Some Choruses, a Pep-talk, and an Offering Series (about worship)

Theologians call the gathering of the church in heaven “triumphant” and the gathering of the church on earth “militant”—the label indicating her state; the congregation in heaven rests, the congregation on earth works. The division is descriptive but it can also confuse; leading some to think that our earthly worship is distinct, even separate from the worship of heaven. But there is only one church and when we worship down here, we really are joining a worship service already in progress up there.

Let’s develop this further. Jonathan Edwards said long ago: “Let it be considered that the church on earth is the same society with those saints who are praising God in heaven. There is not one church of Christ in heaven and another here upon earth.”¹ There is only one but the congregation in heaven started its service long before; the angels beginning to worship and sing when the “Call to Worship” went forth the first day of creation. The heavenly congregation grows each time God transfers a saint’s membership from here to there. But we must not forget; it is our Sunday morning worship that joins theirs.

This isn’t some esoteric conversation. It has implications. The congregation meeting around the Throne has in attendance the patriarchs, prophets, saints, and angels. They see God face to face. When a few highly favored from earth’s congregation viewed heavens, as Isaiah (Isaiah 6) and John (Revelation 1) did, they collapse as though dead. There must be some pretty reverent worshiping going on in heaven’s church—and it’s been going on for some time.

Why then the need for this generation of believers to be so driven to change or contemporize worship down here? Shouldn’t change start at the top—literally? There is so little appreciation or attachment to the past. The World War II generation is called the “greatest generation”; we come across as thinking we are the “smartest and most spiritually mature generation.” We’ve become the worship leader and not the worship follower; and when it comes to worship, following is better. We are to follow the Bible and it generally is a good idea to follow the church and the saints who preceded us; diverting course only with biblical warrant.

When I began writing on this topic last October, I had envisioned a three or four-part post—certainly not twenty. Toes have been stepped on but not on purpose. It’s just that change seems to be the church’s new default mode—a lot of “That’s sounds great, let’s try it this Sunday” going on whereas biblical wisdom and discernment says otherwise.

We have been given worship instructions—instructions followed for centuries. But for the past generation, new ones are being written every few years. Where is it headed? I wonder if at some point the church will have its “Ezra moment”—Nehemiah 8 and 9 reporting that after hearing God’s Word, God’s people weep and confessed their failure to worship God as He had instructed (9:3). Afterward, they went back to the basics. Is it time for us to do the same?

Word and Sacrament ministry isn’t flashy or edgy, but it is weighty and substantive; and most importantly, it is prescribed. In an age where pop culture has invaded the church, its fingerprints all over Sunday morning’s “choruses, pep-talk, and offering”; isn’t it time to take a prayerful step back and ask again the most fundamental question: “How does God want to be worshiped?”

Who’s changed? Not God. The word used to describe His attribute is immutability. It is why God is often compared to a rock: “He is the Rock…” sang Moses in Deuteronomy 32:4. If we miss Moses’ lyric and metaphor, God declares of Himself: “I the Lord do not change” (Malachi 3:6). If you want some New Testament, James 1:17 will do: “[God] does not change like shifting shadows.” So if He hasn’t changed, at the very least, shouldn’t the caution sign be up anytime we think its time for Sunday morning to evolve some more?

Within one generation, there has been more change then there was in the previous ten. Why is that? Here are some possible reasons behind all the new ideas and changes:

