The Worship Industry is "Killing Worship"?

Self-described post-evangelical (and Methodist worship pastor) Jonathan Aigner wrote on Patheos recently on “8 Reasons the Worship Industry Is Killing Worship”. I both resonated and disagreed with enough of his post that I figure it’s worth a short response.

Aigner’s eight points, with my thoughts interspersed:

1. It’s [sic] sole purpose is to make us feel something.

Aigner says that the worship industry “must engage us on a purely sensory level to find widespread appeal…”

I’ll agree with Aigner here on the overall concept and disagree with him on the breadth of his statements. Does the worship industry rely too heavily on the sensory level to get us engaged? Probably, yeah. But is it affecting us “purely on an emotional level”, as he claims? I won’t go that far.

2. The industry hijacks worship.

“When the mind is disengaged and worship is reduced to an emotional experience,”, says Aigner, “worship descends into narcissistic and self-referential meaninglessness.” This point relies on your accepting his point #1, so given that I’ve only partially granted it, I’m on the fence here, too. When worship music completely disengages the brain and works solely on emotion, I’d agree that it becomes fairly meaningless. But I don’t think that’s happening quite as broadly as he asserts.

3. It says that music IS worship.

Now we’re finding common ground. In our current evangelical mindset, “worship” is too often just the music part of the service, to be joined up with “announcements”, “preaching”, etc. Our thoughtful members would probably nuance the definition if asked, but it’s very easy for anyone, including myself, when leading worship music in the service (see how I just slipped into it there?), to lazily allow just the music to be referred to as “worship”.

4. It’s a derivative of mainstream commercial music.

Yes… but.

As my wife can attest, I have gone off on many a rant about how Christian music so obviously follows mainstream music, just 5 years behind.

Say, for example, when I saw Chris Tomlin’s video of his song “God’s Great Dance Floor” (a concept that I don’t even really want to explore from a theological standpoint, but that’s beside the point), where he matches Coldplay’s Chris Martin in musical style, jacket, and even awkward white-guy dancing.

Or when I realized circa 2012 that DC*Talk’s “Jesus Freak” copied Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit” down to the same chord sequence for the intro. (Points to the late Kurt Cobain for at least not adding a rap about a belly jiggling and ‘a typical tattoo green’.)

But on the other hand… all music is derivative. Commercial music just like church music. For every truly groundbreaking artist you will find a dozen knock-offs popping up a few years later. History has a way of preserving the good ones and weeding out the bad ones. So while some music is so derivative of better mainstream versions that you just have to avoid it, being derivative, by itself, isn’t killing us.

5. It perpetuates an awkward contemporary Christian media subculture.

“[Christian worship music] can’t possibly find itself in Bernstein’s five percent because it’s too busy talking about how “Christian” it is, instead of telling the story.

That’ll preach.

6. It spreads bad theology.

I’m sympathetic here, too, but this is not a factor unique to modern church music. Again, history has a way of weeding out the really atrocious stuff, but you will find theological nightmares in classic hymnody, and you will find beautiful pieces of good theology in modern songs.

7. It creates worship superstars

Aigner clarifies that he’s really complaining about the rock star persona many worship artists take on and the fandom that grows from it. And he’s got a decent point. “We the church become an audience. Groupies. Screaming teenagers for Jesus.” Yep.

That being said, when I hear “worship superstars”, my first thoughts run along the lines of Charles Wesley, Fanny Crosby, Isaac Watts, J.S. Bach… We all have our superstars. The modern ones just have to deal with the modern trappings of celebrity that go along with fandom in this culture.

8. It’s made music into a substitute Eucharist.

Here’s where I think Aigner has a point that’s well worth considering - not necessarily as much for how it critiques our value of the music as it does our value of the Eucharist. I’ll quote him at length:

Most evangelicals, along with the mainline Protestants who are looking to commercial Christian music as an institutional life preserver, use music as if it were a sacrament. Through their music, they allow themselves to be carried away on an emotional level into a perceived sensory connection with the divine. Music is their bread and wine. Don’t believe me? Try telling your church, your pastor even, that we should make a switch. Let’s have Communion ever week, and music once a month (or where I come from, once a quarter). It probably won’t go over well.

