Old Worship New

Worship as Performance

2012-05-18T20:14:00.001-05:00

Performance is something of a four-letter word when we talk about it in the context of worship. As worship leaders, we try to minimize the sort of attention-seeking behaviors or motivations that might turn worship into entertainment. And yet it is important to recognize that worship is also drama and pageantry—there is public speaking, ritual, gesture, singing, etc. Worship, in many ways, is performance.

So what does that mean? It means that we need to seriously consider the performance aspects of worship and whether we’re doing them justice. One of my former pastors used to say, “I don’t tolerate perfection well.” This was her way of avoiding the obsessive journey toward a perfectionist ideal that can certainly destroy the very organic and accessible qualities that make worship “the work of the people.” But it can also be a crutch, an excuse to not put our best foot forward for God and one another.

I think of it in terms of the story of the Widow’s Mite (Mark 12:41-44; Luke 21:1-4) where Jesus describes the widow, who gives her last bit of money as an offering, as giving a gift that means far more to God than the gifts of the wealthy, gifts which are higher in monetary value but less sacrificial relative to their abundance in the pockets of the wealthy. For me, this means that faithful worship, while it avoids perfectionist attitudes, needs to still be offering the best of what we have at our disposal. Anything less is hardly sacrificial, and sends the message that our God is not worthy of our best gifts—and that’s the best of each person’s gifts, not the best gifted people offering their gifts at the exclusion of those who may be less gifted.

That means practice. Some musicians (myself included) find it easy to rest on our laurels, faking our way through an offertory, or not bothering to stretch our abilities beyond their current limits. Readers of the lessons may think, “I’m just reading, and I do that every day. I don’t need to practice,” and therefore fail to put in the extra effort toward rehearsing key words and phrases with inflections that can bring those texts to life for the worshipers. Pastors may leave sermon prep until Friday or Saturday, long past the time when a conversation with the musician could have resulted in more fitting and appropriate music and liturgy for that service.

But worship as performance also means thinking about performance etiquette. It is my opinion that far too many sins are committed in worship in the name of “casual” or “visitor-friendly” worship, or because worship leaders failed to follow the order that was printed in the bulletin out of sheer ignorance and/or lack of planning. What kinds of sins? Pastors who skip hymns because they happened to be in a different place in the service that week; worship leaders treating the worshipers as if they are illiterate by announcing every hymn; apologies for skipping things in the bulletin, or cell phone interruptions, or other confessions that draw more attention to the faux pas than the faux pas itself. Good musicians never react (i.e., cringe, grimace, etc.) to a mistake in a performance—they simply keep going as if nothing happened. Reacting draws attention to the mistake and looks unprofessional. Many ensembles also train their members to avoid scratching itches, coughing, tapping their feet, and a host of other things that risk distracting the audience or other ensemble members from the performance.

Another way to think of this is akin to actors breaking character. Certainly worship is a human event, so human emotion and reactions such as laughter and grief should be welcome responses in worship. But care must be taken to ensure that worship leaders, as needed and where appropriate, can “stay in character” to help facilitate the act of worship for the congregation. If our humanity becomes a stumbling block for the worshiper, we have failed to do our jobs. Our job should be to be as transparent as possible, that the worshipers might see the light of the kingdom shining through the thin veil of worship.

Do you agree? Do you disagree? Let me know your own perspective on worship “performance etiquette.”

How to Frustrate the Assembly

2012-05-13T23:29:00.001-05:00

I was walking through a church a while back and I noticed this sign. I couldn't help but laugh at this. It may be tough to see in the photo, so I'll elaborate.

On a locked door that leads to the exterior of this church is a giant, red sign that reads in giant, white letters "EXIT." Underneath this obvious sign is an itty-bitty sign that reads, "Use Other Door <--"

Now aside from the safety aspect of this signage, there is a potential frustration to anyone new to this building and there certainly was one for me! Is this how we are giving directions in our churches?

It is very easy to get lost in a church building, but it's just as easy to get lost during a worship service. I've been to many churches where leadership says something like*: "Let's stand and sing hymn number 452 right after our announcements." Or, "I would like you all to turn in your Bibles to Matthew 6, but not yet." The confusing and devastating direction that seems benign, is the rambling direction, "please stand and great your neighbor showing them God's love within you and seeing God's love within them, because we are all created in God's love and need to see that in each other." By the time the direction is over, no one remembers what we were asked to do. Sometimes, the parishioners have already started the direction and didn't hear the proclamation at the end, because they were talking about the fishing opener.

Here are a couple of ideas of how to not frustrate those in attendance:

1. Give the actual direction immediately before you want the result.
I like "We are all created in God's image of love. Please show that image of God's love with each other by greeting your neighbor," much better than the aforementioned direction. I'm certain there are other ways that get to the heart, but at least the call to action was immediately before the action.
2. Don't talk to much, because talking too much is really a terrible idea and no one wants to hear that much of an explanation. (i.e. Be concise.)
3. Use different words to describe different actions. "Please join me in reading Isaiah 50," should not mean both, please follow along in your Bibles and please read aloud with me.

Finally, #4, think about what you are saying, doing, or posting. Not everyone "gets it." Some of us get confused easily.

I know you have some better ideas than these. Please share them below!

*I'm not exaggerating, these (or something similar) have been spoken to the Assembly during worship.

Breaking B(re)ad

2012-05-01T19:11:00.001-05:00

This post began with me amusing myself with the play on words that is now the title of this post. But as I mulled it over in my head, some provocative theological connections emerged.

From Breaking Bad’s website:

Breaking Bad follows protagonist Walter White (Bryan Cranston), a chemistry teacher who lives in New Mexico with his wife (Anna Gunn) and teenage son (RJ Mitte) who has cerebral palsy. White is diagnosed with Stage III cancer and given a prognosis of two years to live. With a new sense of fearlessness, and a desire to secure his family's financial security, White chooses to enter a dangerous world of drugs and crime, where he ascends to power. The series explores how a fatal diagnosis, such as White's, releases a typical man from the daily concerns and constraints of normal society and follows his transformation from mild family man to kingpin of the drug trade.

At least from a Lutheran perspective, we all suffer a “fatal diagnosis.” Paul writes in Romans 3: “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” Like Walter, this diagnosis has the potential to release us all “from the daily concerns and constraints of normal society.” From Romans 6:

[Count] yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus. 12 Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body so that you obey its evil desires. 13 Do not offer any part of yourself to sin as an instrument of wickedness, but rather offer yourselves to God as those who have been brought from death to life; and offer every part of yourself to him as an instrument of righteousness. 14 For sin shall no longer be your master, because you are not under the law, but under grace. 15 What then? Shall we sin because we are not under the law but under grace? By no means!

In Christ, this diagnosis is not fatal. We Walters have been brought from death to life, and while we could easily find ourselves with a “sense of fearlessness” in our redemption as we might in our condemnation, Paul reminds us that grace should not be viewed as a license to sin but a challenge to discipline ourselves as “instruments of righteousness.”

What does this have to do with worship? In Lutheran theology, communion is seen as a “means of grace,” a tangible expression of Christ’s own self, established by God to sow and water seeds of faith in the Church. In this breaking of bread, we can find reconciliation with God and with each other. As a shared meal, it is a cornerstone of hospitality for the Church and we can use it to both welcome and exclude. For Christians, communion has been a focal point of worship ever since the Church was born in a locked room on Easter morning. It is a witness to the mystery of our faith: Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again. And yet we often reduce its frequency to once or twice a month, or even four or two times a year, hardly a testament to its pride of place in our theology.

We would do well to recover this meal as an essential part of our worship, to let it be unrestrained and not overly subdued by our pieties, and to examine the ways in which we implicitly or explicitly “guard the table,” not only for our sake but for the sake of the world into which we are sent.