1. In 1988, church growth guru George Barna said: “The audience, not the message, is sovereign.” In his book, “Marketing the Church”, Barna explains: “Our message has to be adapted to the needs of the audience.” And off the church went “adapting”—polling the pews and even the unreached and unconverted in neighborhoods asking them what they wanted. Ergo! Sunday morning started to change.
2. We have become a very casual culture. Lot’s of men don’t own a suit anymore. It is not uncommon to attend a wedding or funeral and see Levi’s. Visit the cubicles of a high-tech company and you find a lot of people in shorts and flip-flops; their dog may even be at their feet. No “fashion policing” going on here but the formal has given way to the casual. Sunday morning capitulated and reflected the new norm. The pulpit was tossed for the podium; the pew for the theater seat; the formal musical accompaniment for the informal; and so on and so on. There has been a growing move from the sacred to the comfortable—henceforth the change.
3. The belief that Sunday morning is more about evangelism and less about “Word and sacrament”. The church seems to be in a constant state of flux, trying to come up with more and more creative ways to reach the lost on Sunday mornings. The altar has become a stage; the preached Word a video clip. The “worship committee” keeps advocating changes they heard about another church trying, and on and on it goes. When God isn’t sovereign regarding salvation, man starts thinking too much “outside the box” and pretty soon Sunday morning worship can look pretty bizarre.
4. But this might be the most troubling reason behind all the changes—the belief that we are smarter and more spiritually in-tune than the saints who preceded us. Is the question ever asked: “How come Augustine, Luther, Calvin, Edwards, Spurgeon, and Lloyd-Jones didn’t do that?” May it not be assumed they would have if we were on their church staff throwing out new worship ideas!

You see, there are reasons Sunday morning worship did not change much through the centuries and reasons why today it has. For the sake of our Immutable God, let’s slow down a bit.

“We need to get back to the first century church.” How many times have you heard that? Their point being that the 21^st century church has lost its purity, focus, and way. What is interesting is that many who say this are the very ones pressing for a progressive and ever-evolving Sunday morning worship. In other words, the ones wanting us to look back and emulate are the very ones wanting us to press forward in ways of worship the church has never worshiped before. It seems to be a contradiction; they want the “old ways” but they are creating “new ways” instead.

It is safe to say that Sunday morning worship has changed more in the last forty years then it has the previous four-hundred. Worship practice, not denomination or theological distinctive, links or separates churches. In other words, fifty years ago, the First Lutheran or Presbyterian or Methodist Church in town worshiped like their Second, Third, and Fourth denominational namesake. That can longer be said. First Lutheran on Sunday mornings is just as likely to resemble First Assembly of God more than Second Lutheran across town. What a church believed used to determine their worship (liturgical form); it appears to matter far less now. Perhaps someone is saying “so what”; but it shows what we believe about God has been trumped by a worship style instead.

Here would be an interesting experiment: Blindfold “Dick and Jane Worshiper” and drop them into a church somewhere in town. When its over, keep them blindfolded and take them to another. Here is the hypothesis: Dick and Jane won’t be able to tell you the church they were in. They won’t be able to identify the theological differences between Church “A” and Church “B”. On paper, these two churches’ “Statements of Faith” are quite different; but because worship practice has become so congruent, they may ask, “Did you just spin us around and take us to the same church?” Dick and Jane won’t be able to tell you the name on the outside because on the inside, many churches look and sound alike.

What has driven so much worship change over the last generation? And why have so many churches settled on such a similar style and format of worship that so easily crosses denominational and theological lines? That’s for next time in a series critiquing worship where much of it can be characterized by the less-then-complimentary phrase: “Some Choruses, a Pep-talk, and an Offering.”

We spoke of the “three marks” last time. It is time to comment on the disappearance of the third and why such a discussion belongs in a series on worship. The third mark the 16^th century reformers used to distinguish the true from the false church was the practice of church discipline; the true church practices church discipline, the false one does not.

What is meant by church discipline? In short, it is pastoral shepherding that loves the sheep (and the goats) within the flock enough to confront un-confessed sin. The unbeliever’s chief sin is his unbelief; the believer’s is particular sin he holds to with clenched fist. Zeal for God’s glory as well as love for the sinner motivates the confrontation.

Generally speaking; when confronted, sheep confess and goats do not. The church, desirous of being what its name means (God’s “called out ones”), understands that it must discipline. After all, as the Apostle Peter says: “You are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of Him Who called you out of darkness into His wonderful light” (1 Peter 2:9).

Why so little of it then, today? There are multiple reasons; some of them being it’s hard, not fun, and can be messy, too. But Sunday morning has also created a dynamic that makes it difficult—the worship as well as the relationship with the church has become so casual. “I came, I worshiped, and I leave to live my life.” As easy as it was to come to church (even join it); the same ease is enjoyed when leaving it.