That point hits home in my third-Sunday-of-odd-numbered-months-practicing church.

Overall, I appreciate Aigner and people in his camp pushing us toward theological excellence, away from the celebrity worship culture, and toward the Eucharist. On the whole, though, his discussion points might still need some work.

A Meal Shared Among Friends

I’ve had the sacraments (especially the Eucharist) on my mind lately after reading James K. A. Smith’s Desiring the Kingdom, and then listening to the On Being podcast this morning I found this bit from Father Greg Boyle, a delightful Jesuit priest who has spent his life working with gang members in Los Angeles:

Jesus doesn’t lose any sleep that we will forget that the Eucharist is sacred; He is anxious that we might forget that it’s ordinary, that it’s a meal shared among friends, because if we don’t see that, then we’ll be unable to recognize the sacred in the ordinary, and that’s the incarnation.

Interesting to hear from a Catholic. But in my experience, this is a trap we Evangelicals have fallen into at various times, too.

Ruiz: First Church of Authenticity and Trends

Miguel Ruiz, over at Internet Monk, has this gem:

If you can indulge me a moment of satire, what if the impression we sought to give our communities for the reason our church exists looked more like this:

“Grumpy people, bored or frustrated with life, mundane diet of dirges, dull worship, droning sermons, focused on just surviving, burnt coffee, constricting atmosphere, hiding behind a mask of formalism, and little activity outside of Sunday morning. What kind of a God would want us? Join us on Sunday to hear all about the wonderful love of a crucified Savior. We might bore you to death, but you’ll be in good company!”

The whole piece is worth a read.

Not everything that calls itself a church is really a church.

My friend Randy posted a nice little bit of self-observation today that resonates with me:

Q – Randy, are you a heretic or something? What is wrong with you? First, am I a heretic?
No. I hold to the commonly shared beliefs of the church universal without exception. What I am is a critic of the evangelical church in the USA in our era. This church has lost its focus on Jesus and has become some kind of leisure time entertainment/marketing organization. Not that there is anything wrong with that; but of course, there is something wrong with that. Some people fail to distinguish between a local manifestation of the idea of the church and the church itself. If you fail to distinguish those two things, you might see me as destructive rather than constructive. You’ll have to believe me when I say that I love the church. But not everything that calls itself a church is really a church. … Second, what is wrong with me? Lots and lots of stuff.

I love this guy and give him an understanding nod and smile on this Friday.

How can suburban churches minister to urban areas?

Some challenging thoughts from Christina Cleveland today:

If we truly saw ourselves as an interdependent body with a shared Head, resources, blood, and life, then suburban churches that want to love on a city wouldn’t do it by expanding their empires across city lines. They would do it by truly sharing their resources, blood and life in service to the Head. Why build a new church building in the city when you can build one for an urban church – in desperate need of a new building– that is already there doing great work? Why hire a new pastor to work at your new urban church plant, when you can give an urban church the resources to make their long-suffering bi-vocational pastor full-time? Why fund a new urban service project when you can fund the urban service projects that people of color have been running tirelessly and effectively on a shoe-string budget for years? The empire says that our church needs to be present in every community, our church has the answers, and our church’s resources are our resources alone. If we follow this path, power dynamics remain unchanged and urban church plantations ensue. The better, more honoring path requires equity – which is costly. Just ask the rich, young ruler. Jesus asked him to reject his empire approach to life, stop being so possessive about his possessions, and join the interdependent family of God.

Powerful stuff.

The proper evangelical attitude toward sinful behavior outside the church

Here’s one for ya this morning:

The proper evangelical attitude toward sinful behavior outside the church should be one of wise resignation and acceptance. There’s no gospel call to change the world into the church by law. In fact, it cannot be done.

Roger Olson, from How to be Evangelical Without Being Conservative.

I find this thought compelling. It seems so backwards to the evangelical ear, and definitely runs afoul of Dominion Theology, but I think Olson is right.

