Criticizing informal worship (what most folks call contemporary worship that's a lot less contemporary than they think) is pretty old hat. It's such an easy target -- and has been since I was a seminary student in the late 90s. There's so much one can complain about: The lack of good theology, the ever-increasing prominence of "me, myself and
I", and the combination of complex musical arrangements with simplistic
melody lines, or complicated melody lines with predictable
arrangements, depending which side of the bed we emerge from that particular morning.
But I now think that's the wrong approach. Oh, I still think there's something dreadfully wrong about "contemporary" worship lyrics. But I think that's only part of the problem. There's a bigger problem, and it's not the music's fault.
To analyze this problem, let's go back in time, say, 60 years. In so many churches, you had people singing from hymn books, accompanied by an organist, perhaps strengthened by a choir, and in between the singing they were led through the service by a pastor, priest or minister. This person led prayers, said blessings, and ushered the congregation through the story-line that is worship. God welcomes us, we praise and confess, God speaks to us, God feeds us, we respond in prayer and offering, God sends, we go. The hymns belonged in the midst of this well-worn journey. Yes the hymns were richer in doctrine -- or maybe "thicker" is a better word. And how could they not be when they have five to seven verses and no repetition?!
But like then, as now, I don't think the hymns were doing all the heavy lifting for giving the worship services its depth and meaning. Rather it was this careful curation through the worship journey of God encountering people, people responding, God blessing, people going -- which was punctuated with spoken prayer, acts of blessing, celebrating sacraments and passing the peace as well as sung worship. Music was certainly part of that, but it was only part of it.
I've noticed something over recent weeks, as I've been thinking about this pattern of worship that used to pervade. Now-a-days, the standard service looks something like this:
That list covers the "how" of worship in exquisite detail. But there's something missing. The "what" or "why" of worship is entirely overlooked.
The opening songs may or may not function as a "call to worship". The prayers themselves are not necessarily prayers of confession or intercession -- they're more about whatever is on the pray-er's heart.
I don't think it's the musician's fault in the lack of specificity, either. We've produced a whole generation of contemporary worship songwriters using that nondescript form of worship. So it really shouldn't be a surprise when those songwriters produce theologically-impoverished songs.
Here's the reason: Music was never intended to carry the liturgy. The liturgy was intended to carry the music.
The liturgy is the order of what we do and why we do it, which was the task of the pastor/priest/minister, and it gave meaning to the songs we sang, the responses we made, the prayers we offered, and the gifts we brought. The old hymns didn't exist in a theological vacuum, but most of our contemporary worship songs are expected to. We betray this when we ask the congregation to stand and sing with the words, "let's worship" -- because music is now the only worshipful activity that remains to us. Perhaps what we are remembering when we recall the hymns, is not just the richness of the pieces of music themselves, but the general coherence of the service as a whole.
Now our worship songs (which are, let's face it, more theologically lightweight than their forebears) are framed in a significantly vaguer space than before. We might know how many songs we do before the welcome, and then how many more before the notices, but we no longer remember what function those songs are meant to perform. Is it any wonder our songwriters struggle for depth? We have them playing in the kiddy pool!
Just so we're clear here: I'm not advocating for a return to the "good ole' liturgical days" in which we sang hymns from hymnals, as if the way we worshiped 60 years ago is the only way to worship. That's as fool-hardy as what we're now doing. What I'm saying is much more radical.
I'm advocating that priests/pastors/ministers return to their role as our congregational liturgical theologians.
Given the influence of the charismatic movement on some congregations, compounded by a shift in pastoral responsibilities, and the heightened consumeristic approach of so many attendees, pastors have largely abdicated those roles to other folks. They don't have any direct impact on the structure of the worship service, apart from the "message". Pastors have handed over that role to church musicians or musical professionals. Just witness the rise of "ministers of music/worship" in thriving local congregations.
