Webber. He edited a hymnal in that vein that went far too neglected.)
Contemporary worship arose, historically, at just that period in the late 80s when music education collapsed in our public schools. The Church did nothing to fill the gap, and seemed rather content to allow disc jockies and advertisers and Madonna to set the tone for younger generations -- Gen Xers on down. It's no surprise to me that Christian music (particularly contemporary worship music) has taken its cue from pop music. It's no surprise, but it's definitely a pastoral concern. Pop music is a relatively new cultural phenomenon with its own set of commercially driven values -- accessibility, immediacy, instant gratification, freedom, sex. It has its own, extremely limited, range of musical and emotional possibilities. For all its variety, pop music is dismally monophonic (listened to a top 40 station lately?). Transgression is encouraged, so long as it doesn't get too close to the music. Lady Gaga wears her meat dresses and Rihanna feigns sex on stage, but when the music starts they are both as frothy as Justin Bieber. There can be no Beethoven or Stravinsky of pop music.
Experience is always hyped, but we don't want that experience to have too much connection to "training". We'd rather it be spontaneous, and we certainly aren't worried about musical expertise. We trust our experts in medicine and physics in our everyday lives, but the suggestion that there are experts in aesthetics, musicians who know what music one should appreciate, is greeted with hostility, also in the Church. "I know what I like" stops every argument, buttressed by "Musical taste is subjective". (I can't count the number of times this logic is used to determine which service one will attend, while refusing to ask the real questions about whether dividing the Church along musical taste lines is really nothing more than repeating the Corinthian's first sin.) Lebanese organist Naji Hakim has lamented that in the Catholic Church "many in positions of liturgical responsibility, with no musical education as regards technique or aesthetics, have come to believe in a tabula rasa , denying any lineage whatsoever". Professional musicians have been "sidelined" as "the lost common denominator has become the rule". He wonders whether Catholics "realize the level of mediocrity which the present liturgy has reached".
I'm pretty sure they don't.
The Church was able to cultivate liturgical tastes because it had its own musical style. That style flourished in the Middle Ages to such an extent that one could attend worship in Spain or in Egypt and find much of the same chanting. The Protestant Reformation -- for all its good -- also eroded that musical style, and thereby stripped congregations of the educational value in music (there have been some notable exceptions -- like Old Harp Singing -- but those are exceptions and not the rule). That's why I think it's time for the Church to reclaim its own musical style instead of bowing to market forces.
Think is, those market forces are powerful indeed. So until we begin questioning what's really happening with "contemporary worship", there's not a chance this will happen.
But, I intend, rather, to say a few things to make pastors and worship leaders reflect on what we're saying with the phrase "contemporary worship".
"Contemporary worship" is first, and perhaps foremost, contemporary. The age of music doesn't determine its quality -- I'm not enough of a snob to know that all worship music has to sound like Bach -- but I think that this criticism (normally leveled at contemporary worship) really misses the point. It isn't about quality. In a world peopled by advertisers and entertainers, "contemporary" is a hurrah word, a marketing tool, branding liturgical music that is fashionable, up-to-date, oozing youthful cool. Contemporary is young, and young is good. The desire to make worship more appealing to young people was a major impulse behind the development of contemporary Christian music in the first place. The magnitude of this shift cannot be overestimated. Culture is a gift from the old to the young, and the younger generation's grateful reception is a sign of honor for fathers. Cultural transmission has been thrown into reverse, also in the Church.
That, it seems to me, is reason enough to give pause over whether congregations need to have contemporary vs. traditional worship services. (For the record, I'm in favor of "blended worship" like that advocated by Robert Webber. He edited a hymnal in that vein that went far too neglected.)
Contemporary worship arose, historically, at just that period in the late 80s when music education collapsed in our public schools. The Church did nothing to fill the gap, and seemed rather content to allow disc jockies and advertisers and Madonna to set the tone for younger generations -- Gen Xers on down. It's no surprise to me that Christian music (particularly contemporary worship music) has taken its cue from pop music. It's no surprise, but it's definitely a pastoral concern. Pop music is a relatively new cultural phenomenon with its own set of commercially driven values -- accessibility, immediacy, instant gratification, freedom, sex. It has its own, extremely limited, range of musical and emotional possibilities. For all its variety, pop music is dismally monophonic (listened to a top 40 station lately?). Transgression is encouraged, so long as it doesn't get too close to the music. Lady Gaga wears her meat dresses and Rihanna feigns sex on stage, but when the music starts they are both as frothy as Justin Bieber. There can be no Beethoven or Stravinsky of pop music.
Experience is always hyped, but we don't want that experience to have too much connection to "training". We'd rather it be spontaneous, and we certainly aren't worried about musical expertise. We trust our experts in medicine and physics in our everyday lives, but the suggestion that there are experts in aesthetics, musicians who know what music one should appreciate, is greeted with hostility, also in the Church. "I know what I like" stops every argument, buttressed by "Musical taste is subjective". (I can't count the number of times this logic is used to determine which service one will attend, while refusing to ask the real questions about whether dividing the Church along musical taste lines is really nothing more than repeating the Corinthian's first sin.) Lebanese organist Naji Hakim has lamented that in the Catholic Church "many in positions of liturgical responsibility, with no musical education as regards technique or aesthetics, have come to believe in a tabula rasa , denying any lineage whatsoever". Professional musicians have been "sidelined" as "the lost common denominator has become the rule". He wonders whether Catholics "realize the level of mediocrity which the present liturgy has reached".
I'm pretty sure they don't.
The Church was able to cultivate liturgical tastes because it had its own musical style. That style flourished in the Middle Ages to such an extent that one could attend worship in Spain or in Egypt and find much of the same chanting. The Protestant Reformation -- for all its good -- also eroded that musical style, and thereby stripped congregations of the educational value in music (there have been some notable exceptions -- like Old Harp Singing -- but those are exceptions and not the rule). That's why I think it's time for the Church to reclaim its own musical style instead of bowing to market forces.
Think is, those market forces are powerful indeed. So until we begin questioning what's really happening with "contemporary worship", there's not a chance this will happen.