Sure, we are condemned. Sure, we may drink judgment upon ourselves if we eat and drink unworthily, but we are all always unworthy to receive the sacrament, and it is precisely our unworthiness—our “breaking bad”—that makes us worthy for breaking bread.

Adding Variety to Our Music: Part IV

2012-04-20T21:10:00.001-05:00

This is the fourth in a series of posts on creative use of congregational song in worship.

For this final post, I’m going to focus on three perhaps more advanced methods of adding variety: medleys, mash-ups, and alternate tunes/texts..

This year and last year I used a medley of Easter hymns for a processional. Because the day is one of those when people come out of the woodwork and appear in the pews and because people seem to love singing their favorite Easter hymns, doing a medley is a way of giving the congregation a taste of many hymns that could not be done otherwise for the sake of time.

For example, this year I did the following hymns, strung together as an opening Easter medley:

Jesus Christ is Risen Today, vs. 1-2;
Christ is Alive! Let Christians Sing, vs. 1-2;
I Know that My Redeemer Lives, vs. 1-2;
Christ is Risen! Alleluia, vs. 1
Jesus Christ is Risen Today, vs. 4

These verses were done back to back with a short interlude between hymns to provide the congregation time to flip pages and to modulate to the appropriate key.

Mash-ups are trickier, especially if you define them strictly as superimposing one song over another. For an excellent example of this, check out Paul Halley’s “Freedom Trilogy,” which near the end lays the classic hymn “Amazing Grace” over the African song “Hallelujah! We Sing Your Praises.” Another example is Sean Caldwell and Paul Ivory’s “Hope for Resolution” which, also near the end, places the chant “Of the Father’s Love Begotten” with the African song “Thula Sizwe” I’ve not done this sort of thing in practice with congregational singing, but the idea is worth testing out. With a properly rehearsed choir and a capable song leader, the congregation could be led in one hymn or song while the choir sings the other.

Finally, alternate texts and tunes. For our Gospel Acclamation this Easter, I used the tune for “Now All the Vault of Heaven Resounds” but with the text for the doxology, “Praise God from whom all blessings flow.” Add the alleluias from “Now All the Vault” and you create a new hymn that still tastes familiar. Another example of this that’s actually in our hymnal is the hymn text “What Feast of Love” set to the tune for “What Child is This.” As you might imagine, it makes a fantastic communion hymn during the Christmas season. Experiment with recombining texts and tunes. Most hymnals have an index of meters in the back to enable this sort of work. If you’re not familiar with hymns and meters, check out this Wikipedia article to get started.

These are just a handful of techniques to expand the musical possibilities for worship. You may have other ideas and other examples. If so, please share them in the comments or on our Facebook page. We’d love to hear your success (and even un-success) stories too, if you try these or other ideas in your own congregations.

Adding Variety to our Music: Part III

2012-04-18T09:35:00.001-05:00

The third article in a series on creative changes to music in worship.

Yesterday’s post focused on canons (rounds) and using hymns in canon. Other techniques that I’ve used include assigning the choir a verse, or men a verse and women a verse, doing a verse instrumentally, or doing a verse in unison with an alternate harmonization.

Using the choir on a verse can have a few different benefits. First, the choir can sing the opening verse of a new or less familiar hymn, giving the congregation a chance to hear it before it is invited to join in singing the subsequent verses. The choir could also be assigned any of the other verses in various ways: singing the verse in unison; singing the verse with the printed harmonies; singing the verse with an alternate harmonization; singing the verse with an alternate rhythmic structure (some hymns, like “A Mighty Fortress” are printed in both rhythmic and isorhytmic versions). Those church musicians with a knack for composing and arranging might even consider writing their own choral arrangements for a single verse and depart entirely from the rhythmic and harmonic structures of the hymn as printed.

Another option is to give a verse to the women to sing, or a verse to the men to sing, or perhaps the right side of the sanctuary and the left side, or however one may wish to divide the assembly. However, care should be taken in determining which verses to assign, avoiding verses that may connote gender stereotypes when sung by men and/or women.

On top of that, a combination of the above approaches could be used, and might look like this:

All
Women
Choir
Men
All

As an example of doing a verse without vocals, I enjoy doing the “hordes of devils” verse of “A Mighty Fortress” with only instruments, using organ and trumpet to communicate the images in the text. I encourage the congregation to follow along in their hymnals so they get the text painting.

Alternate harmonizations can be found in various hymnals; simply look for a harmonization that differs from the one in your own hymnal. If the hymn is a chorale, you might look for a Bach harmonization and have the choir sing that verse unaccompanied. If you’ll be accompanying a verse with a different accompaniment, and if your congregation or choir is used to singing harmony, you’ll want to let them know that the designated verse should be sung in unison.

All of these options provide a different experience of the song, and can help to break up long hymns by giving the congregation a break in one form or another. It creates interest because the sound isn’t the entire congregation singing for the entire time with the same accompaniment, and it forces the congregation to pay attention to who should be singing which verse. None of these are deep theological reasons, but they’re all musical and pastoral reasons which also need consideration.

Have you experimented with any of these techniques in your congregation? Have you encountered them as a worshipper? What other examples might you suggest?

Adding Variety to Our Music: Part II

2012-04-17T10:19:00.001-05:00

The second in a series about exploring creative ideas for songs in worship.

Yesterday’s post focused on Taize-style music as a way to expand a congregation’s musical repertoire and create unique musical experiences in worship.Today, I’ll look at another way to add variety to our music by thinking differently about the individual songs and hymns themselves.

Luke mentioned singing a hymn in canon, though he was left wondering why one might do it. I think that there's room for doing it just for the sake of doing it--it adds variety, challenges the congregation's musicianship in new ways, and I find it to be just plain fun. It's a great way to break up the monotony that can ensue when singing a multi-verse hymn, and it adds an additional and unique aural component, that of hearing the same part sung a measure or so before or after your own. But I also think it can serve to highlight the text.

Some hymns/songs are written to be sung in canon: Some examples:

The “Tallis Canon,” written by Thomas Tallis and often wedded with the text “All praise to thee, my God, this night.”
The traditional “Dona Nobis Pacem”
Marty Haugen’s “Let my prayer rise up” from Holden Evening Prayer
The classic children’s song, “Rejoice in the Lord Always”

Other hymns have melodies that, while not specifically written to be sung in cannon (round), can be done so, especially in ways that highlight the text. Examples:

“Lord, Whose Love in Humble Service,” especially verse 2 which begins: “Still your children wander homeless…”
“Of the Father’s Love Begotten,” especially a seldom-sung verse which includes the line, “Let their guile-less songs re-echo…” You can see how this might work in this recording of the choral piece, “Hope for Resolution”
“Come Thou Font of Every Blessing” could work in round with entrances every two measures, and would be especially appropriate on the verses about wandering.

More detailed treatment of hymns in canon can be found here in an article by John Witvliet.

Where musically possible, verses about tension, strife, or discord might benefit from a canon treatment. Other possibilities include hymns with verses about the dual nature of Christ (which could be illustrated by two-part round/canon), or discipleship (since one part follows the other).

Have you experienced singing rounds/canons in worship before? If so, what was your reaction?Can you think of other examples of hymns that work in canon?

Adding Variety to Our Music: Part I

2012-04-16T21:23:00.001-05:00

This post actually began as a comment I was going to write for Luke’s post about paperless music, but as I was writing the comment it quickly spawned so many thoughts to write that I chose to make it into a series of posts.

Many of the songs Luke describes in his post are similar to those from the Taize or Iona communities. Both communities use music that can be done paperless, and I've used them in my own congregation, though there's always a push by other leadership to either print something or teach it ahead of time. Both approaches, I think, defeat the purpose of the music and destroy its very organic, "learn-as-you-go" quality. The music is designed to be learned by rote and I would argue that it functions best when led in that manner. These songs are a great way to add variety and freshness to a congregation’s musical repertoire as they contrast with our typical strophic hymnody—we sing verse 1, then verse 2, then verse 3, then maybe verses 4 and 5, and we’re done. Very linear, very defined beginnings and ends. Cyclical songs are intended to bear repetition and serve as a sort of mantra, a tool for contemplation and reflection and tend to be misunderstood by congregations when first experiencing them.

