In the beginning God created…
These words echo through the green rooms of many worship musicians. Because we are created in God’s image, we too, are creative. This is not new. For centuries, our creatives serve the functions of the church.
Architects are the artisans that design physical structures that support our beliefs about congregational worship. Is the pulpit the center of the platform? Does the choir face the congregation? Does the organ fill the physical as well as auditory space? Is the organ hidden in a basement storage room? Do you place communion elements within reach of the common people, pass them out at the door in prepackaged containers like an elementary student’s “Lunchable,” or are they protected behind a barrier that only the priest can pass?
Aesthetically, stained glass windows bounce colored lights in multiple directions. As the sunlight passes through the course of the day, the ambiance of the room changes. Sonically, some of the greatest compositions of music history were composed by and for the church. Choirs and congregations sing the melody and harmony, created by master musicians, to serve as the vocal expression by and for the people.
Are we creative, of course. I don’t know who said it first, but it has been said that if we breathe, we create. How does our creative expression fit in the context of corporate worship? I can argue that there is a time for “Art for art’s sake.” Each artist has an opportunity and/or obligation to express worship through their favorite medium. However, in this context, I want to question, “How do we evaluate performance art in corporate worship?”
I was first introduced to this concept by Donald Hustad, in his book Jubilate!. It leads with the idea of intention. The foundation is that “form follows function.” In the design of our sanctuaries, the layout creates the space that we practice our beliefs. If your belief is in the primacy of the spoken word, the pulpit takes center stage. The form of expression supports the function of expression.
For an illiterate society, stained glass windows were not simply created for colorful light play on the walls. Their function was to retell the gospel narrative to each generation. Today, these artists continue to embed story in color and serve the congregation by functioning as a storyteller.
Of course, our musical expression seems like the easiest expression for worship. We play, we sing, “we proclaim the excellencies of Him who has called ‘us’ out of darkness into his marvelous light.” (1 Peter 2:9) How do we evaluate the musical expression of corporate worship? The question can also be asked this way. How does the form of our musical expression (performance art) serve the function of congregational worship?
Reflecting on the model I have shared, the continuum between theological orthodoxy and culturally intentional is one starting place. Our musical expression needs to teach Biblical truths. For many typical church goers, the only practical theology they will remember are the words they sing. Our balance of songs “to God, about God, and about our experience with God” becomes more important. Not just once, but twice Paul instructs us to sing “psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs” These are expressions of content, not musical form. The form of the text, serves the function of the text, “Teaching and encouraging one another.”
Musical expression also takes the form of our intentions. Many of the greatest works of music history are captured in church history. If the intention is to maintain a connection to those who have gone before us, the form of worship may take a more traditional, liturgical approach. If the intention of the service is to be culturally missional, then the musical expression may cater to sounds, chord structures, and songs that are familiar to the “target audience.” In a third approach, if the intention is to provide a corporate experience of worship, focused on a creative, redemptive, Heavenly Father, then the aesthetics of the room will serve that purpose. The form of musical expression serves the intended function of our desired outcomes.
This “form follows function” mindset can help us evaluate several components. Do the surprising structures of jazz harmony make it easier or harder for a congregation to sing? Does the driving 16th note pattern of a double kick drum support the text of “Create in me a clean heart oh God, and renew a right spirit within me?” Would that same double kick pattern support a “Jericho March?”
A point of contention in churches is often volume. It is primarily a cultural component of musical expression. Our preferred cultural familiarity will set our expectations. If we ask, “How does the volume of the sound system support our intention?” We will likely have equally diverse answers. Since this issue is particularly challenging, perhaps a different way to approach the question is at what point does our volume stop supporting the intention of congregational participation? If people leave the room or plug their ears, is that because they don’t want to worship? Or is it because the volume no longer serves the intended function? Some pastors have said they want the volume loud enough to drown out the individual voice…there is no need to be embarrassed by our own singing. I would ask, “Does that build a sense of community or isolation?”
A process of ministry requires some reflection on what is working well and what we can refine. Do our song choices support our goals? Does our musical expression create a platform for people to participate? Is it so “artistically expressive” (overplayed) that it distracts the congregation? Are there issues about our physical space, aesthetic space, or our auditory space that we can improve upon? Does the form of our worship space, serve the function of our worship?