Ross Cobb, the incredible musician behind the Sydney Anglican Cathedral’s various groups, has an interesting article in the latest Southern Cross. (Click here to read the original)

One of his big points is that classical and contemporary church music teams both need to work together to reach the community:

Neither should look down their noses at the other. If we are going to reach 10 per cent of Sydney, then it is inevitable that we are going to have to make ‘horses for courses’ decisions and incorporate as many styles of music as there are people. The gospel is bigger than any musical style, be it old or recent.

It’s a very interesting article. Particularly relevant for us is his indictment on much contemporary music:

[Visitors] are just flummoxed by some of our contemporary Christian songs. They are tricky to pick up and the musical backing we are providing is quite thin.

This is a very real concern - although to be fair it is a criticism we need to consider whatever the style we choose. The melodies of hymns and choruses alike can be inaccessible to outsiders, depending on their musical background and cultural exposure. It is true that many people (whether through their parent’s record players, private school education or ABC Classic FM) have a familiarity with great hymns. Anyone who has been to the rugby knows at least the melody to “I Vow To Thee”. Cobb is right that we must reach these people.

But equally true is that the landscape of Australia’s cultural heritage is getting more and more diverse. You can expect some age and ethnic sub groups will never have heard an organ — my parents’ generation was the one that on the whole stopped sending their kids to Sunday school. The team at Mars Hill Church in Seattle have been openly critical of a Christian music market which assumes that what works in Nashville should work in any continent. I think there is something in that - we need to be asking who is in our neighbourhood and our culture that we can reach out to, and how can music help us do that?

So Cobb is at his strongest, I think, when he calls for excellence and mission-mindedness no matter what the style.

Now, what you do with that hymn is very much up to you. People have a very diverse taste and God has an even broader one. Jazz the hymn up if that’s you. Sing it with a guitar, a didgeridoo, a pipe organ- whatever. But make sure you sing them – the tunes are good and the words are tried and tested and full of gospel truth.

Amen.

Most conversations about being a faithful church musician begin with this familiar distinction: normally musicians are all about performance, in church we have to play differently. Performance is about grabbing attention, feeding egos, entertaining people. Church is about humility, service and love.

Of course, much of what goes on at your average pub gig is out of place in church. There is a difference between secular and sacred musicianship. Yet I want to suggest that there might be more to it than the simple performance/service dichotomy suggests.

The performance/service distinction confuses two related, but very distinct, issues. The first is how we play. Not a single bar goes by without a hundred little decisions: what style, how loud, how complicated, which notes, and when. The second is why. Why are we playing? What is our motivation? Are we considering the interests of others above ourselves? Do we want to be respected or do we long for Jesus to be glorified? You’ll notice that these are exactly the same questions which the preacher has probably being struggling with all afternoon. No matter how we serve, it will always be a battle to align our vain, proud hearts with God’s will.

Clearly the issues are related. Our motivations will inevitably influence how we play. If we are seeking our own glory this might be reflected in how we play (ostentatious guitar solos spring to mind), thus giving others convenient occasion to quietly judge us.

Yet that’s not the whole story. I’m reminded here about C.S. Lewis’ distinction between pride and vanity. The vain musician plays too many notes because he’s seeking approval. The prideful musician might play exactly what’s needed – yet still have his or her heart far away from God. The first is immature. The second is something far worse. Something I often struggle with.

We will always struggle to keep our hearts pure at every second. And we can’t always keep our hearts in line by playing more simply (although sometimes I’ve found it to be good discipline). How we play may be a good diagnostic test, but not always. Let’s tackle the two issues individually. Let’s get out hearts sorted out through prayer and a good dose of honesty. Then let’s sit down, work out what is the best way for us to play, and just get on and do our job.

Imagine one week at church we paid five of the best session players we could find to come and accompany our singing. They might not sing along, and they certainly wouldn’t share in our fellowship in the same way. Their motives would have nothing to do with humbly serving the congregation – they’re just doing their job. They would play professionally. Doing exactly their job. No more, no less.