I recently used several Taize songs in an ecumenical Good Friday service that my congregation hosted this year. They helped to give the service a very different feeling and mood, one of very intentional self-reflection on Christ’s passion. One song, “Oh Lord, Hear My Prayer” was sung several times at the beginning of the service, after which the congregation participated in a call and response style dialogue with the leader, using selected verses from the Psalms. Musicians vamped the Taize refrain under the spoken dialogue, and then led the congregation back into singing the refrain several additional times before concluding.

Other songs have similar characteristics and can be taught quickly and easily “on-the-fly,” simply announcing changes in words from one verse to the next. One excellent example of this is the song “Live Christ,” by Celia Whitler, used at the ELCA youth gathering in New Orleans in 2009:

These are just a few examples of the many songs available that can be led in this way. What has been your experience with this style of worship music? Have you used them already in your worship setting? If not, would they be effective and well-received? What other examples of these kinds of songs are you familiar with?

The Side-Effects of Playing Church

2012-04-14T13:49:00.001-05:00

Today, I stumbled across this blog post by Rachel Held Evans. She writes of a time when she and her family felt called to leave their church home and forge a new path. As one example of the various signs that such a move was appropriate, she writes:

The performance-reward system in the children’s program started getting under my skin, and I realized that my struggles accepting God’s love, of believing in my worth despite my failures, might have started there.

I’d always considered the children’s activity bags for the church service a gift to parents, but began hearing their subtle message to children that they are best seen and not heard, when really, God loves them loud and wild, like they really are.

I’m not blaming our church, which was gracious and full of wonderful people. They’re doing good work within the framework of church traditions, like services, fellowship, programs and sermons. I simply began to notice the lifelong damage an evangelical upbringing can do along with the safe, the good.

Intrigued, I began thinking about other side-effects of worship-related endeavors that the Church, at least in my experience, has foisted upon its members. That resurrected for me several questions that I’ve raised here before, but also raised new ones:

Does our constant recruiting for volunteers teach people to be helpless? Why do we feel that we, as leaders, must take responsibility for our members’ participation? What would happen if we simply let programs and ministries decay and die under their own weight if people choose not to volunteer and support them, rather than taking it upon ourselves to be the sole driving force behind them?
What do children’s sermons teach children? Do they teach our children that the rest of the service isn’t really for them? Are they an excuse for us to avoid looking for better ways to include children in the whole of the worship experience? Or do we simply like seeing children answer rhetorical questions with child-like innocence (and the occasional distraction or inappropriate response that makes me squirm and cringe and ask why I’m being forced to suffer through a derailed children’s sermon).
What about Youth Sunday? Is that a sort of liturgical affirmative action, excusing our failure to involve youth more comprehensively in worship throughout the year?
Do nurseries provide parents with an excuse to avoid worshiping with their sometimes rowdy children? Do they communicate the same message that Rachel picks up on above, that children are to be seen and not heard?
How much time do we spend focusing on making our worship spaces “welcoming” with signage and bright colors and fail to recognize that our hospitality has more to do with how we act than how our building looks? Is the physical space an easy technical change, a quick fix that enables us to ignore looking at our own hearts and souls?
How do our communion practices parallel our preached values about inclusivity and hospitality? Is guarding the table more important than making room for the stranger at our Lord’s Supper? How is such a limit on hospitality a detriment to the gospel we say we preach?
What does our traditional-contemporary-blended worship model say about how inclusive we are? Don’t those services, by their very nature, communicate to visitors and members alike that any one service isn’t meant for anyone and everyone, but only a select demographic? Does that not put pressure on the visitor to find their own place in our midst rather than pressure on us to make room for them, walk alongside them, and incorporate them into our community?
Does confirmation turn out to be one more set of requirements that we impose upon our youth, that parents feel shamed or obligated to enforce, ultimately teaching youth that the Church is not a place to feel welcome and safe but a place to feel burdened, restricted, marginalized, and/or tormented by adults? We all talk about the old cliché of how many youth disappear after being confirmed, but have we learned anything from the cliché, do we challenge our long-held and potentially false assumptions, are we willing to let go of our nostalgia and traditionalism, or do we simply cling tighter to what we think we know and try to solve the problem with a bigger hammer?

Rachel concludes:

Away from the safety of The Church and her built-in programs and values, we’re parenting and defining faith with more purpose.

And because we left, because we now have to give our kids their faith foundation instead of relying on The Church to provide it, we are finding our faith again, too.

Not blind faith. Not immature; but open. Accepting. Creative and free and listening and ready.

Like a child.

Maybe we’re barking up the wrong tree. Maybe our focus should be less on connecting people with the Church and more on connecting people with people, especially parents and children. Martin Luther wrote his small and large catechisms so that parents would be empowered to teach their children the fundamentals of Lutheran theology. Where are we today? We let parents off the hook and do their job for them. What might happen if we designed the structure of our churches in such a way that they created cultures where parents were challenged to “give [their] kids their faith foundation instead of relying on The Church to provide it”? Perhaps more of them—more of US—would “find our faith again, too.”

The Art of Leading Worship

2012-03-26T09:27:00.001-05:00

One of my professors once said that it is a fundamental responsibility of the worship leader to remain silent unless the liturgy requires him/her to speak or sing. This gets at a larger issue of worship leadership: transparency.

For me, the transparency of the worship leader is crucial. Too often I have seen pastors, musicians, and other worship leaders allow their personal idiosyncrasies (insecurities?) to control their leadership. Certainly it is not possible to prevent one’s own personality from emerging in the act of leading worship, but that’s not what I mean. What I mean is that sometimes we lead more for the sake of meeting our own needs to say and do things than the congregation’s need to hear and see them.

For example, one of my biggest pet peeves relating to worship leadership is when worship leaders provide gratuitous amounts of extraneous instruction in the name of hospitality. I’ve mentioned this in previous posts, but I think it deserves another look. In these cases, it is important for the worship leader to question whose needs are being met: the leaders need to provide instruction or to seem caring and personal, or the congregation’s need for instruction? I’m convinced that more often than not, worship leaders do things to meet their own needs than the congregation’s. I believe that worship leaders should provide as little instruction as possible and only as much as necessary.

But this goes beyond instruction. It also manifests itself in lengthy announcements, prayers that become more sermons than prayers, emotional monologues to introduce the next song, and so on. All of these things cross a fine line between being transparent and being opaque as a worship leader. When we become more opaque, then worshippers find themselves focusing on us, either positively or negatively. “I just love her stories.” “Why does he spend so much time giving announcements?” Either way, we have gotten in the way of the act of worship.

Worship should be like a thin piece of cloth—held up to the light, you can almost see through it to the other side. Worship should be transparent, to let the light of the kingdom seep through and be visible to those worshiping. That means being vigilant as worship leaders and always discerning how our quirks and insecurities manifest themselves in our leading and wind up getting in the way. This kind of work takes humility on our part as worship leaders and the company of others whom we trust to speak the truth to us in love.

What are your own quirks and idiosyncrasies? How have you encountered worship leadership that draws attention to itself and has distracted you from worshipping?

Paperless Music/Music that Makes Community

2012-03-24T11:37:00.004-05:00

This week I was part of a conference put on by All Saints Company about Paperless music. It was an interesting conference, full of interesting people (I'm looking at you, guy that fell asleep in a small group of 8 people), and I'm going to do some public processing of what I saw, heard, and felt.

