Earlier this year, contemporary worship came under relentless attack from a chorus of critics, labelling it a performance, entertainment, shallow, and false. The pummelling continued, calling for liturgy to replace the vibrant thrum of passionate communal worship. I disagreed, writing several posts on the topic – I love to worship and have always found it a natural place to rendezvous with my Lord. I love to bask in the Holy Spirit’s presence with other believers and be led as a group in our use of spiritual gifts. For me, times of prayer and worship are the crucible of unity, an organic way to connect with God, and a place of true refreshment.
Despite my love of worship, a recent event has prompted a bit of a rethink. I attended a service at an unfamiliar church, and was trying to engage as the worship began. I enjoyed the first song, which helped me tune into the whisper of God. The cogs began to turn as new thoughts were inspired, but then we moved onto another song and I became distracted. A strange thought occurred:
Why are we still singing?
I wanted to dwell on the message coming through in my spirit but the music continued, as did the intensity, and I couldn’t continue down that road with the worship band. It struck me as odd that we sing for 30 solid minutes every single week, as if noise is the only form of worship.
One of the accusations levelled against contemporary worship is that it is performance driven, which might be true but I don’t think it’s intentional. It’s a tradition like any other – we sing the songs one after the other till the end. And of course, the worship leader is expected to provide spiritual leadership, at the very least by being into the songs and meaning the words, which in turn can also become an accidental performance if they’re not feeling it that week. Some of the accusations levelled against contemporary worship and its leaders are heavy-handed and condemning, or at least that’s how they come across to me, but I concede that there are elements which can become performative if worship becomes a tradition instead of a living encounter.
Is there an alternative?
So how do we make sure our communal acts of praise are a genuine encounter with the divine rather than a rigid, performative tradition? Liturgy really doesn’t sound like the answer to me – what could be more rigid? If liturgy works for you, then more power to your elbow, but I don’t think it has the potential to replace sung worship for the vast majority of believers.
The church of my upbringing had a weekly communion service without any agenda. We would sit in silence until someone felt inspired to rise to their feet and do one of four things – request a specific song/hymn, pray, read from the Bible, or read from the Bible and share a thought about what was read. This was an ex-brethren assembly and about as conservative as an Evangelical church can get. Some influential figures were cessationists, the gifts of the Spirit were not practiced and sometimes attributed to the Devil, and women were not allowed to teach, meaning that although they could request a song or read from the Bible, they couldn’t share any of their own thoughts. Despite all this, the communion service was a time when the Spirit could speak to his people, even if they denied him free rein. I suppose you could say it was a divine stealth operation! There were occasions, albeit rare ones, when the presence of the Lord would manifest in a way that was hard to deny. I remember one such service when an old chap got to his feet and said:
“I know we’re not meant to think this way, but sometimes he’s right here!”
Putting aside the error of cessationism and the sin of quenching the Spirit, the communion service format could be a viable alternative to continuous singing. We could start with a blank slate, trusting the Spirit to lead us throughout. Perhaps someone will share a passage, another might prophecy, someone else may lead us in a prayer, yet another could lead us in a meditation or reflection. Songs would be interspersed throughout but without the performative element of a full set, and they could be performed by a much smaller band without all the fuss. Naturally, the worship leader should be free to move into another song if they feel led to do so, but also to stop playing or to play quietly in the background as people pray. Crucially, we would also sit in silence, contemplating whatever inspiration we’ve gained and listening to the Lord. Silence is a powerful discipline, rarely practiced in church.
So in one sense I agree with some of the criticisms of contemporary worship – we don’t need to put on a show and we don’t need constant noise – but my preferred direction of travel is not to box ourselves in with liturgy, but to rely more heavily on the gifts of the Spirit, and to bravely shrug off all structures and traditions in favour of true, Spirit-led worship. One thing I know for sure – when we gather in his name, the Lord is present and active. All we need to do is tune in. Matthew 18:20,
For where two or three are gathered together in My name, I am there in the midst of them.
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