The church as a “buffet line” developed to attract worshiper’s, but has sadly become the means to insulate them instead. That probably needs some explanation. The church template of today is to come and “take what you want”; as the consumer, the parishioner decides based on his needs and his family’s and the church’s ability (generally through its programs) to meet them. And when those needs change or the church no longer satisfies those needs, he simply moves on.

He may find another church right away but generally does so only when his “needs” demand it; or maybe he just moves in with his girlfriend and enjoys that for awhile, instead. He probably doesn’t get a call from one of the pastors or elders because people entering the front door replace people leaving the back door all the time. Because of the church’s size, many times, those in charge of shepherding don’t even know the name of the guy who just left. And he leaves thinking it is no big deal; but it is a big deal.

This gets us back to the discussion of the third mark of the church. Writing on the subject, Mark Dever comments: “Trying to lead a church without discipline is just as unworkable as trying to parent children without correcting them. An undisciplined church confuses sinners, discourages saints, and dishonors God.”

Nobody wants to do that but that’s what happens. Dever continues: “For our own sake as well as for the sake of others, for our churches’ and for God’s own name’s sake, let us not disregard God’s clear commands to discipline His Church” (Modern Reformation, July/August 2002, p. 51).

Here is a pastor’s fear: That someone sits in a pew and believes that by doing so all is now well between God and him. His life says otherwise yet no one from the church says so. He flits in and out of church, living life as he pleases; before one day finding himself before God. And as he is hauled to the left with the rest of the goats, if permitted to speak, he turns and says to his observing pastor: “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” And that pastor won’t have a good answer in reply.

Do we need to revisit church discipline? This series has attempted to persuade that there are several things we need to revisit about Sunday morning.

They called it the “marks of the church.” As a result of the 16^th century Reformation, the Roman Catholic Church no longer was the only church in town. Questions arose: “What’s a true church?” “How do you recognize one?” “What’s the difference between a true church and a false one?” These were very good questions and they demanded answering. And the reformers responded succinctly and well. The true church, they said, (1) preaches God’s Word, (2) properly administrates the sacraments (baptism and the Lord’s Supper), and (3) practices church discipline. How many churches today fail their test?

In this series, we’ve commented on the first mark, now let’s address the second. Let’s begin by asking where has the Lord’s Supper gone? Once a month is a common practice (I have even heard of once a quarter); so is sequestering it to an occasional evening service. Something is mumbled about “Doing Communion too often will make it less special.” Really? If that same kind of logic was used to monitor other Sunday morning worship practices, we shouldn’t preach and sing every week, either? We better stop our daily devotions and prayer, too.

But I suspect there are other reasons working against Communion. The first is the wrong-headed notion that Sunday morning worship is mostly about evangelism. “After all, we don’t want seekers to feel left out when we commune with our Lord.” The second is time. For many, the worship service would become too long and the thought of “stealing some minutes from the singing time” would be unacceptable. Music, remember, has become the new sacrament (see Part 10).

The third is perhaps the biggest reason, however; the Lord’s Supper is no longer viewed as all that significant. If there is any of that going on, we better get back to the Upper Room. “This is My body given for you; do this in remembrance of Me” (Luke 22:19), Jesus said. So we “look back” at the Table; and we need to. It is here we are reminded with our eyes and taste with our mouths that “I really am forgiven because of what He has done for me.”

And equally important at the Table, we “look ahead.” We look ahead to the day when we will be ushered to our reserved seat at the table of the “marriage supper of the Lamb” (Revelation 19:7-9)—the meal we one day will enjoy with our Lord and Savior in heaven. So at Communion, we look back and remember how and why we are His now; and at Communion we look ahead with great hope that we shall be forever.

That said; weekly Communion sounds really good. In an age of “Some Choruses, a Pep-talk, and an Offering,” we not only need to think more about what we are doing in our worship; we also need to think more about what we are leaving out.

We’ve been tiptoeing through the mine-field of Sunday morning worship and music. Have I stepped on any mines yet? I’m sure I have. But this is a discussion the church needs to have. “Cultural creep” is incessant and subtle; and when it comes to the most holy of all earthly exercises—the worship of the One Who is the “blessed and only Ruler, the King of kings and Lord of lords, Who alone is immortal and Who lives in unapproachable light” (1 Timothy 6:15-16)—we have to be vigilant.