Here are some links if you're interested:

http://www.allsaintscompany.org/

http://www.saintgregorys.org/

http://www.christchurchluth.org/

For those who don't want to click on links, here's a short introduction to Paperless music: It started at St. Gregory of Nyssa Episcopal Church in San Francisco, a very hip congregation - open to experimenting and pushing boundaries. They wanted to do an evening liturgy lit only by candles, but discovered that holding a candle and juggling a book didn't work very well. So they commissioned a bunch of composers to write songs for the assembly to sing that did not require folks to hold paper. It's grown into a fairly major movement, especially within the Episcopal and Lutheran (ELCA) church bodies.

Obviously since no one has paper, the words and music are both relatively simple, and involve a lot of repeating. It reminded me of something I learned from C. Michael Hawn - church music can basically be divided into two groups: Cyclical and Strophic. Paperless music is, by its very nature, very cyclical. My brain works in a much more strophic way, but I know that many people get more out of cyclical songs; at my church I almost always have a Taize song for those people to latch onto. And some of the paperless music was quite complex - cyclical does not mean simplistic!

There are a lot of great things about Paperless music. Here is an incomplete list:

Allows non-readers (kids) to participate
Frees us from books and wordiness of paper-based texts
We become more of a community when singing with each other. Papered music often feels more like singing in the same room as other people.
We can move around - dance, even!
Gives time for reflection on a text
Far more room for improvisation (harmonizing)
Easier for people that don't read music (or "don't sing") to participate, since Paperless music always has a teaching element built into it.
Allows people who have no common musical lexicon to sing a song together (see St. Paul's Chapel, NYC)
Awesome for use at outdoor services, meetings, processions, etc!

I think it's great stuff, and I hope to use some of their music at my church in the future. Here are some challenges to think about when using paperless music:

Liturgical timing. Usually paperless music involves someone standing at the front of the room and teaching/leading the group in a song (at least that's how everything seemed to work at this conference). At my church, the traffic flow for communion means that there is no way we could do this during Distribution.
Leading humbly (I'm looking at you, aging Christian guitar-player with more energy than skill) and competently (I'm looking at... well... more than one person). Humbly because 1) the leader is the only one who knows the music, since no one else can see it and 2)because in a liturgical setting, there is usually some action happening during singing that deserves more attention than a song leader.
Finding a balance. I found myself longing for a 5-verse hymn at some of the services we did at this conference.
Good text. This is an issue with all music in church. One example of a poor text at this conference: "Light and dark, light and dark, light and dark, light and dark". Also, the song "There is some kiss we want... on the body" made me uncomfortable (and yes, I do agree with the theological/anthropological point it's trying to make - it's still a little weird for this mid-westerner).
Leading in a way that "normal people" feel comfortable. Scott Weidler did a great job talking about how to use the choir effectively for this - both so that I as a leader can practice introducing a song to the choir paperless-ly, but also placing them strategically to encourage the congregation and not allowing them to make up harmonies until the "normal people" are comfortable.

Some other thoughts about the conference as a whole:

Lots of emphasis on teaching how to teach music. Which is great. But if you've ever had a reasonably successful Children's choir, you can do this. Echo-sing and showing pitch with the hand are two things that children's choir people really don't think about anymore. I was disappointed no one pointed out that the same techniques are used in Paperless music as in teaching kids. Kodaly hand-signals and Orff echo techniques are just more sophisticated ways of doing what everyone at this conference was already doing.
No one talked about the history of paperless singing. From lining-out hymns to singing chants from memory, etc. - this is not a new thing, people.
It was nice singing a cappella. But I got tired of it after a while. The organ came in on one or two songs and really added musical interest. I was thinking a lot about adding Orff instruments on the pentatonic songs.
There was a lot of talk about emotions. I always get uncomfortable when church leaders start talking about stirring emotions in worship (I'm looking at you, woman who started crying when telling the story of the Prodigal Son). Is one of the great advantages of Paperless music its ability to stir emotions? Ok. But how does that praise God, encourage our Christian witness, or teach us about God?
Perhaps most interesting to me: None of the presenters were really excited about how people love this style of singing, and how successful they are at it. Our leaders seemed to be always saying, "We sing this one pretty well." or "This is a 3-part song. After a lot of practice, my congregation can handle 2 parts."
Lots of canons. I once worked with a priest who, upon being told that I wanted to sing a song in canon, said, "Why?" And I was at a loss to explain why. I wanted to say: "Because it's musically interesting." But is that the point of church music?

Worship and the Avant Garde

2012-03-04T17:07:00.001-06:00

Last Sunday, to highlight the story of the temptation of Christ, I played Henry Cowell’s “The Banshee” for an offertory:

Knowing this was pushing the boundaries of what my congregation was used to, I included a performance note in the bulletin with history and background of the piece as well as an explanation of why it was significant for that Sunday.

The response I got from worshipper’s was surprisingly enthusiastic and appreciative, with many expressing wonder that they’d “never heard a piano played that way” before.

I say this to open up the door for discussion on just where we draw the lines for what music we include in worship. This piece was written in the 1920’s—does that make it traditional, or contemporary? Where is there room for the avant garde in worship, for the abstract musical art forms? Do we make music too utilitarian or too cosmetic in worship, focusing only on whether it fits the theme for the day or whether it fits some predetermined aesthetic mold (i.e., traditional organ and hymnody or contemporary Christian rock/pop)? It seems to me that music can transcend our neat little boxes to communicate the Word of God in far more profound ways if we would get out of the way.

Reactions? Would this piece work in your setting? How might you as worship leaders or planners push the envelope and step outside the box in your worship services?

Of Culture and Arrangement

2012-01-27T17:30:00.000-06:00

A few months ago, I was listening to a friend talk about his "weekend off." The church where he serves has a bluegrass-esque group that plays on the 5th Sunday of the month and this was a 5th Sunday.

"It would have been fine," he said, "if they wouldn't have chosen 'Siyahamba'!" I asked why he thought that way. He said something to the effect of it being blasphemous for an African song being played on a banjo.

Now, before I continue, I would like to tell another story. I think this will make my mind a little clearer.

A church I used to serve has a partner congregation in Tanzania where they give support in prayer, finance, and other gifts. One of those gifts is that the congregation in the US annually visits the Tanzanian churches, for there are many churches, but one congregation.

My musician friend, Kirsten, who leads the group goes nearly every year. Upon her return, I asked her about the music. "Oh, Sean, I wish you could have heard it!" she exclaimed, "It was so great!"

It turns out that they sing, without accompaniment, both songs from Tanzanian culture and more Western hymns. Apparently, they sang "Praise to the Lord, the Almighty," a favorite hymn of hers. There was percussion. Do you think she turned up her nose and said, "It's blasphemous to sing that song with djembe!"? No, she talked about how fun it is and a great way to bring the old hymn some life to people in a very different environment from Joachim Neander, who wrote the hymn.

Now, I know that these are two different people about two different topics. However, why is there excited about the use of native instruments in Africa, but disdain for the use of native instruments in America? Or another way to look at it: Why is it weird to play African music on an organ, but not organ music with a drum and choir?

I think part of being engaging and "relevant" in this day and age may not be getting rid of old music, but making it new again. If your context is guitars and banjos, go ahead and play African music. Honestly, it might not sound good, but try it and see how it works. If your culture is organs, go ahead and play "Siyahamba" on the organ and see how the assembly likes it. If your culture is electric guitars, please don't throw out all the old hymns because they are old. Let's just teach the faith with new some tools.

Would you ever play a song from Africa on a banjo?

Remembering Baptism

2012-01-05T21:07:00.001-06:00

With Baptism of our Lord this Sunday (for lectionary-keeping churches), it’s a great opportunity to explore your denomination’s baptismal theology in worship, or simply explore the imagery.

If your font is movable, consider locating it near the entrance to the sanctuary to highlight the symbolism.