The proper format for a sermon

A good insight here:

…a genuine sermon must begin with the first proclamation, with the proclamation of salvation. There is nothing more solid, deep and sure than this proclamation. Then you have to do catechesis. Then you can draw even a moral consequence. But the proclamation of the saving love of God comes before moral and religious imperatives. Today sometimes it seems that the opposite order is prevailing.

You’ve gotta love this.

First proclaim the gospel, the truth of God’s love and salvation.

Then do your doctrinal teaching.

Then draw a “moral consequence” - the “what to do”.

But get the order right.

This is just one piece of the wisdom from Pope Francis, as documented in this recently-published interview. It’s long, but a remarkable and highly-recommended read.

Does your church have room for me?

What if I don’t have 100% agreement with your doctrinal statement, but still want to be a part of your church?

Does your church have room for me?

What if I’m perfectly willing to accept that you’re not going to change your church’s views just because I disagree?

Does your church have room for me?


What if I don’t know that I want to be at your church for the rest of my life, but that it’s just the right place for right now?

Does your church have room for me?

What if I want to blog about the things I’m wrestling with theologically, even if I’m using things I hear in the sermons as discussion points?

What if I’m not willing to accept the stock answer to the tough question?

What if I think disagreement doesn’t automatically mean disunity?

Does your church have room for me?


What if I’d like to publicly acknowledge that I don’t always (or even usually) vote Republican?

What if I’d like to publicly support things like single-payer healthcare?

What if I want to say publicly that we shouldn’t be demonizing the cause of illegal immigrants?

Does your church have room for me?

On the other hand,

What if I think that the Bible teaches that homosexual behavior is a sin?

What if I believe that God really knows the end from the beginning?

Does your church have room for me?

What if I believe that there is real faith to be found in churches that are very unlike yours? Among trendy Evangelicals, mainline Protestants, wild Pentecostals, and old-school Catholics?

Does your church have room for me?


What if, after all this, I’d like to use my leadership gifts? What if I’m willing to not push for my own position in the 5% where I disagree, but not willing to deny the disagreement?

What if I can teach for years on topics where we are all in blessed agreement, but occasionally will write a personal blog that none of the other leaders will agree with?

Does your church leadership have room for me?

What if all I want is to have a place where I can fellowship, love, and serve, while at the same time being honest about my views and how they are changing over time?

Does your church have room for me?

When church and convictions conflict - a personal follow-up

Yesterday I recommended Ed Cyzewski’s post talking about when church and your personal convictions come into conflict. Today I’d like to follow up by telling my own story.

The Idea

A little over ago my church decided it was time to promote men’s small groups. And the timing seemed great for me. I was coming through a time of spiritual wrangling and frustration, and was convinced that I needed more frequent and better interaction with godly men in my life. Then I found out how it was going to be themed: Band of Brothers.

bandofbros

(This isn’t my church’s actual ministry logo, but it’s close to what was used.)

If I’m objective, I’ve gotta give the planners props for buying in to the theme. The small groups are called “squads”. Each level of the leadership had a “rank”, and the promotional videos showed the leaders wearing fatigues, moving little army men around a map on a planning table. The invitations to various events were titled “Marching Orders”.

I’m pretty sure that the two pastors leading it up weren’t whole-hog into the theme, but the lay leaders who helped with it were, and so it got adopted. The activities were all camping and outdoors themed. They included plans for a “commitment ceremony” taken straight out of a Courageous movie marketing pack.

And I’ll be honest: my first reaction was to squirm.

Why must men’s ministries be focused around shooting/camping/hunting/outdoorsy stuff? Is it really that big a motivator? I’m not a big outdoorsy guy, so maybe I’m just not their target audience. I’m a musician. And a computer geek / engineer. I mean, I also run and play sports and know how to work with my hands, but I’ve never shot anything bigger than a .22 or more alive than a cardboard box.

But I think it was more than discomfort - it was conviction. Conviction that it would be wrong for me to participate in a program that appeared to be focused around all the militaristic trappings that I believe to be unnecessary and at times very unhelpful.