One might ask, have those musicians begun to receive resourcing and training to enable them to lead the congregation in worship, to give voice to the spirituality of a whole community before God? In my experience, no. This situation may not strike us as odd because we're so used to it, but consider this scenario. How weird would it have been, "back in the good ol' days", to have let the organist lead the service, pick their favorite songs, and lead all the prayers (off the cuff) from the console? It didn't make sense then, and I'm not sure it makes sense now.
Pastors are uniquely qualified to give logic and coherence to the worship service. They are pastorally linked in to what is happening in the congregation, they are theologically astute in order to let the great themes of Scripture seep through a whole service, and they are wordsmiths. Just the sort of people to craft prayers which gather up our hopes and our fears, and hold them alongside the promises of God. When the pastor abdicates this role to the guitarist, or leaves the guitarist with too few resources to draw upon, then the worship service starts to feel like a variety concert, rather than a pilgrimage into the heart of God, and then with God into the world.
Just so we're clear, here, exactly what am I advocating? If you're in a church where the worship service is completely in the hands of the musicians, perhaps it's a matter of sparking up some conversations with your key leaders, helping them to move beyond their own spirituality and into facilitating a experience of worship that is hospitable for the whole congregation, linking them with the cadence of God's story. Introduce them to the rhythms of worship, the back and forward nature of God calling and people answering.
When we share the liturgical load across the service, I suspect we won't find so many things lacking with our songs anymore. The strength of the contemporary worship song is that they're often simple and informal; offering space to allow a truth to sink deep within us, or for us to reflect or wonder. Exactly the kind of liturgical experience that will deepen and enrich a thoughtfully tailored worshipping journey. These songs belong in a rich tapestry of artful worship, not hung out on their own.
When there's a coherence in worship, and depth and meaning to our prayers -- prayers where the "Amen" comes out of us with force of conviction rather than the force of habit -- as well as words of welcome and sending that draw people out of their small, fractured worlds, into the wide-open spaces of God, then I think the church will be in a place to produce musicians who write better songs.
The hope of informal ("contemporary") worship doesn't lie in the music alone. It lies in a worship liturgy where the people have an idea what we're doing and why we're doing it.
But I now think that's the wrong approach. Oh, I still think there's something dreadfully wrong about "contemporary" worship lyrics. But I think that's only part of the problem. There's a bigger problem, and it's not the music's fault.
To analyze this problem, let's go back in time, say, 60 years. In so many churches, you had people singing from hymn books, accompanied by an organist, perhaps strengthened by a choir, and in between the singing they were led through the service by a pastor, priest or minister. This person led prayers, said blessings, and ushered the congregation through the story-line that is worship. God welcomes us, we praise and confess, God speaks to us, God feeds us, we respond in prayer and offering, God sends, we go. The hymns belonged in the midst of this well-worn journey. Yes the hymns were richer in doctrine -- or maybe "thicker" is a better word. And how could they not be when they have five to seven verses and no repetition?!
But like then, as now, I don't think the hymns were doing all the heavy lifting for giving the worship services its depth and meaning. Rather it was this careful curation through the worship journey of God encountering people, people responding, God blessing, people going -- which was punctuated with spoken prayer, acts of blessing, celebrating sacraments and passing the peace as well as sung worship. Music was certainly part of that, but it was only part of it.
I've noticed something over recent weeks, as I've been thinking about this pattern of worship that used to pervade. Now-a-days, the standard service looks something like this:
- Two or three upbeat songs
- Welcome
- Two more upbeat songs with a prayer in between
- Announcements (with the kids going out of the service for "Children's Church")
- A couple more reflective songs with a prayer and offering
- The "message"/sermon
- A more reflective song as the invitation
- Prayer as the dismissal
That list covers the "how" of worship in exquisite detail. But there's something missing. The "what" or "why" of worship is entirely overlooked.
The opening songs may or may not function as a "call to worship". The prayers themselves are not necessarily prayers of confession or intercession -- they're more about whatever is on the pray-er's heart.