Consider placing bowls of water throughout the worship space and encouraging worshipers to trace the sign of the cross on one another with the water.

If your font is a bowl, consider using something larger in it’s place: an artificial pond, a kiddie pool, a claw-foot tub—what could you use to heighten the extravagance of the symbol? Jesus was washed in the Jordan; how can you emphasize the large volume of water as a testament to God’s abundant grace?

Consider a rite of “affirmation of baptism” for the whole assembly, concluding with sprinkling the congregation with water from the font via an evergreen branch.

For Lutheran congregations, consider using the questions and answers on Holy Baptism from Luther’s Small Catechism in worship. The pastor could ask the questions and the congregation could take the answers, or vice versa. Alternatively, you could read through it twice, with the congregation asking the questions the first time through, then answering them the second time through. Or, recycle this again on Transfiguration Sunday to bookmark this season; for Baptism of our Lord, have the congregation ask the questions, and on Transfiguration have the congregation recite the answers.

Finally, brainstorm ways for worshippers to take this theme home with them. How can they remember the significance of their baptism daily? Is there something tangible they could take home, say, a seashell (traditionally used to pour water over the head of the baptized during the rite)? The possibilities are limited only by your imagination.

What does baptism mean to you? How will this Sunday’s theme be significant in your own faith journey?

Name Above All Names

2012-01-02T23:17:00.001-06:00

Yesterday, being both a Sunday and January 1, provided lectionary-abiding congregations with an option: to celebrate it as the First Sunday after Christmas or to celebrate the festival of the Name of Jesus, commemorating both the naming of the Christ-child and his circumcision on the eighth day after his birth.(Luke 2:21).

I suspect that most worshipers in so-called “liturgical churches” are not cognizant of the plethora of scriptural references present in the formal liturgy. In light of this, and to connect this post to yesterday’s feast of the Name of Jesus, I offer a cursory look at the various times and ways in which the Name of God/Christ is invoked or simply referred to.

invocation. “In the name of the father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen”
Preparatory prayer for confession. “Almighty God, to whom all hearts are open…though Jesus Christ our Lord.”
Prayer of confession. “Most merciful God…For the sake of your Son, Jesus Christ, have mercy on us. Forgive us, renew us, and lead us, so that we may delight in your will and walk in your ways, to the glory of your holy name.”
Absolution. “In the mercy of almighty God, Jesus Christ was given to die for us, and for his sake God forgives us all our sins. As a called and ordained minister of the church of Christ and by his authority, I therefore declare to you the entire forgiveness of all your sins, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”
Apostolic greeting. “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with you all.”
Kyrie. “…let us pray to the Lord. Lord, have mercy.”
Gloria. “Glory to God in the highest and peace to God’s people on earth. Lord God, heavenly King, almighty God and Father. […] Lord Jesus Christ, only Son of the Father. Lord God, Lamb of God, you take away the sin of the world: have mercy on us; you are seated at the right hand of the Father: receive our prayer. For you alone are the Holy One, you alone are the Lord, you alone are the Most High, Jesus Christ, with the Holy Spirit, in the glory of God the Father.”
At the conclusion of the readings. “The word of the Lord. Thanks be to God.”
Announcement of the gospel. “Glory to you, O Lord.”
Conclusion of the gospel. “Praise to you, O Christ.”
Nicene Creed. “We believe in one God, the Father, the Almighty…We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ, eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, of one Being with the Father…We believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life, who proceeds from the Father and the Son, who with the Father and the Son is worshiped and glorified…”
Prayers of Intercession. “Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayer.”
Sharing of the Peace. “The peace of Christ be with you always.”
Sursum corda. “The Lord be with you; and also with you. Lift up your hearts; we lift them to the Lord. Let us give thanks to the Lord our God; it is right to give him thanks and praise.”
Preface. “It is indeed right and salutary that we should at all times and in all places give thanks and praise to you, O Lord, Holy Father, almighty and everlasting God…”
Sanctus. “Holy, holy, holy Lord, God of power and might. Heaven and earth are full of your glory. Hosanna in the highest. Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest.”
Words of Institution. “In the night in which he was betrayed our Lord Jesus took bread, and gave thanks; broke it, and gave it to his disciples, saying: Take and eat; this is my body given for you. Do this for the remembrance of me…”
Lord’s prayer. “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name…”
Agnus Dei. “Lamb of God, you take away the sin of the world. Have mercy on us…”
Nunc dimittis. “Now, Lord, you let your servant depart in peace…”
Aaronic blessing. “The Lord bless you and keep you. The Lord’s face shine on you with grace and mercy. The Lord look upon you with favor and give you peace.”
Dismissal. “Go in peace. Serve the Lord. Thanks be to God.”

This, in my opinion, is the joy of the formal liturgy of the Church catholic. It is easy, in the spirit of cultural accessibility, to start pruning the liturgy of it’s formalness and “Christian-ese.” But the danger is one of throwing the baby out with the bathwater, pruning so severely that the service is left with little to no invocation of the name of the God we are there to worship.

You have a name; I have a name. We get anxious and embarrassed when we forget someone’s name, knowing that names are important, part of that person’s identity. To forget someone’s name makes us feel as though we’ve forgotten them as a person, that we’ve not considered them important enough to even keep track of who they are. The name of our God should be no less important, no less impersonalized by monikers like “Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer” and the like.

The centuries-old liturgy will have none of that, as evidenced by it’s constant invocation of the name of Christ. To that end, the feast of the Name of Jesus is one we celebrate virtually every Sunday. Paul calls Jesus the name “that is above every name” (Phil 2.9). Peter preached to his captors that “there is no other name under heaven given among mortals by which we must be saved.” (Acts 4.12).

Christ’s name is central to our faith and to our worship, and no visitor to such worship should leave wondering who is being worshiped or even why.

Growing Older

2011-12-31T11:25:00.001-06:00

One of my favorite hymns is this one, penned by hymn writer William Gay:

Each winter as the year grows older,

we each grow older, too

The chill sets in a little colder;

the verities we knew seem shaken and untrue.

So even as the sun is turning

to journey to the north,

the living flame, in secret burning,

can kindle on the earth and bring God’s love to birth.

This day, New Year’s Eve, is where Christmas meets Advent again—not Advent in the liturgical sense, but a secular one, our pregnant waiting for the new year to come in. We make new year’s resolutions; we gather with friends and family to watch the ball drop at midnight. Our culture has ritualized this time of new beginnings, of welcoming in the new year.

But, as the hymn text above reminds us, another year means we’re another year older, a reminder of our mortality. Still, the fact that days have been getting longer for over a week now as the sun makes its annual journey back to the north is a reminder of the renewal of life, the cycle of death and resurrection that we easily gloss over in holiday festivities.

As churches await Epiphany on January 6, these twelve days of Christmas become difficult for us to wrap our liturgical heads around. What do we do in this time? How do we continue to celebrate the birth of Christ while the rest of the world has moved on to celebrate the new year? There are no easy answers. Perhaps this is where worship must come home with us as worshipers:

O Child of ecstasy and sorrows,

O Prince of peace and pain,

brighten today’s world by tomorrow’s,

renew our lives again; Lord Jesus, come and reign!

As we celebrate the new year, let us also continue to celebrate the One who makes all things new. As we welcome 2012, let us welcome anew the One born to us in the fullness of time. As we make new year’s resolutions, let us remember the One who makes alive by killing, who brings death to the old self and resurrects the new.

May your new year be filled with God’s richest blessings.

A Case of the Bah-Humbugs

2011-12-28T20:48:00.001-06:00

I’ll admit it. Part of me is glad Christmas is over. Sure, part of me laments the demise in our Western culture of celebrating the full 12 days of Christmas. But there’s a part of me that finds Christmas to be my least favorite holiday in the church year.

