- Quentin Crisp once said, "A lifetime of listening to disco music is a high price to pay for one's sexual preference." I'm not saved and don't think I ever will be, but if such a miracle were to take place, I can't imagine anything worse than being forced to pay for my salvation by listening to worship music for the rest of my days.
Worship music is the logical conclusion of Christian adult contemporary music -- not just unappealing but unbearable to anyone not already in the fold. Every song follows the same parameters. It opens gently with tinkling arpeggios or synthesized harp glissandos that portend the imminence of something celestial in glacial 4/4 time. In the second verse, the band -- invariably excellent players -- soft-pedals in, gaining in volume to the bridge. And then the chorus. Heavens, the choruses. They could put U2 out of business for good, they're so huge. Another verse. A middle eight. Then, a breakdown when the audience takes over singing. Another massive chorus. Fin.
This isn't music to appreciate; it's music to experience. People at a worship service close their eyes and, as ecstasy spreads across their faces, begin to rock rhythmically, arms out, mouthing the lyrics. It's more than a little sexual and a tad uncomfortable if you're sitting next to an attractive person who's been overcome by the Spirit.
Worship tunes tend to evince an adolescent theology, one that just can't get over how darn cool it is that Jesus sacrificed himself for the world. "Our God is an awesome God." "O Lord, you are glorious." "How can it be/That you, a king, would die for me?" Moreover, it's self-centered in a way that reflects evangelicalism's near-obsession with having a personal relationship with Christ. It's me Jesus died for. I just gotta praise the Lord.
Not for nothing is "Amazing Grace," which marvels at the author's salvation, one of the few traditional hymns to be regularly included in modern worship services. Absent is any hint of community found in hymns such as "The Church Is One Foundation" -- the Jesus of worship music is a mentor, a buddy, a friend whose message is easily distilled to a simple command: praise me. Not "feed the poor, clothe the naked, visit the prisoner." Simply thank Him for His gift to you (and make sure to display copyright information at the bottom of the screen so royalties can be disbursed).
This particular passage fascinated me because, like many things within the "church," I've been around worship music my entire life and I would have trouble looking at it from an unbiased, inexperienced point of view. I understand that we can't expect someone who doesn't know Christ to understand how or why we worship -- I get that.
But at the same time, do we ever truly step back and look at how or why we worship? Why is so much of the music the same? Why is it the way that it is? Why are the lyrics the way they are? Have we settled for bland mediocrity in our worship music, just because that's the standard, the base, that we understand? What about his points about the lyrics pointing to evangelicals being self-centered in their faith?
At the very least, it's interesting to acknowledge the point of view of people outside the church. This is far from the first time I've heard from people who absolutely abhor worship music. This isn't a critique of God or Jesus, this is a critique of a certain part of Christian culture.
I think his entire argument -- and especially those last two paragraphs -- are worthy of discussion.