Of the things I have never understood, these are included – why church attendance rises so much at Christmas, and why so many recording artists produce Christmas albums during their career. The only conclusion I can draw is that they must not think about the words they are singing when they sing the traditional hymns of this season.
The church has many great hymns that proclaim the wonderful truths of the Christian faith, but I find that many of our Advent and Christmas hymns make those declarations in an especially poignant way. I was thinking about this yesterday evening during our carol service, looking at the many unfamiliar faces gathered in the church. Why were they there? And why did they so readily sing these songs, even with exuberance?
If people took a moment to think about the lyrics of the Advent and Christmas hymns, I wonder how they would react to something like the third verse of 'Hark! The Herald Angels Sing':
Hail the heav'n-born Prince of Peace! Hail the Sun of Righteousness! Light and life to all He brings, Ris'n with healing in His wings. Mild He lays His glory by, Born that man no more may die, Born to raise the sons of earth, Born to give them second birth.
Many of these songs are joyful expressions of the wonder of the incarnation. Other songs boldly present a challenge to those who have not confessed Christ as Lord, and demand a response. Consider this verse, from 'Joy to the World':
He rules the world with truth and grace, And makes the nations prove The glories of His righteousness, And wonders of His love.
Yea, Lord, we greet Thee, Born this happy morning, Jesus, to Thee be all glory giv'n!
In November of last year, Al Wolters wrote an excellent article for the online version of Comment magazine, making a similar point about the 'Hallelujah Chorus' in Handel'sMessiah. He notes that despite the overtly religious theme – that Jesus Christ is the Messiah and that his Kingdom rules over all the earth – people in our culture still stand up when the choir sings the majestic chorus. What makes this especially interesting is the juxtaposition of the confession of Christ as Lord, ruling over all the earth, with Psalm 2, which is sung prior to the chorus. Wolters observes,
The meaning is unmistakable. The nations at large conspire against the Lord and against his Anointed, and plan to cast off all restraints that he has imposed on them. But God will only laugh at their defiance, and he (now addressed in the second person) will crush their rebellion and smash them like a piece of pottery. Then the "Hallelujah," with its celebration of the universal triumph of God in Jesus Christ, is sung. And audiences across several continents get to their feet in symbolic endorsement.
What do we make of this? It may be surprising that people who don't consider themselves Christians continue to sing these songs (or even celebrate Christmas, for that matter), but old cultural mores die hard, and that these songs remain so widely known owes to the vestiges of a culture in which Christianity once had a more prominent place.
Still, how can so many people sing the words of these songs and not be taken aback by the startling claims they make? One reason, perhaps, is their familiarity. Repetition serves as an aid to remembering something and implanting it in our mind, but too much repetition can sometimes dull the effect of the thing to be remembered. We hear these songs played over and over again at this time of year, and it may just be that the oft-repeated choruses no longer hit us with the full force of their declarations. More, the power of the message of the church's Advent and Christmas hymns is diluted further when mixed in with the many trivial and meaningless seasonal songs that have been produced over the years, such as the patently ridiculous 'Here Comes Santa Claus.'
Unfortunately, many of those who sing these songs during this season will likely not be in a place where the songs are accompanied by a faithful proclamation of the gospel, underscoring and heralding the powerful truths the hymn-writers penned, challenging the listeners to surrender their lives to the newborn King they sing of. The sad reality is that many of the churches that see a swelling of attendance during the holidays are no longer known for their orthodoxy, and so the bold hymns of Christmas just become happy carols to sing by candlelight.
That being said, it really is quite significant that during this season, even in our day, people will repeatedly hear songs proclaiming that Jesus is Lord broadcast over the airwaves or in their neighbourhoods or in churches all across our towns and cities. Let us hope and pray that as they hear and sing these songs and find themselves confronted with the truth of the gospel, that they would be captivated by the wonder and the promise of the incarnation, and fall on their knees in worship before the Lord of heaven and earth.
Last night, we had dinner with an elderly couple from the church, after which we stood around their piano to sing some hymns. In the preface to the hymnal, which was produced by the Evangelical Movement of Wales, was this list of instructions originally given by John Wesley on how to sing hymns:
1. Learn the tunes. 2. Sing them as printed. 3. Sing all. If it is a cross to you, take it up and you will find it a blessing. 4. Sing lustily and with good courage. 5. Sing modestly. Do not bawl. 6. Sing in time. Do not run before or stay behind. 7. Above all, sing spiritually. Have an eye to God in every word you sing. Aim at pleasing Him more than yourself or any other creature. In order to do this, attend strictly to the sense of what you sing, and see that your heart is not carried away with the sound, but offered to God continually.