Yes, there’s the over-commercialization, and we would do well as churches to fight against it. But that’s not why I tend to dislike Christmas. For me, Christmas is irksome because it tends to come across as dripping with sappy sentimentalism and nostalgia, focusing way too much on the cute little baby in the manger.

Don’t believe me? Well, when was the last time you saw a Children’s Good Friday pageant? When was the last time your congregation clamored for singing just one Easter hymn during Lent? Easter just doesn’t have the same emotional pull that Christmas does.

So what’s a congregation to do? I have no answers, only questions. How can we take Christmas deeper than just sentimental trappings? How can we involve children in more meaningful ways than simply throwing them onto a stage to sing our favorite carols, or dress them up like angels and wise men? Is baby Jesus really what Christmas is all about? Making a big to-do about the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger may be missing the point. After all, it’s surely not insignificant that only two of the four gospels record a birth narrative. Is there not more to Christmas that we can focus on?

Perhaps you disagree with me. Perhaps I’m just venting frustration, but I think these questions deserve real thought on all our parts. How does your church stay countercultural in the face of the holiday season? Does your church hold a “blue Christmas” service to minister to those for whom Christmas is not filled with “good tidings of great joy?” Or what about an end of the year healing service? What other ways might congregations transcend the trivial during this time?

The Participatory Church

2011-12-12T18:04:00.001-06:00

I stumbled across this blog post by Steve Knight over at Knightopia. In it, he quotes Eric Weiner in a recent New York Times op-ed piece:

“We need a Steve Jobs of religion. Someone (or ones) who can invent not a new religion but, rather, a new way of being religious. Like Mr. Jobs’s creations, this new way would be straightforward and unencumbered and absolutely intuitive. Most important, it would be highly interactive. I imagine a religious space that celebrates doubt, encourages experimentation and allows one to utter the word God without embarrassment. A religious operating system for the Nones among us. And for all of us.”

Knight argues that this movement is already here, with such people as “Brian McLaren, Doug Pagitt, Rob Bell, Shane Claiborne, and Peter Rollins (among others)” leading the way. Going on, Knight challenges worship leaders across denominations to consider this idea of “participation” seriously, pointing out that many churches do things to people rather than inviting them to participate in the doing.

I’m a bit torn by all of this. Part of me sees the Church throughout history, at its most faithful and life-giving, as just this sort of thing: engaging people, inviting them, making room for them, being “interactive” and “experimental.” In other words, there’s nothing new under the sun in his assessment—this is what the Church, at its finest, simply does. Good liturgy is truly “the work of the people”: it is participatory, interactive, experimental. Good liturgy also flows into mission, sending people out into the world to be Christ—how much more interactive can you get than people feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, healing the sick, etc.?

On the other hand, part of me disagrees with the assessment of Knight and one of his sources, Dr. Bolger that we live in a “participatory” culture shaped by the internet. At least in my experience—and therefore this is purely anecdotal evidence—the context of my ministry has been rarely a culture of participation. It’s more like pulling teeth to get people involved. It is a small fraction of people who actually sing in worship (assuming they even show up for worship) and truly interact with one another in the ways that would truly transform the world were they to do so.

In the book Habits of the Heart, Robert Bellah writes about Joe Gorman, a dedicated volunteer in Joe’s community of Suffolk:

"As a traditional American patriot, Joe Gorman deeply cherishes the American ideal of freedom, even though in many ways it is precisely the ideal of freedom that makes his dream of a united Suffolk family impossible to achieve. The success of Suffolk's family spirit depends, as he has discovered, on the willingness of a few people like himself to volunteer freely to sustain community life with their own efforts. Yet he recognizes that very few people in Suffolk are willing to undertake the burdens of sharing community life, and that a man like himself is therefore likely to become exhausted, repeatedly finding himself the only volunteer."

The sort of participatory culture required for the Church to engage the world in a “ministry of reconciliation,” as the apostle Paul wrote, requires the sort of hands-on, in-the-trenches work that the internet culture tries to avoid: people shop online so they don’t have to deal with real people in a store; people give offerings to missions so they don’t have to volunteer at the soup kitchen; congregations hire full-time staff to do the work of ministry that would otherwise require the coordinated efforts of laity. In other words, the culture of participation needed by the Church is, I would contend, incompatible with the participatory culture shaped by internet and technology, one characterized by privatization..

To summarize: I think the Church, at it’s best, is precisely what Weiner wants—straightforward, unencumbered, intuitive, interactive, experimental, participatory. It has always been that in one form or another. But the culture around is is not one that can support the sort of corporate work ethic that the Church requires, a disparity that I suspect will only continue to worsen.

Perhaps you have a different take on the issue. If so, please share it!

Waiting in Anticip...ation

2011-12-01T14:26:00.003-06:00

Here we are: the first week in Advent. With Black Friday madness fading in the memory, we're reminded still that the busy holiday season is upon us. In Year B, the weeks of Advent transport us from themes of watching and waiting (week 1); to preparing ourselves, our families, our community, and our world for Christ (week 2); to joining John the Baptist as a living proclamation of Christ’s coming (week 3); to assurance that God is truly at work in the world (week 4). As we prepare to tear open our gifts on Christmas, may we also find ways to prepare our hearts, for God promises to “tear open” the heavens and come down (Isaiah 64.1; Mark 1.10).

What does your Advent look like? Perhaps your songs may be in more minor keys than usual, tempos may be slower than usual, and the energy and excitement may be less intense than usual. To those for whom Advent is a foreign concept, this shift in the affect of worship is all part of the rhythm of life as it is lived out in our worship. To some, this may seem dry and lifeless, but these value judgments prevent us from embracing Advent for what it is: a time to reflect, to slow down, and to prepare. As any good musician knows, the rests are just as important as the notes. Advent prevents the Christmas season from overtaxing us. If we simply charge ahead into Christmas at full throttle, we will be burned out before we ever get to the celebration. How many of us really maintain the joyous holiday spirit for the full 12 days of Christmas that last until January 6? I don’t know about you, but some years, by the time December 26 rolls around, I’m ready to turn off the Christmas music, box up the decorations, and burn the tree!

Advent calls us to a different way of living, one of patience, confession, and personal reflection. Watch for Christ. Prepare for Christ. Proclaim Christ. Live Christ.

Christ the King, 2011

2011-11-15T22:16:00.001-06:00

Of all festivals in the liturgical year, I find this one to be the most…provocative…

First, it’s the most recent addition to the church calendar, being instituted by Pope Pius XI in 1925 in the midst of Mussolini’s rise to power—Mussolini had become prime minister of Italy in 1922, and by early 1925 had asserted himself as dictator and turned Italy into a police state. Pius XI established the feast of Christ the King in a letter on December 11 that year, and on Christmas Eve, Parliament passed a law declaring Mussolini no longer prime minister but “head of the government” and accountable only to the King.

Second, though originally observed on the last Sunday of October (immediately before All Saints), in 1969 Pope Paul VI relocated it to the last Sunday of the liturgical year, falling in late November. Liturgically speaking, this locates in the midst of a series of Sundays with a strong eschatological focus (Advent included). But I cannot fail to notice the coincidence that, in American churches, this locates a feast about the sovereignty of Christ right around election time, creating prime fodder for sermons about where our loyalties as American Christians must ultimately be, and it also is an opportunity to wrestle with your congregation about those ubiquitous American flags in our sanctuaries…

Provocative as it is for me, I find plenty of musical material for it, unlike some other days of the calendar. Better still, the texts for this day lend themselves very well to many contemporary songs, due in large part to the contemporary worship movement’s ties to evangelical Christianity, and evangelical Christianity’s strong theological themes of Christ as victor and conqueror. Songs such as “Ancient of Days,” “Mighty to Save,” “You Are My KIng (Amazing Love),” and “Lord, Reign in Me” are all excellent choices thematically for this Sunday, and they are also among the more congregationally appropriate of the genre.