An attempt

After a couple days of mulling it over, I came up with what I thought would be a win-win solution. So I emailed the pastor leading it, explained that I really wanted to be in a small group but couldn’t stomach the militaristic trappings. So, was there room for “conscientious objector” status within the Band of Brothers? (Hey, creative thinking and humor oughta get me somewhere, right?)

The response I got back the next day was unexpectedly infuriating. Sorry, he said, but no. There was no room for “conscientious objectors”. He said it would be “detrimental to squad morale” if all the members weren’t totally committed to all the activities.

And that was that. I was pissed.

Here I am, I thought, trying to participate in a ministry that I know I need, and they won’t let me.

(Did I mention I was angry?)

That was the first time in what was then four years at my church where I seriously thought about looking for someplace else. Fortunately, there’s a better ending to this story.

A redirection

I talked to my wife about it for a while. I talked to another pastor about it. (Yeah, for you scoring at home, that’s the third different pastor mentioned in this story. Our church has five at the moment. Four will appear in this story before it’s done.)

That other pastor told me (very wisely) that he was more worried about my relationship with pastor #1 than he was about the small group thing. (I was appropriately brought down a notch or two.) My wife reminded me that there were other similar options that the church offered that I had, to this point, not pursued. (Down another couple notches.)

So I didn’t sign up for the Band of Brothers. Instead, the next Tuesday morning at 6 AM I came, bleary-eyed and with coffee in hand, to a men’s prayer group / Bible study hosted by our senior pastor. And within 15 minutes I knew I was in the right place.

At age 36 I’m the youngest guy in the Tuesday morning study by almost 10 years. There’s one regular in his 40s, but most are between late 50s and early 70s. Our senior member is a WWII veteran.

The agenda each Tuesday is simple: share requests, pray for each other, and study whatever the sermon text is going to be for the following Sunday. (Whichever activity we start with usually goes long, so we tend to alternate between mostly prayer one week and then mostly study the next week.) The accumulated wisdom in that room each week is deep and vast. I am (mostly) keeping my mouth shut and learning a lot. It’s awesome.

So this fall they’re cranking up the second year of Band of Brothers, and I’m starting my second year of the Tuesday morning study. And I’m at peace that I’ve made the right choice for me, for now.

Some final thoughts

As I reflect on this after a year to cool off, I’ve got some thoughts:

  • I still think the militaristic theme is unnecessary. But having not attended any of the events I can’t fairly opine on the ministry any more than that.
  • I know that they had far greater numbers of men in the ministry last year than they had expected. If it’s bringing men in and sharpening them, praise God.
  • Like Ed said his post: look for ways to participate and serve that don’t confict with your convictions. While they weren’t going to change the men’s ministry just for me (nor should they have), there were other opportunities available if I was willing to seek them out.
  • This situation highlights one of the benefits of a larger church: that diversity of opportunities. If this had played out at a smaller church it might well have had a less happy ending.
  • Even though I disagree with them at times, I’m hugely blessed to have good pastors and leaders in my church.

When church and convictions conflict

Ed Cyzewski put up a great post yesterday about diversity of churches and ministries and about using your unique giftings to serve God. He tells a couple of stories about his own experience being pulled into churches or ministries that put him at great unease, then follows up with these words which were of great encouragement to me:

You have your own way of interacting with God and with others. Don’t be ashamed of that….

Diversity in church experience doesn’t mean there are those who do it right and those who do it wrong.

Look for the life of God.

Ed manages to strike a good balance between complete “me-focus” and totally ignoring one’s own personality and convictions here:

Sometimes our desires and opinions will lead us astray, prompting us to try to remake the church in our own image. I’ve done that and seen that first hand.

However, in seeking a church community, pay attention to the things that resonate with you. How is God speaking to you? What burdens are on your heart?

God doesn’t give us burdens and desires in order to frustrate us—at least, to frustrate us for the rest of our lives.

Then he brings it home (emphasis mine):

Here’s the key: Church shouldn’t force us to sacrifice our freedom and convictions.

Church should both nurture and provide an outlet for the life that God is building up in us.

Wise words.