It is not a bad list to check yourself against as you think about your own singing in worship, whatever the musical style.
A friend of mine from church, Eric Horner, is a filmmaker, and one of his latest projects has been making short inspirational films. He has people say a few things about who are they are, what they like, and so on, and then films them doing an activity they enjoy. Most recently he created some for two young girls in our church, and when he had finished, he approached me about composing and recording some music for the films. I thought it would be a good challenge, and so I took him up on the offer.
This past Sunday afternoon we spent a few hours at the church recording the music. For our first try, I think it turned out pretty well. The church is not equipped with state of the art recording equipment, but we were able to lay down a few tracks with the various instruments and then Eric was able to mix what we recorded. For the first film we used piano, drums, a synth, and a bass guitar. The second uses a guitar, djembe, and some human instrumentation in the form of whistling and clapping.
I'm pretty impressed with the finished product. Eric is very, very good at what he does, and I'm grateful for the opportunity he gave me to write some music. And it was a lot of fun recording it all. So, without further ado, here are the films.
UPDATE:Eric also filmed us as we were recording one of the songs. Here's the video of our little recording session.
It always baffles me that church attendance rises so significantly around special holidays, like Christmas. It also confuses me that so many recording artists produce Christmas albums during their career.
I have always believed, in regards to the church's worship music, that the congregation confesses what it sings. In my role as the worship director at our church, this awareness has only heightened, and I have found myself to be especially conscious of what we are singing during this Advent and Christmas season.
And herein lies my confusion about the seasonal churchgoers and musicians – they obviously pay no attention to the words they are singing during Christmas.
There are, of course, many great hymns that proclaim the wonderful truths of the Christian faith, but I find that our Advent and Christmas hymns make those declarations in an especially poignant way. And this is why it is perhaps ironic that so many outside of the church readily sing these songs, often with exuberance. Are they aware of what they say when they sing the third verse of 'Hark! The Herald Angels Sing':
Hail the heav'n-born Prince of Peace! Hail the Sun of Righteousness! Light and life to all He brings, Ris'n with healing in His wings. Mild He lays His glory by, Born that man no more may die, Born to raise the sons of earth, Born to give them second birth.
Many of these songs are joyful expressions of the wonder of the incarnation. Other songs boldly present a challenge to those who have not confessed Christ as Lord, and demand a response. Consider this verse, from 'Joy to the World':
He rules the world with truth and grace, And makes the nations prove The glories of His righteousness, And wonders of His love.
The first verse of 'O Holy Night', as I pointed out in an earlier post, calls us to join in the world's 'thrill of hope' at the Saviour's coming, and to 'Fall on your knees!' in response. The text of another hymn, 'O Come, All Ye Faithful', triumphantly proclaims,
Yea, Lord, we greet Thee, Born this happy morning, Jesus, to Thee be all glory giv'n!
Back in November, Al Wolters wrote an excellent article for the online version of Comment magazine, making a similar point about the 'Hallelujah Chorus' in Handel'sMessiah. He notes that despite the overtly religious theme – that Jesus Christ is the Messiah and that his Kingdom rules over all the earth – people in our culture still stand up when the choir sings the majestic chorus. What makes this especially interesting is the juxtaposition of the confession of Christ as Lord, ruling over all the earth, with Psalm 2, which is sung prior to the chorus. Wolters observes,
The meaning is unmistakable. The nations at large conspire against the Lord and against his Anointed, and plan to cast off all restraints that he has imposed on them. But God will only laugh at their defiance, and he (now addressed in the second person) will crush their rebellion and smash them like a piece of pottery. Then the "Hallelujah," with its celebration of the universal triumph of God in Jesus Christ, is sung. And audiences across several continents get to their feet in symbolic endorsement.
What do we make of this? It may be surprising that people who don't consider themselves Christians continue to sing these songs (or even celebrate Christmas, for that matter), but old cultural mores die hard, and that these songs remain so widely known owes to the vestiges of a culture in which Christianity once had a more prominent place. Nonetheless, how can so many people sing the words of these songs and not be taken aback by the startling claims they make? One reason, I think, would be their familiarity. Repetition serves as an aid to remembering something and implanting it in our mind, but too much repetition can sometimes dull the effect of the thing to be remembered. We hear these songs played over and over again at this time of year, and it may just be that the oft-repeated choruses no longer hit us with the full force of their declarations. Related to this, the power of the message of the church's Advent and Christmas hymns is diluted further when mixed in with the many trivial and meaningless seasonal songs that have been produced over the years, or songs as patently ridiculous as 'Here Comes Santa Claus.'