What are your favorite hymns/songs that proclaim Christ’s kingship?

Let Us Talents and Tongues Employ

2011-11-10T09:23:00.001-06:00

This week’s gospel lesson (for those that follow the Revised Common Lectionary) is the parable of the talents, a great illustration of stewardship. How does worship connect with stewardship?

There is a multitude of ways to empower people to use their gifts in worship. Pastors could set aside a group of lay preachers to read through the texts and process the material; these lay leaders could preach on Sundays when the pastor must be gone, or they could lead worship for the homebound or those in care facilities.

Assisting ministers are another great way to empower worship leaders in your congregation. Assisting ministers can lead the prayers and other parts of the liturgy and help serve communion. In my congregation, we have a senior pastor, an associate pastor, but we still make sure we have assisting ministers so that the “work of the people” is still central to worship and it has a fringe benefit of allowing us to designate a presider and a preacher—that way, the one giving the sermon doesn’t have to focus on all of the other logistics of worship that day.

I’ve also been tempted to do weekly or monthly worship planning meetings and open them up to the whole congregation—whomever wishes to participate and share their ideas is welcome. This lets the congregation get a behind-the-scenes look at how we plan worship, and it also affords them some ownership of the process.

Another idea: Thanksgiving is coming up shortly, and my congregation actively contributes to the food pantry in our community. As a way of connecting worship with stewardship, during the offering at our Thanksgiving Eve services I typically have the ushers bring up the grocery bags of food that have been donated that week. It helps people recognize that offering is more than money, and that the gifts we have to offer extend beyond the four walls of the sanctuary—it’s not just about keeping the lights on and paying people’s salaries.

How do you live out connections to stewardship in your worship? What other ideas might you suggest?

The Challenge of All Saints Sunday

2011-11-04T10:57:00.002-05:00

For many churches, worship on Sunday will be a remembrance and celebration of "saints." For some denominations, this will include a focus on particular "heroes of the faith." For others, it is a chance to focus on the "cloud of witnesses," the "invisible Church" of all times and places.

In my congregation, we have had a tradition for the last few years of celebrating Reformation and All Saints by planning our two Sunday morning services to be identical. Typically, we have an 8:30 "traditional" service and a 10:45 "contemporary" or "blended" service (depending on how you define those terms). On Reformation Sunday (last week), I included this note in the bulletin:

To celebrate our Lutheran heritage for Reformation Sunday, both services today are “traditional” in order to highlight the 500-year foundation on which our worship is built. In contrast, All Saints Sunday (Nov. 6) worship will be “contemporary” for both services as a reminder that our work as saints takes place in this particular place and time. Please use the communion cards to let us know where you saw God at work in worship today!

I include a similar note on All Saints Sunday. But here's the dilemma: Reformation Sunday is easy to plan as a pull-out-all-the-stops, high-church service; All Saints, on the other hand, is far from easy to plan with contemporary resources. The state of contemporary Christian pop music (at least the small slice of the available music that I'm able to keep up with) is notably lacking in "saints" language. The vast majority of it is highly focused on the level of personal relationship--what God does for me and what I do for God.

This is not necessarily bad, but it does pose problems for finding music for some days in the lectionary. All Saints Sunday is almost the opposite of that aforementioned theme. I would argue that, to a certain extent, All Saints is a recognition of what we do for each other. It's about passing on the faith to other generations; it's about being in service to the neighbor; it's about walking along side one another in the midst of suffering and trial. In some respects, it is the one day that the Church gets to celebrate its own self, the one day when the Church gets to celebrate what it means to be the Church. But in my opinion, that's a concept that seems to be foreign to the general theology of contemporary Christian pop/rock music.

There are some musical exceptions out there, and I'm hoping y'all can suggest more. I have been drawn to a couple of songs that work very well for All Saints in a contemporary context. One is "Let It Be Said of Us" by Steve Fry. The second is "Find Us Faithful" by Steve Green. As contemporary songs go, they're old, but they are the best songs I've found for getting at the heart of All Saints Sunday.

Perhaps you'll find them useful in your own congregations, and if you have other suggestions, please let us know in the comments below.

Accepting My Limitations

2011-10-21T10:27:00.001-05:00

This post is a complement to my previous one, titled, “Becoming a Better Worshiper.”

I was having a conversation with a relative a couple weekends ago. She was discussing how she sometimes doesn’t feel like her pastor’s sermons motivate her, and she leaves worship not feeling energized for the week. Then, the other day I had a conversation with a former pastor who suggested that a pastor’s primary role in preaching should be to motivate.

Should this be the musician’s role as well? Should this be worship’s role? I’m inclined to disagree. I’m convinced that for musician’s and pastors and even worship itself to take responsibility for the participation and motivation of our parishioners and worshipers is to doom ourselves to endless stress, disappointment, and failure. Hence the title of this post, “Accepting My Limitations.”

It comes down to boundaries. There is a difference between being responsible to others and being responsible for others. In other words, my responsibility as a leader is to stay connected to the people, to encourage them, to walk alongside them, to challenge them, but to avoid taking on their personal responsibilities. If I start taking responsibility for constantly emailing my song leaders to remind them of the schedule I’ve already sent out, or taking responsibility for planning music that will “engage” certain people, or constantly catering to the comments I get from people about how they didn’t like some aspect of worship, I have taken responsibility for them. What results is leaders under constant stress who feel burned out in the short term, and congregation members who aren’t challenged to grow and mature.

I believe that I, as a worshiper, am solely responsible for my participation and for life-application of the Gospel, and I believe that I, as a worship leader, am responsible for ensuring that I do not take the responsibilities of the worshiper for myself. The worship leader or preacher cannot and should not be a spiritual motivator. In an ordination service, the pastor receives his or her stole, a symbol of their office of Word and Sacrament. What they do not receive are pom-poms; they are not called by congregations to stand on the sidelines and cheer us on as we “run the race.” They are there to walk along side us with compassion—literally, “with-suffering”—and this is our calling to one another as Christians.

There is a story by David Griebner called “The Carpenter and the Unbuilder.” The king of a kingdom invites the carpenter to a banquet. The carpenter spends six months preparing for event: learning about current events, studying the rules of etiquette, etc. Finally he packs his bags and takes off, taking his tools along to build shelter as needed. But when he stops to build shelter, he gets caught up in it. What begins as a simple shack for a night’s stay becomes an elaborate house under perpetual construction as the carpenter constantly adds on and improves the structure. The king, recognizing the carpenter’s delay, sends out another citizen whom he invited to go out and check on the carpenter. This citizen finds the carpenter and challenges him to continue on the journey. Calling himself the unbuilder, the citizen reminds the carpenter of the journey when he gets distracted, explores options with him when he is overwhelmed by decisions, but never stays inside the shelter with the carpenter, knowing that they must continue journeying to the banquet—the king will keep the food warm until they arrive.

Leaders, like the unbuilder, are not called to make all their people’s decisions, or do all the work. As John the Baptist said of Christ, “He must increase; I must decrease.” So it is with leaders and followers. Leaders walk alongside, explore options, challenge preconceptions and misconceptions, and do their best to avoid getting “caught up” in staying stuck in one place. In the end, it is the people who must choose the path.

So let us take responsibility for our own journey of faith, our own worship, our own service to God and the neighbor, and walk alongside our leaders as they walk with us. And as leaders, let us take responsibility for our leading, but not for others’ following.

Becoming a Better Worshiper

2011-10-17T17:44:00.001-05:00

When I’m worshiping outside my own congregation (and even in my own congregation) I sometimes find myself thinking the strangest things: the tempo of that hymn was too slow, the pastor preached too long, the reader kept stumbling over words, the microphones weren’t turned up enough, the pew cushions aren’t soft enough, the service felt sluggish, the song leader waxed philosophic, etc. I soon discover I spent the whole worship service evaluating the worship service instead of worshiping.

