Music is a big part of who we are as a race, as a people, and as a creation. Not just in our churches but across our nation, we’ve made it into a spectator experience where we use it as a cocoon to keep everyone and everything else else at bay, rather than as a communal one where everyone joins in together.

Alas, the worship leader at the church we attend favors the contemporary approach, where anything more than two years old is jettisoned as irrelevant and outdated, including the rich history of Christian hymnody. In its place we have loud drums, pounding bass, and overwhelming guitars. If I join in this kind of worship, I get a headache before halfway through the first set.

I thought this, especially, was true:

“It’s about the condition of the human heart and how people need to be led to lay down their egos and offer themselves as a living sacrifice. That’s hard, vulnerable, sometimes humiliating work. It’s easier to entertain because then we all get to keep our egos.”

I’m also sick of contemporary entertainment worship, and I’ve been seriously thinking of going Lutheran or Episcopalian or something with more reverence and awe about approaching God in the sanctuary. Even a kid gets sick of Disney World at some point.

I’m a pastor of 14 years in a denomination that is known all over the world for innovating in the field of worship music. That is our heritage.

I am completely bored with the big show on Sunday morning; have been for 10 years. I think it’s shallow and flat, and I only see the mediation of genuine experience getting worse with the growth of video-venues.

Having said that, it seems lots of folks here want to blame the loss of congregational singing on shallow pop-sings and amplified music, but let’s be honest: that loss occurred long before amplifiers-in-church and CCM. Archaic hymns simply weren’t connecting with emerging generations in the 60’s. The truth is hymns connect even less with emerging unchurched generations now. They may learn to appreciate them (as I have), but it takes time to integrate meaningfully into a new context.

It also seems lots of folks here think the solution involves raising the bar for “good songs” or “good worship leaders,” but that sort of subjective elitism will only lead to more of the professional vs. amateur class divisions that already characterize much of Western Christianity. It can’t be more grass-roots AND more “excellent” at the same time – unless we effectively redefine one of those terms.

There’s nothing inherently virtuous about being able to sing across a broad vocal range. There’s nothing inherently virtuous about songs written in the 18th century.

To one of the post-ers here: “worship evangelism” refers to the idea that unbelievers might walk into an enthusiastic worship environment and be moved to belief by the presence and power of God embodied in the congregational praise. I’ve seen it happen many, many times and always, incidentally, in a contemporary-song setting.

In fact, I’ve worshipped in many different denominational settings, big and small, and by far the most participatory, passionate, powerful congregational singing was in settings that utilized contemporary, first-person songs sung to God.

I agree that many old hymns are theologically rich compared to many new worship songs, but we tend to compare the best of the former with the worst of the latter and pat ourselves on the back for being theologically astute.

Moreover, in my observation many regular folks in church simply feel that hymns are theologically richer for strictly aesthetic reasons. Archaic language tends to seem smarter because it’s less accessible – when in fact it’s just archaic. Lots of people think the King James Bible is theologically richer for the exact same reason.

There are contemporary songwriters who are making an intentional effort to write theologically rich songs. Newer Matt Redman songs practically reek of N.T. Wright terminology (which may or may not be a pleasant smell to you). It’s too easy to paint with a broad brush, and we should all be more careful about our generalized finger-pointing.

From a leadership perspective, there’s a very real temptation to abdicate participatory worship in favor of entertainment. We would never call it that, and we will always rationalize it, but let’s be honest: the fastest and most reliable way to grow a church is to put on a good show on Sunday. Moreover, one can entertain with hymns, and one can worship with CCM songs.

On a practical level, I think the problem of congregational participation boils down to the unwillingness of leaders to tell people what to do (ahem, “provide instruction”). In this respect Michael makes a good point IMHO about “teaching the congregation to sing,” and the person who posted John Wesley’s instructions provides us with a stellar example (thank you, BTW!).

For example, I was recently at our denomination’s regional pastor’s conference. For 2 straight days I watched as different bands took the stage morning, noon, and night…and very few people sang. We watched, we tapped our feet, and we clapped politely after every song. And these were the PASTORS. Then, on the last night, a well-known worship leader took the stage and did something radically different: he LED us. He told us what to do, coached us between choruses, and exhorted us when we seemed apathetic until the place came alive. There is a general squeamishness today among leaders about being too directive. “Good morning! Here at church XYZ we believe you’re free to worship any way you like. Just do whatever feels comfortable.” Well, that’s a cop-out. It’s bad leadership and it isn’t even remotely theologically true.

It’s not about the songs, the style, the instruments, the amplification, or even the loss of connectedness to our past (although I think traditional continuity can be a very good thing). It’s about the condition of the human heart and how people need to be led to lay down their egos and offer themselves as a living sacrifice. That’s hard, vulnerable, sometimes humiliating work. It’s easier to entertain because then we all get to keep our egos.

Personally, I like the idea of a-cappella singing. But recently I was whining to a Church of Christ friend about being bored with shallow, contemporary, soft-rock worship, and she said, “Wow, “soft-rock worship.” That sounds awesome!” She’s bored with her tradition, I’m bored with mine; for each of us real the problem isn’t the music or the lyrics – it’s us.

As well as many other examples of singing in Acts, other epistles (I Cor) and Revelation.

I am NOT saying that churches that don’t sing aren’t Christians. I am saying that the language in Ephesians and Colossians is imperative, not descriptive.

“In your heart” is not restrictive, but descriptive of how to sing, not where.

I also realize that Quakers are the perfect Protestants and have removed ALL externals of this sort, and I respect that understanding, though most of Christianity obviously disagrees.

I’m part of a Friends (Quaker) Meeting. We don’t sing. I’ve heard there is some singing at the various yearly gatherings, but I haven’t gone to any of them yet. I also freely admit that music/singing is probably the thing I miss most about going to a more traditional church.