More importantly, however, those singing these songs during this season will likely not be in a place where the songs are accompanied by a faithful proclamation of the gospel, underscoring and giving further emphasis to the powerful truths the hymn-writers penned. The unfortunate reality is that many of the churches that see a swelling of attendance during the holidays are no longer known for their orthodoxy, and so the bold hymns of Christmas just become happy carols to sing by candlelight on Christmas Eve.
All that being said, it really is quite significant that even in our day people will repeatedly hear songs proclaiming that Jesus is Lord broadcast over the airwaves or in their neighbourhoods or in churches all across our towns and cities during this season. Let us hope and pray that as they hear and sing these songs and find themselves confronted with the truth of the gospel, that they would be captivated by the wonder and the promise of the incarnation, and fall on their knees in worship before the Lord of heaven and earth.
Worship is not something I frequently address on this blog, but I do think about it a lot, especially since I am involved in the worship at my local church by playing the piano nearly every Sunday. Doing so has given me occasion to think a great deal more about worship and brought me to a much greater awareness of what is happening when we worship (or at least what should happen).
Helpful in this regard has been the Calvin Institute of Christian Worship. They do a lot of great stuff up there in Grand Rapids, Michigan – according to their mission statement, they exist 'to promote the scholarly study of the theology, history, and practice of Christian worship and the renewal of worship in worshiping communities,' and their website contains a lot of helpful resources for that purpose.
One of the ways they help is by publishing books. The other day I came across a book belonging to their Liturgical Studies Series called A New Song for an Old World: Musical Thought in the Early Church, a study of the perspectives on worship music in the New Testament and in the thought of the early Church Fathers, written by Calvin R. Stapert. While I was intrigued by the whole book, something especially caught my eye in the epilogue regarding the mood and feeling of our worship.
Contemporary worship music, exemplified by the music coming from (but certainly not limited to) the likes of Chris Tomlin or Hillsong, does upbeat music, energetic music, and sometimes more contemplative music. But Stapert observes that there is one element that is almost entirely absent from this contemporary music:
Few will quarrel with the idea that the song of the church should be joyful. Indeed, that idea may be too readily and superficially embraced. Our problem is that the darker countermelody ('ashes and tears') is so severly muted, even silenced, that the joy expressed is empty and trivial – merely 'upbeat' without being truly joyful. Too many Christians wish to have Christmas without Advent, Easter without Lent, trumpets without tears and ashes, a crown without a cross. Too many are eager to give an affirmative answer to George Herbert's question:
Shall I then sing, skipping thy doleful story, And side with thy triumphal glory?
In the past year I have become much more aware of what Stapert is talking about here. For instance, I noticed at the end of last year that when the Advent season came around, we sang almost no Advent hymns. For some reason, you just don't find Advent hymns in the repertoire of contemporary worship. They dive right into Christmas. It just felt wrong to be singing Christmas hymns already four weeks before Christmas day. Where is the sense of longing, of anticipation? We sang 'O Come, O Come Emmanuel' a few times, but we don't know how to resonate with the desperate longing the lyrics of that song convey when in the next song we're sing, 'Glory to the newborn King.' Our culture of instant gratification has worked it's way into contemporary worship's seasonal music – we want Jesus now.
But it's not just longing, or the 'ashes and tears' that Stapert speaks of, that no longer have a place in our worship. A couple of years ago I had a professor ask if we had ever heard a song based on Psalm 44 or a sermon preached on the passage. Nobody had. It's not difficult to see why – we simply don't know how to fit something like Psalm 44 into our worship. We can't conceive of the idea that worship can involve anger or doubt or questioning. And it's not just Psalm 44 – a lot of modern Christians wouldn't know how to fit large portions of the Psalter into their worship because the Psalms convey a great deal more than just expressions of joy.
Why have we turned our worship into an expression of just one feeling or emotion? Odd as it may sound, given the energy and enthusiasm of a lot of modern worship music, this eventually becomes monotonous and even tedious. More than that, however, it is confusing. Stapert is right to call the 'ashes and tears' a countermelody, because without this, you cannot understand joy. Praise is good. Joy is good. But how do we inhabit that praise and that joy if we don't understand them in contrast to their counterparts?
The fact is that we have become desensitised, and we simply don't know how to feel anymore.
Stapert goes on to discuss the reason for our inability to express different emotions in worship, but I will return to that in the next post. In anticipation of that, let me turn it over to you. Why do you think worship has become focused on just one aspect or feeling, and why do you think we've forgotten that worship involves all kinds of expressions, like the various Psalm writers convey?
and I have found myself to be especially conscious of what we are singing during this Advent and Christmas season.