Regarding music, a case has been made for Psalm singing and for hymns (Part 13 and 14). Generally speaking, however, Psalms and hymns have gone the way of albums, eight-tracks, and cassettes; a phase-out to something newer. And the “newer” is the phenomena known as the “praise song.”

The “Jesus-people” of the 60’s and 70’s are probably most responsible. With new-found sobriety, old-friend guitar, and a saving faith in Jesus; they went to work writing songs of love and devotion to the One Who saved them. They were kind of anti-establishment, anyway, so doing something musically different in worship was no stretch at all. Before long, a genre was born (praise songs/choruses) and so was an industry (Contemporary Christian Music).

Psalms were penned by Holy Spirit inspired men. Hymns (generally speaking) were penned by older theologians and pastors. Choruses (generally speaking) were being penned by younger musicians. “BOOM!” some are saying right now, “He just stepped on another mine.” Maybe, but I stand by it. Psalms aside, I’m speaking generally and there are plenty of exceptions, I know, concerning the age and vocation of hymn and chorus composers.

But grant the generalization for it is illustrative of our situation. The Psalms are always safe to sing—for God wrote them. Hymns and choruses, on the other hand, need to be evaluated and screened biblically for content and appropriateness. Watts and Newton and Toplady and the Wesley boys’ hymns have got that “psalm paraphrase model” going for them (see Part 14) and bleed Bible and awe; Fanny Crosby, not always so, poetic sentimentalism sometimes gets the best of her. So we must evaluate all the hymns we sing. Is there biblical content? Is it theologically correct? And so on.

And if we must do so with the hymns, all the more reason to do so with the choruses. How many of us actually have sung “Kumbaya” in church or swayed to “Alleluia” over and over again?—too many. To the credit of the chorus industry, there seems to be a movement away from the simply-stated verse with the word “repeat” at the end. Substantive music is starting to be more of the norm.

There is no reason the “new song” (Psalm 33:3; 40:3; 144:9; 149:1) we are instructed to sing and modeled in Revelation 4 and 5 cannot be composed and sung today. But let’s rigorously evaluate them for what they say and their appropriateness for worship.

After quoting Hebrews 12:28-29 (“…worship God acceptably with reverence and awe, for our ‘God is a consuming fire.’”), Doug Wilson writes: “Let those words, reverence and awe, roll around in the mind and heart while singing “Spring Up O Well,” with all the splish-splashy hand motions. The difficulty is not the music, but the incongruity of the music and what the Bible says the occasion of formal worship should be like. The music itself, that song itself, would be perfectly fine at a birthday party for someone’s kindergarten class. In the worship of the God of Abraham, it is a wretched insult.”

And that is the impetus of this series; that in an age of “Some Choruses, a Pep-talk, and an Offering,” there seems to be little evaluation going on at all.

We need to sing psalms in worship (see previous blog, “Multi-versed for a Reason,” part 13). Some have even concluded that is all the people of God should sing on Sunday morning; our hymnal restricted to the 150 Psalms. A very strong case can be made, however, that the Bible does not limit us to the Psalter.

It may be as easy as citing Ephesians 5:19 or Colossians 3:16; where we are instructed to sing “psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs”. Some scholars believe those words to be synonyms that reference three kinds of psalms; but psalms none the less. So let’s grant them that and look elsewhere to substantiate that we are not limited to the Psalter on Sunday morning.

There are several times in the Psalms we are directed to sing a “new song” (33:3; 40:3; 144:9; 149:1) to the Lord. When the Apostle John is given a glimpse of heaven and its worship in the book of Revelation, he records what he hears being sung to Jesus. Interestingly, he says they were singing a “new song” (Revelation 5:9). He then reports the lyrics in vv. 9-10: “You are worthy to take the scroll and to open its seals, because You were slain, and with Your blood You purchased men for God from every tribe and language and people and nation. You have made them to be a kingdom and priests to serve our God, and they will reign on the earth.”

