Singing In Church With Elvis, Aerosmith, And Bonhoeffer

I once actually stood in church and sang the words, “Blah, Blah, Blah.” And no one could tell the difference. No one could hear anything anyways because the music was so loud. Just being authentic here, but with the lyrics as simplistic as they were, I couldn’t even tell the difference.

I have to wonder if God noticed.

As some of you know from my post Why I’ve Stopped Singing in Your Church, I struggle to reconcile much of what passes for modern worship music with biblical passages about God.

The Psalmist tells us God’s thoughts are deep — but not most of our songs about Him. His ways are not our ways –but we think we can sum it up in five words that endlessly repeat. And “it’s all about you” except , of course, when we gush about how Jesus gives us that warm, tingling sensation (an experience also commonly attributed to medicated dandruff shampoo from what I see in commercials).

I often feel as if church music got hijacked by Elvis and stuck in a post-Woodstock paradigm, driven by a concert-performance model already fading away in this digital era. How much longer until we can “experience ” church through a device strapped to our wrist and use an app to offer our praises. Perhaps we can choose a vocal avatar, just tap your favorite artist icon and your praise will be broadcast in their voice. All you’ll have to do is lip sync. Oh wait, a lot of us already do that.

And I can’t wait until someone dreams up a way to incorporate drones into the offering collection.

The Tyranny of the Next

I’ve been reading Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s Life Together. Although I do not agree with Bonhoeffer on his austere approach to congregational singing (the absence of harmonizing voices, for example), I do think he makes the case that we have lost the unifying power of God’s people singing in unison about God’s truth.

Instead we’ve settled for flashbacks to our Sunday School experiences when we sang shallow ditties that looped endlessly. But at least we have cool guitars now that wail instead of having to engage in rhythmic clapping exercises, right?

One commentator on my post Why I Left Your Seeker-Friendly Church made a good point about the present worship music model having been designed to suit Baby Boomers and GenXers. I agree.

My friend Rich Birch wrote a post about the recent shift in musical styles in our culture and what that might mean for worship in church. I don’t agree with him on everything, but it’s worth a read because it begs the question: to what extent should our worship music be driven by cultural trends?

Let’s face it. The electric guitar has seen better days. Jimi Hendrix left the building a long time ago. Aerosmith has joined AARP. If we’re going for culturally relevant, then it’s time to make some changes. I’m not saying we should follow the crowd, but let’s at least begin acknowledging that we’re not even doing what we say we’re trying to do.

Courage: The Missing Ingredient

Just for once, I’d like the Church of Jesus Christ to do something different — I’d like her to lead. One thing that is missing from the Christian church — and all of American culture for that matter — is courage.

We see it in our approach to music and singing in church. Most churches follow the lead of a few mega-churches. But those mega-churches often have the unique mission of trying to reach the un-churched.

And so our churches become places where non-Christians can feel comfortable. No wonder so many believers don’t feel welcome there anymore. What they should be offering is answers, the truth about life, the universe, and everything –and authentic community.

What Millenials want is authentic community. What they need is an encounter with Truth incarnate. Ironically, our churches often deliver neither because we’re so focused on trying to become what we think will appeal to those in need rather than trying to be what they truly need — the body of Jesus Himself.

Here’s the thing: we have defined faith so narrowly that it is hardly relevant anymore for anything. We’ve dumbed it down, limiting it to a one-time conversion experience. We’ve confined it to what I describe in my book as The Salvation Box. We’ve bought into the lie that “Christ came to save sinners” means he wants them to “get saved” rather than engage in a process of ongoing regeneration that requires ever-increasing levels of faith in Him as are conformed to the image of Christ.

Thus we structure our services to make people feel good about having made a one-time commitment to Christ. We let them hang out in the shallow end of the theology pool because we think that as long as they’re in the pool, they’re good.

But saving faith doesn’t work that way. If we’re not growing, we’re dying. When our faith fails to grow, it may be we never had any in the first place.

Faith thrives on truth, not the propaganda that we can coast if we once said a conversion prayer. As I put it in my new book A Story Worth Telling:

The problem with coasting is this: heaven is not downhill. That would be the other destination. [ Tweet this! ]

_____________________

Get your copy of Why I’ve Stopped Singing in Your Church: Answers to Questions You’ve Been Afraid to Ask about Church Issues.

Finally, someone speaks up to offer answers to the questions you’ve been afraid to ask about church issues. For all those in the Christian church who feel their voices are not being heard, Why I’ve Stopped Singing in Your Church is entertaining therapy for the frustrated soul.

Unfortunately, truth is not always welcome in the Christian church today. Yet without it, the church has little reason for existing. This book is a collection of truth-telling essays, comedic rants, and open letters offered with a twist of humor and sarcasm in the hope of focusing attention on real church issues that are often ignored.

Some readers will laugh, others will cry with empathy, while others will try to burn it – perhaps not the wisest thing to do with an e-book, but so long as they don’t use any four-letter words, I suppose it’s all good.

Click the book cover below to begin reading, learning — and laughing! — in just seconds!