Some church services make me want to run from Christians rather than worship God.
Just last month I attended a service led by a black guy on rhythm guitar, a barefoot white girl with an amazing voice, and an Asian on lead guitar. In the background, a keyboardist, bassist, and drummer added to the combined musicianship, which was first-rate. This young band’s diversity, energy, and excitement stirred my heart and I began to worship.
I became frustrated, however, when the lyrics continued to focus primarily on the experience of—and pumping up—the crowd, rather than the beauty of our Creator. At one point the words on the screen were, “when you fall, we fall.” I thought, amidst a malaise of raised hands and repetition, “What the heck does that mean?!” The worship leader lost me and I could not follow him to the place he was trying to take me. Like the Coldplay concert I recently attended, I was “feeling drunk and high,” but I’m not sure our destination was the throne of God.
Truthfully, many contemporary services make me feel like I’m stuck in a Hallmark store, forced to sift through superficial sentiments. Every so often the words “Jesus,” “Grace,” “Mercy” sound over the loud speakers.
I get what we are trying to do: engage new generations, put the cookies on the lower shelf, avoid “rutualism” and dead orthodoxy, and help church not feel like a funeral service. I also understand that we live in a biblically illiterate time that prefers visuals to reading, and fast food to vegetables. Further, I share the conviction that good churches care about outreach and engaging the culture. We all know, however, that a constant diet of pictures only, a disdain for anything old, and eating too many quarter-pounders—even if that’s what we like—doesn’t contribute to long-term health.
A recent article in Christianity Today explores a trend to use electronic dance music (EDM) in worship. Part of the case is that it “helps spread the gospel to young people” and “gives them a style of music they can feel some ownership in.”[1] While this may be true, a steady diet of church club music may also promote something we all don’t want: less discipleship and more one night stands with Jesus.
Another argument the article gave for using one style of music to target a certain audience is that it provides “a sense of community and collective experience.” This strategy may be fine for initial outreach, but not for incorporating believers—young or old—into what C.S. Lewis calls the great hall of Christianity. If it’s a “collective experience” it includes everyone. If is doesn’t, it’s not collective; it’s exclusive. And the problem with this kind of exclusively long-term—again, for young or old—is that it breeds pride, a lack of respect and appreciation for others, and an idolization of a certain age group or class.
Life stays in a place where it’s all about me and my mates. Three guys listening to music in a closet may seem like a collective experience to them. Left in that space, however, they remain separated from the rest of the house. Similarly, basking only in our own preferences and identity will leave us breathing stale air in a small world, and disconnected from our roots and the larger household of faith.
That is why blended worship is, for me, a conviction. Blended worship is an inclusive mix of the best of the new and the old.
On the “new” side of the mix, we are commanded to sing a “new song” to the Lord (Psa. 33:3). Fresh works of the Spirit in new generations produce and require fresh expressions of worship (contemporary songs, hymns, reinterpretations of old hymns or psalms, etc.). Likewise, a church that sees God as the creator of racial and ethnic diversity will grow to appreciate the inclusion of people and styles that are different from their own.
On the “old” side of the mix, we are part of a rich tradition that includes creeds, old hymns, readings from the Psalter, awareness of the church calendar, etc. Further, many of the old hymns have theologically robust and beautifully crafted lyrics: Crown Him with Many Crowns, Be Thou My Vision, Holy, Holy, Holy, A Mighty Fortress is Our God, etc.. Finally, one of the most practical benefits of blended worship is this: the best of our heritage sets a standard and holds us accountable to create, use, and pass on the best of the new.
Much of the discussion above relates to the use of praise and celebration in worship rather than worship itself. Worship literally means to ascribe worth to God and bow down. Psa. 95:6 says it well: “Come, let us worship and bow down. Let us kneel before the Lord our maker…”(NLT) Moreover, worship is an all-encompassing view of reality (Rom. 12:1)—a disposition of the heart that goes deeper than euphoria. This is clearly evidenced when Job “fell on the ground and worshipped” after he learned that his children had been killed (Job 1:20).
Is this the depth you are pursuing in your worship? Does your current experience lead you to bow down in awe (Psa. 5:7), appreciate the new and the old, and fully engage your heart (mind, will, and emotions)?
Next week, we will look at six suggestions specifically for those who influence the weekly worship of others, and four more that apply to all of us.
[1] Jeff Neely, “Worship with a Drop: Why Churches are Turning to club Music to Elevate Praise,” Christianity Today, 61, no. 6 (July/August 2017), 50-53.