What this “new song” acknowledges is Christ’s redemptive work. For sure, there are many prophetic verses in the Psalms; but this side of the cross, we get to join the heavenly host in singing songs celebrating that Jesus fulfilled them. The Old Testament (Psalms included) pointed to Jesus; it certainly makes sense that New Testament believers would now sing of the One they pointed to. That is what John heard the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders doing in Revelation 5.

And this was the understanding of early hymn writers; they wrote Christological “new songs” based on the Psalms—calling them “psalm paraphrases.” Isaac Watts said he wanted to “Christianize” the psalms when he paraphrased them into hymns. Watts even took the liberty in most of his psalm paraphrases (hymns) to reference Jesus by name.

Martin Luther looked to the Psalms but also the other books of the Bible for his hymn-writing inspiration; declaring his composing goal was to put the “Word of God into song.” J.S. Bach agreed and it is why he has been called the “fifth Evangelist”; receiving that label because he employed so much Scripture from Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John in his music.

So biblically and doctrinally rich hymns, modeled after the psalms, is something the church has sung for centuries. Philippians 2:6-11 suggests they already were singing them in the first century.

Further reason to include them on Sundays is that they are composed to be sung corporately; that is, they are typically written for high voices, low voices, and voices in between. I believe that is called harmony. Isn’t that easier for the congregation to sing than a song with a single melodic line taken off the radio originally written for solo performance—one with big swelling emotional crescendos? I like TobyMac but I sure can’t sing like him.

“But,” you ask, “Do ‘new songs’ have to be ‘dusty-old’ and only sung to tunes from the 16^th or the 17^th century; by definition, can’t a ‘new song’ be written today for corporate worship?” If that’s your question, we are going to talk about that next time when we continue our series on “Some Choruses, a Pep-talk, and an Offering.”

Is this fair? Most Sunday morning music sung today is catchy, entertaining, and likeable—a reflection of pop-culture. But generally speaking, it lacks content, depth, and musical complexity; it really is a Christianized version of pop-music. “So what?” someone may say. Well, does the Scripture tell us what to sing?

It is hard (impossible?) to argue that we shouldn’t be singing psalms. Psalm-singing is commanded as part of New Testament worship (Ephesians 5:19; Colossians 3:16). The actual language is to sing “psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs”. There is debate whether this is referencing three different kinds or types of songs. Some believe, however, they are just synonyms or interchangeable words for canonical psalms (the inspired 150 in our Bibles). No matter one’s take on those two texts, though, it is unarguable; we are commanded to sing, at the very least, some psalms.

Some get around this by saying: “We do. Most of the choruses we sing are taken directly from the Psalms.” This is probably true, but it generally is just a verse or two. Paul Jones comments: “It is insufficient to sing a chorus based on a psalm verse and ignore the reasons the psalm gives for worshiping God. Such reasons should be recalled…to be properly contextualized and purposeful.”

It’s like going to the local “Fork and Pork” buffet place; ignoring the salad and entrée lines and heading straight for the dessert. Most praise songs head for the “sugar”. “As the Deer” is a good example. Many of us have sung it for years. “As the deer panteth for the water, So my soul longeth after You”. That’s taken directly from Psalm 42:1. But if we stop there (as the chorus does), we neglect the reason behind that opening verse. For deeper in the psalm, we discover why the psalmist “panteth” and “longeth”: His “tears have been my food day and night” (verse 3); He “used to go with the multitude, leading the procession to the house of God” (verse 4)—implying he does not anymore; His “soul is downcast within me” (verse 6); He says “all Your [God’s] waves and breakers have swept over me” (verse 6).

In other words, the psalmist is not doing well—he’s really struggling. But it is that very point that makes his cry to God in verse 1 all the more impressive and instructive. “The psalmist goes to God,” we note to ourselves, “that’s what he does when his world is crashing in, maybe we should, too?” But you would never know he was struggling, if all you sing is the first verse, which in isolation gives the impression he is a spiritual “five-point buck” who just wants to spend more time with God. When in reality, though, his chest is heaving and his mouth is paste; for he fears God has “forgotten me” (verse 9).