I don't think it's the musician's fault in the lack of specificity, either. We've produced a whole generation of contemporary worship songwriters using that nondescript form of worship. So it really shouldn't be a surprise when those songwriters produce theologically-impoverished songs.
Here's the reason: Music was never intended to carry the liturgy. The liturgy was intended to carry the music.
The liturgy is the order of what we do and why we do it, which was the task of the pastor/priest/minister, and it gave meaning to the songs we sang, the responses we made, the prayers we offered, and the gifts we brought. The old hymns didn't exist in a theological vacuum, but most of our contemporary worship songs are expected to. We betray this when we ask the congregation to stand and sing with the words, "let's worship" -- because music is now the only worshipful activity that remains to us. Perhaps what we are remembering when we recall the hymns, is not just the richness of the pieces of music themselves, but the general coherence of the service as a whole.
Now our worship songs (which are, let's face it, more theologically lightweight than their forebears) are framed in a significantly vaguer space than before. We might know how many songs we do before the welcome, and then how many more before the notices, but we no longer remember what function those songs are meant to perform. Is it any wonder our songwriters struggle for depth? We have them playing in the kiddy pool!
Just so we're clear here: I'm not advocating for a return to the "good ole' liturgical days" in which we sang hymns from hymnals, as if the way we worshiped 60 years ago is the only way to worship. That's as fool-hardy as what we're now doing. What I'm saying is much more radical.
I'm advocating that priests/pastors/ministers return to their role as our congregational liturgical theologians.
Given the influence of the charismatic movement on some congregations, compounded by a shift in pastoral responsibilities, and the heightened consumeristic approach of so many attendees, pastors have largely abdicated those roles to other folks. They don't have any direct impact on the structure of the worship service, apart from the "message". Pastors have handed over that role to church musicians or musical professionals. Just witness the rise of "ministers of music/worship" in thriving local congregations.
One might ask, have those musicians begun to receive resourcing and training to enable them to lead the congregation in worship, to give voice to the spirituality of a whole community before God? In my experience, no. This situation may not strike us as odd because we're so used to it, but consider this scenario. How weird would it have been, "back in the good ol' days", to have let the organist lead the service, pick their favorite songs, and lead all the prayers (off the cuff) from the console? It didn't make sense then, and I'm not sure it makes sense now.
Pastors are uniquely qualified to give logic and coherence to the worship service. They are pastorally linked in to what is happening in the congregation, they are theologically astute in order to let the great themes of Scripture seep through a whole service, and they are wordsmiths. Just the sort of people to craft prayers which gather up our hopes and our fears, and hold them alongside the promises of God. When the pastor abdicates this role to the guitarist, or leaves the guitarist with too few resources to draw upon, then the worship service starts to feel like a variety concert, rather than a pilgrimage into the heart of God, and then with God into the world.
Just so we're clear, here, exactly what am I advocating? If you're in a church where the worship service is completely in the hands of the musicians, perhaps it's a matter of sparking up some conversations with your key leaders, helping them to move beyond their own spirituality and into facilitating a experience of worship that is hospitable for the whole congregation, linking them with the cadence of God's story. Introduce them to the rhythms of worship, the back and forward nature of God calling and people answering.
When we share the liturgical load across the service, I suspect we won't find so many things lacking with our songs anymore. The strength of the contemporary worship song is that they're often simple and informal; offering space to allow a truth to sink deep within us, or for us to reflect or wonder. Exactly the kind of liturgical experience that will deepen and enrich a thoughtfully tailored worshipping journey. These songs belong in a rich tapestry of artful worship, not hung out on their own.
When there's a coherence in worship, and depth and meaning to our prayers -- prayers where the "Amen" comes out of us with force of conviction rather than the force of habit -- as well as words of welcome and sending that draw people out of their small, fractured worlds, into the wide-open spaces of God, then I think the church will be in a place to produce musicians who write better songs.
The hope of informal ("contemporary") worship doesn't lie in the music alone. It lies in a worship liturgy where the people have an idea what we're doing and why we're doing it.