First, these thoughts are meant to apply only to the praise music that I have heard sung in a few churches. It may very well be that there are representative songs in this genre that my preferences would deem fit to be called Christian, but my limited exposure just hasn’t had the privilege of hearing or singing them yet. Perhaps this post will prompt some such examples from a few readers, but as the readership of this blog is, indeed, sparse, it’s doubtful.
So, why aren’t the songs having received the imprimatur of a few churches in my ken Christian? Perhaps some lines from these songs will provide a clue to an answer:
“Lord, I lift Your name on high,” “Lord, I love to sing Your praises,” “I’m so glad You’re in my life,” “You came…my debt to pay,” “I will not forget your love to me,” “Hold me to Your side and I will love You to the end,” “I will bless the Lord forever,” “I will not be moved,” “Draw me in,” “You have made me glad,” “And I’ll say of the Lord…,” “Thank You, Lord, for bearing all my sin and shame,” “Now I know your embrace,” “You are my everything and I will adore you,” “I sing praises to the King of kings,” “Jesus, I’m so in love with You,” etc., etc., etc.
Except for one of the songs in this category that I can recall singing, they are all about an unholy trinity of “Me, Myself and I.” It almost seems as if we imagine by singing such words that God is so pleased at the sound of our melodic flattery that the Divine Being surely must bless us with some sort of special or chosen status for our feel-good blather.
Some will argue that such personal, pietistic panegyrics have always found their way into church music, but while, perhaps, true, it seems to this observer that the rise of the Jesus movement in the 1970s (following the fading of the anti-war and civil rights protest movements) brought with it flourishing new industries in Christian country music, Christian pop, Christian rock, Christian metal, Christian hardcore, Christian punk, Christian alternative rock and Christian hip hop, all of which have proven lucrative for their proponents. Whereas in former times first-person singular language in church music may have been an expression of one’s deep, personal commitment, today such commitment, genuine or not, just happens to coincide with earthly gain and popularity. One wonders if contemporary Christian music composition/performance would be as attractive, were it not accompanied by such corporal incentives?
One aspiring Christian music star reported in his Facebook page some months back about driving past a beautiful mansion in a panoramic country setting and wondering if he would “make it” and, thereby, have his own house like that. It’s natural for young people starting their careers to be centered in concern about “making it” in their chosen field, but is possessing palatial property an authentic sign of what purports to be Christian devotion? Is there not some disparity between who Jesus was and what he did, and an industry that turns his life, teaching and even his death into a profitable business?
That’s where the rubber screeches against the pavement, isn’t it? The Christian story, Gospel, message is about a man whose life was literally given for others. His compassion was such that he poured out his life for the sake of others, especially the poor, outcasts, downtrodden, dejected, the weak, young, old, and broken. It was this same compassion that led to his blistering of the so-called “best” people about town, the well-to-do, the brokers of power, the prestigious. He never singled them out for attack as individuals, but as types of self-important hypocrites, he flayed them, calling them vipers and white-washed sepulchers. They sang God’s praises because their fortunate circumstances meant that God had blessed them above those less obviously favored. They pretended that God walked with them, and talked with them, and patted them on the head or rump. But Jesus’ pervasive sense of compassion for all life saw right through their pretentiousness, calling them out for their lack of humane care and treatment of others.
Perhaps if what passes for contemporary praise, instead of singing “Hey, God, look at me and bless me because I’m singing your praises,” would focus more on God’s care for all of creation (“He’s Got the whole world in His Hands”) or Jesus’ call to take up his cross and follow him into areas crying out for life’s basic needs—“to bring good news to the poor, proclaim release to the captives, and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free” [Luke 4:18-19]—(“Here I Am, Lord”), then the music we sing may resonate more accurately with our call as Christians.
An irony here has to do with how the few churches familiar to me that have turned large chunks of their worship services over to egocentric praise music are actually very much involved in improving the living conditions of the less fortunate and making a constructive difference for others. Relationally, these congregations possess genuine warmth that is accepting of all persons and they do remarkable work to improve the welfare of the larger community. It’s as if there’s a wrenching disconnect between the message in the music they sing and what they are actually doing. They are following the Jesus of our faith into life’s hard places.
So, why the preoccupation with self-promoting paeans of praise? When watching You-Tube clips of many of these praise songs being sung by the artists who have “made it,” the setting is usually a large arena filled with people, arms raised and bodies jumping and jiving to Jesus. It seems to parallel a scene in the Bible, in the Book of Revelation (Rev. 7), where a multitude too numerous to count, from all nationalities and cultures, surrounds God’s throne in praise. Could it be that what is happening now in arenas across the country is a projection, however subliminally, of biblical images of the end of time. If such is the case, then it is a perversion of the biblical message. Besides the obvious — history isn’t over yet — the people included in that great multitude around the throne in the biblical vision are those who have washed their clothing in the “blood of the Lamb,” those who have suffered hunger and thirst, the least prosperous, the poor and marginalized, succinctly, those who have sacrificed and/or been made bloody by following the way of Jesus. The so-called “best” people, the right people to be with if you want to get ahead, are not there. Or, as Jesus (according to Matthew) says, “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven.”
Well, there they are: some thoughts about the latest fad in church worship. I close with a quote from an essay by the British mystery writer, Dorothy L. Sayers, entitled CREED OR CHAOS: “If all…are offended because of Christ, let them be offended; but where is the sense of their being offended at something that is not Christ and is nothing like him? We do Him singularly little honor by watering down his personality till it could not offend a fly.”