I suspect I’m not alone in this. Too often I think the problem is the service itself. Rarely do I focus on my self rather than locating the problem in a million other things over which I have no control. Worship is as much about my attitude as it is about the liturgy in which I’m participating—or refusing to participate… It’s easy to spend the 60+ minutes brooding over what I didn’t like than feasting on the words of eternal life that were offered.

Also, if I spend the whole service expecting to be inspired, moved, empowered, fed, or energized in some obvious or glorious way by the simple trappings of the liturgy (the “praise band,” the organ, the preacher, the sacraments, the hymns, the prelude, etc.) then I am sure to be disappointed. A God who makes himself known in a manger bed, as a carpenter’s son, as the One who dies a criminal’s death on a cross is not a God who reveals himself in the obvious or the glorious (by human standards). He comes to us as one unknown, unexpected and mysterious.

My worship is worked out in relationship—to God and to the neighbor. Being open to the proclamation of the Word in foreign and unexpected ways requires a humble heart. Being willing to participate in worship fully for the sake of the other requires a certain death to self, putting my own wants and desires aside and participating in something I may not like, solely out of love for the brother or sister in Christ who sits beside me in the pew. The trappings of worship, regardless of style or appearance, are simply tools provided for me for the working out of my own worship on Sunday morning. They are the steps for the ballet, the 60+ minute dance with the Lord of the Dance that I am invited into by the host of the wedding feast. My spiritual attitude will determine how freely and joyfully I will enter into it.

Instead of focusing on how “good” the service was or how well I “liked” or “disliked” it, I will seek to focus on how well I worshiped, knowing that I alone am responsible for the “goodness” of my worship.

Children's Choir

2011-10-17T15:43:00.004-05:00

What is the point of a children's choir? It sounds flippant, but I actually believe it to be a hugely important question.

I had the opportunity over the summer to take a two-week long class at St. Thomas University on the Orff Schulwerk approach to music education. The program's information is here, and you can find more information about Orff-based music education here. It was a great program - exhausting, too.

Orff is a fairly loose approach to music education; music-reading skills are not overtly taught, nor is performance a big deal. Rather, children are encouraged to experiment and make their own music. Near the end of the class, my fellow students started to ask about endgoals - for example, at what grade level should all of your students be able to clap a rhythm of half- and quarter-notes? So our teacher shared a comprehensive chart that worked through each grade (1-5) and different parts of musicianship (Rhythm, Melody, Harmony, Form/Expression). So for example, our teacher expected that by May, all of her second graders should understand eighth notes through whole notes, be able to sing So, Mi, Re, Do melodic patterns, and be able to play a 2-part canon on the xylophones.

I was intrigued by this. Should I make some goals for my children's choirs? If I did, what would they be? Because my choirs consist of a fairly wide range of ages, I cannot create a chart for each grade level like our teacher did. How to teach basics when I have one child who is a Suzuki recorder prodigy, and other children who have never done anything musical in their lives?

Even more fundamentally, what is the final goal of a children's choir? The purpose of an adult choir seems obvious to me: to lead, teach, encourage, and enhance congregational worship. I'm not sure that this purpose applies to children's choirs. As I thought about it, I realized that I actually have several goals for my children's choir (the older one, grades 3-8)

Learn basic music-readings skills - including sight-singing
Learn texts worth memorizing
Learn music worth learning
Lead worship
Learn about the traditions of the church and the meanings and stories of the church seasons
Have positive, quality musical experiences

Back to my Orff class. One of our teachers works at a private elementary school where she (as the music teacher) sees her kids everyday. That's incredible. People asked her, "Do you have a lot of kids that go on to be music majors?" Her answer was unexpected: "No. We have a lot of kids that go on to be good people." All the music educators with me cheered. In a room surrounded by teachers, I got to thinking: a history teacher's job is not necessarily to create new historians, but to form people who understand history and will improve the world through their understanding. An English teacher's job is not necessarily to raise up the next Shakespeare, but to form people who are able to write well and appreciate literature. Is not a music teacher's job to create, if not musicians, then at least people who understand and appreciate music? And what about church musicians, when engaged in their teaching role?

Is our goal, like Christian Youth Directors, to create well-developed young Christians?
Is our goal, like music teachers, to create young people who appreciate music?

In typical Lutheran fashion, I have to answer "both".

In a later post, I'll talk about how I try to carry out this dual goal.

The Trouble with Tempi

2011-09-30T13:10:00.001-05:00

I suspect we’ve all experienced it: a hymn or song that was too fast, too slow, too mechanical, or too unpredictable in its pace. I’ve encountered stories of pastors grumbling about their organists who refuse to play a hymn faster. I’ve personally experienced the problem of trying to lead a song with drums and guitars, which forces you to be creative about how you leave enough space at the end of the verse or chorus so that the congregation can catch a breath before the repeat. And I’ve struggled to sing hymns accompanied by organists who leave no space between notes so that you can’t tell how fast you’re moving from one note to the next, making it easy for a whole congregation to rush the next beat or fall behind simply because they can’t tell where the organist is at in the hymn. And I’ve tried to sing along with worship bands who play too fast for the acoustics of the space and the group their leading, dragging the assembly along behind them.

Whether it’s “traditional” worship or “contemporary” worship, the trouble with tempi must be addressed. If the song is worth singing, it’s worth considering a tempo that will enable singing with a minimum of frustration.

For example, sing through the first two phrases of “A Mighty Fortress.” Try singing it at a tempo slow enough that the pulse you might tap your foot to is every single note. Now sing it faster, so that the pulse is every other note. Personally, the first one wears me out by the end of the first verse—it makes singing the hymn feel like work! The second is easier; even though the tempo is faster, it feels more relaxed and at ease.

Another issue is that tempo is a fluid and nuanced concept. A tempo that works for “Shout to the Lord” for 10 people in a carpeted room with virtually no reverberation will not be the same tempo needed for “Shout to the Lord” for 300 people in a spacious, hard-surface sanctuary with very live acoustics. The tempo can be faster in the first case because the acoustics aren’t in the way, and a small group can keep up more easily. In the latter case, however, the acoustics make a fast tempo impractical; the 300 voices would be competing with their own sound coming back to them slightly behind the beat they’re on—the space is larger, and the live acoustics will turn 300 voices into a cacophony of sound at too fast of a tempo.

A third issue is breathing; singers need to breathe. A hymn sung too slowly may force people to breathe at unnatural places in the musical phrases; too fast, and people won’t have time to catch even a quick breath between phrases. With contemporary songs accompanied by drums, one doesn’t have the luxury of stretching the time between phrases or verses—the song must keep going and will not wait, which sometimes means adding an extra 2-beat or 4-beat space at the end of a line or verse (this is particularly true if one is “contemporizing” traditional hymns).

Finally, we as musicians need to get our egos out of the way. We sometimes think we know the best tempos (and sometimes we do), but the tempos that work for us to play do not always work for congregations to sing, and the tempo that worked last Sunday for “Be Thou My Vision” may not work the next time. The temperature in the sanctuary may be colder or warmer, there may be more or fewer people, they may sit closer together or father apart, they may be extra tired or alert, the hymn or song may fall earlier or later in the service than last time, and so on. Accompanying for congregational singing is a dance, a give and take between leading and following that happens constantly over the course of a single song, a single verse, or even a single phrase or measure. As musicians, we must be sensitive to the needs of the assembly and the music, and make the occasional sacrifice of personal taste or even stylistic considerations for the sake of the Body.

How have these issues been present in your own context? Have you encountered stubborn musicians who led singing with troublesome tempi? How did you address the issue?

Links for 2010-06-08 [del.icio.us]

2010-06-09T00:00:00-07:00

No Witty Title
Awesome blog about life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.