W

hat would change if we gave them hearts for God? Probably very little, audibly. And that’s why in working out how we should play I think it’s more helpful to put aside talk of “not performing” and just focus on doing our jobs. With that settled we can start focussing on having hearts in the right places. At least, that’s what I found.

The performance/service distinction is a good starting point, but it doesn’t go far enough. In fact sometimes it goes too far in the wrong direction, and we are left with boring music. Now, I don’t have anything against boring music. But if you are going to be tempted to yawn while singing about Jesus’ death, then please just stop.

Moving forward: Some suggestions

Thanks

“What do you say to a musician who has done a really good job?” someone asked me recently. You don’t want to build their ego’s. But encouragement is a great blessing in a church.

Personally, what I’d find most encouraging after spending hours battling to get everyone in tune and in time is “thanks, I found singing together tonight really encouraging”.

Prayer

If you are not starting your band practices with a time of prayer and sharing you need to. I know music teams who spend 30 mins together talking about their lives and praying for the service every week. Not a second of that is wasted.

Singing along

I remember playing in a band at KCC recently and having Willow (the sound guru) come up to us and thank us for singing along while we played. Apparently everyone found it encouraging. We didn’t notice, because we were so caught up in the words which we’d played a thousand times but never sang past verse 2 until then. Try it! (Flautists are excused, reluctantly).

Policy

Work out how you play before you play. What is most helpful?

Take some time off

Everyone should have at least one week off every month. Our church barely has enough musos to make a full band (let alone two or three), so we just have heaps scaled back music on the fourth Sunday of every month. I’m prepared to have no singing (or use backing tracks/organ) if it means giving the musos a break.

Why are we so afraid of emotion in our worship music? Well produced but unbiblical music can give us a “spiritual experience” without spiritual reality: we feel close to God without the need for the pesky accessories (like God’s word and obedience and stuff). But given those dangers we good evangelicals seem to have decided, recently I think, to ration out our emotion in conservatively levelled teaspoons rather than risk losing our hold on The Word. This makes sense, given that words are immune from abuse, whereas emotion is strange and usually bad.

Except we know the ‘given’ is rubbish. The pulpit can also easily lull us into error, be it idle complacency or even wholesale false belief. Compared to the minefield of oral theology with its tactful qualifications and reassuring retranslations of the NIV, the hazards of emotion seem easily navigable. It’s hard to think of a case where a person who has passed from death to life can go wrong with Joy. If we are happy, then we should sing songs of praise (Jas 5:13). Done. We can be serious about the word, and excited beyond verbal expression about it’s consequences at the same time.

Songs are not memory aids. Nor are they declaratory statements of truth put to music. They certainly are meant to edify us, but unlike anthems and war cries they are sung to a true and living God. Likewise thankfulness is not the only reason we sing. In the first place we sing because God is God, and is worthy of our worship and praise even before we get to the specifics. Singing is one way we worship God. Hebrews 13:15 exhorts us to “through Jesus… continually offer to God a sacrifice of praise–the fruit of lips that confess his name”. Not that praise or sacrifices of any kind can make us right with God, but that being made right with God we can happily fulfil our purpose in creation: to bring glory to God, and to honour Him in everything.

Songs teach us, but they teach us best when they speak to our hearts. It is the language of feelings, yes, but feelings with the depth which only comes from the solid grounding of truth. Very often songs tell us what we have known since Sunday school, but with a freshness and immediacy that cuts straight to our hearts. “Rock of Ages cleft for me” is impossible to sing without someone crying. It’s a good song: the melody is pretty, and the lyrics are poetry, by which I mean they open up meaning with an elegant economy of words. But it’s the truth which brings the tears.

Of course, good modern worship music should be as singable as the best hymns. Who wants to sing at church like a self conscious teeny-bopper might sing to the radio? Musically it is a completely different kettle of worms. Behold the Lamb of God is still alive and rocking EU camps 15 years on because it’s not written as a pop song, it’s written as a church song. And that means rock solid melody with rock solid truth. Love it or hate it, you can’t forget it.