The point being that the psalms are multi-versed for a reason. And we lose some of their weightiness when we pick and choose a verse here and there. Why not just sing the whole thing? Which gets back to the original point; we would do well to sing psalms on Sunday morning What about hymns? And are all choruses (praise songs) so simple and void of content they don’t belong? That’s our tease for next time.

The premise is that Sunday morning worship music should fit what we have gathered to do; to worship the King of kings and Lord of lords. So what kind of music does God like? Does He have a preference? Those two questions should be the kinds of questions we should be asking, don’t you think?

And He is a musical God, by the way, after all He sings (Zephaniah 3:17) and very early in biblical history He was gifting men to create music (Genesis 4:21). Not suggesting that we know whether God likes country over pop or that He winces at hip-hop; but we do know He likes whatever is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, and praiseworthy (Philippians 4:8). We also can glean His musical tastes from the Psalms—the Bible’s inspired song book.

What do we learn about worship music from the Psalms? On one end of the spectrum there are psalms of praise; at the other end there are psalms of lament—and in between these two extremes is a full range of emotion expressing man’s relationship with God. There always is a content or reason, however, expressed which lies behind the praise, or in the other case, the lament. In psalms of praise, God is lauded for His acts, His attributes, and His supremacy; and in psalms of lament, He is beseeched and pleaded to rescue and relieve us from distress. No matter the type of psalm, however, it is always one of content; that is, reasons are given to praise and reasons are given to lament.

And therein lays the critique and criticism of what passes off as worship music today—there is so little content to it. Many of the “praise songs” (as they are called) are in the form of a secular love song to Jesus; repetitious songs of so little content that if we strike the Son of God’s name from it and insert “Betty’s,” the song still makes sense. Betty might blush but God is not hallowed. They are often written from the feminine point of view, as well; Gene Vieth calling them “Jesus-is-my-boyfriend” songs. If the switching out of Jesus’ name now qualifies it to be on “Love Songs with Delilah”—we probably ought not to be singing it.

Here is another “content test” to consider: Can a Muslim or a Hindu or some cult sing this worship song to their deity? If they can, it probably doesn’t have enough content to warrant its use in Christian worship.

The point being that the One True God in Whom we worship is so worthy of our songs of praise and our cries of lament, they should be bursting and heavy laden with reasons why we do so. Not sure they always are, however, in an age where worship is too easily characterized as little more than “Some Choruses, a Pep-talk, and an Offering.”

I know it’s potentially divisive, but we need to keep talking about worship music. Similar to food and art, music has a certain subjective quality to it; especially when it comes to style. Somebody likes jazz, someone else likes rap—and so on. And it’s in the car where we most often reveal our musical taste. What music plays when we push your radio pre-sets?

But we are not in the car for Sunday morning worship. We are gathering with the people of God—a very diverse group; young and old, black and white, some with an MD after their name and some just hoping for a GED some day. What an eclectic display of music if we all hauled our CD’s into the sanctuary and gave everyone their turn.

So maybe we shouldn’t choose based on taste? How should we choose, then? How about choosing music that best fits what we are about to do?

When we go to Red Robin for a burger, we expect the music loud, fun, and hip. And it is. When we go to a dress-up place for a steak where someone parks our car, we are not surprised that a piano is playing somewhere in the background. In other words, the music fits the environment. It would be weird to hear Wolfgang Mozart at Denny’s; it would be just as weird to hear Wolfman Jack spinning his “rock-n-roll” at Ruth’s Chris.

So what music best fits the worship of God? By asking that question, we may still disagree here and there but at least we’ve probably narrowed the divide. After all, we want to hallow His name, don’t we? “Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us be thankful, and so worship God acceptably with reverence and awe, for our ‘God is a consuming fire’” (Hebrews 12:28-29).

But if the template continues to be a worship service designed for me; the music will continue to reflect personal taste and not necessarily what music is best suited for the worship of God. Worship services are even labeled “contemporary” or “traditional” based upon the music played and sung. In other words, “They play my music at nine; they play yours at eleven.” But when is God’s music played? Not sure in an age of “Some Choruses, a Pep-talk, and an Offering” that question is even being asked.