This morning in our church service, we sang, a cappella, the old hymn "He Hideth My Soul" whose words were written by Fanny Crosby in 1890...and my soul worshiped. After that, we sang, with instruments accompanying, the song "Ancient Words" which was recorded by Michael W. Smith in 2002...and my soul worshiped.
We did not sing Handel's "Hallelujah Chorus"...but if we had, my soul would have worshiped. We also did not sing "Seu Shearim," a song I loved to sing with the congregation in Israel...but if we had, my soul would have worshiped.
With my education and experience in music, it would maybe be an easy trap for me to fall into, this arrogance that sadly seems to accompany knowledge. I could turn up my nose at modern worship songs because of their repetitive melodies or their simple chord structures. I could disdain some of the "old" hymns of the faith because of their origins as folk songs or bar ditties. I could choose to only sing pieces from "high church." I could reject this or that worship song for any number of reasons, but I WILL NOT.
I refuse to make divisions within the body of Christ, solely on the issue of the 12 notes of the musical scale and the whole notes, half notes, quarter notes, and so forth that go with them. I refuse to set a boundary and declare this style of singing acceptable while this style is not. I refuse to allow pride in any one cultural style of music to make me think less of another style. I refuse to let my personal opinions and preferences sit in the place of judgement.
Why have all these thoughts been roiling around in my head to the point of spewing forth in a Facebook rant? Probably because it wasn't too long ago that I saw an obvious display of musical arrogance in the middle of a worship service, and it made my heart ache. And then I thought of all the disagreements that have happened throughout the history of the church, just because of music; and it suddenly struck me that of all the things to argue about, music would have to rank high on the What a Silly Argument list, right up there with color of carpet in the church building and pews v. chairs.
It's not a new argument, however. Surely every generation, as it grows up, pushes against the music of the former generation and changes/updates it; and surely that former generation peers down at the music of the youth and expresses its disdain. Why do we continue this cycle?
As I've been thinking about this, a remembrance came to my mind of something wonderful my maternal grandmother did. During one of our visits to their home in Pennsylvania, she asked my brother David and I (we were probably junior high age) to teach her a song from church that we liked to sing. As a matter of fact, we may have taught her several; but the one that I specifically remember teaching her and then singing together was Lift Up Your Heads (by Steven Fry, written in 1974, if my online research is correct). Now that may not have been the most contemporary choice at the time, since 1974 was two years before I was even born! :) I suppose we could have really stretched her ability to relate to the younger generation by pulling out one of the songs from Petra Praise or something like that. ;-) But for whatever reason, we chose Lift Up Your Heads, and she learned it from us and sang it with us. What humility! She didn't tell us the beat was too strong, or that the tune was no good, or that we should stop singing that and instead sing How Firm a Foundation (written in the 1700s). Instead she built a bridge between her generation and ours, and love and respect walked over it. I want to be like her.
Oh, Lord, thank You that You look beyond the notes we sing to the spirits that dwell within us. May our hearts be filled with humility as we worship you through music, no matter what particular piece we're singing. And Lord, one more thing: when I am an old lady, help me humbly and joyfully ask my grandchildren to teach me a new song of worship to You...and no matter what it sounds like, help me smile as we sing it together. :)
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