Worship Musings: Faith-full Singing
To sing or not to sing? This is the question that I see a lot of people wrestling with on Sundays. Anthropologists tell us that virtually all cultures sing, and that singing is "natural". Most kids love music and happily add in their voice. My son makes up songs about everything: doughnuts, crayons, even the word "no". But as we get older, self-consciousness sets in, and our singing seems to get more reserved. We are more aware of how we sound in comparison to others rather than how it feels to put our heart's thoughts and emotions to song. Now, our most common interactions with music in our culture are mostly passive: turning on our ipods, going to a concert, listening to a soundtrack in a movie; none of these involve our participation. However, since my role on Sunday is to lead singing, I did a little math. If I live another 50 years, and go to church once a week, I'll be singing 2600 more times in my life for about 91,000 minutes. That's almost 63 days of continuous singing! So, even though our age and our culture are helping us be "out of practice" by the time we walk into the ballroom on Sunday mornings, the act of singing will still play a big part in our lives. (Or we will be expending a lot of energy to try to get out it!) So, I thought I'd address some common hurdles that I've heard expressed about singing in worship, in hopes that we can all be life-long learners of worship together.
"Dude, I can't sing"
I see a lot of people, men in particular, waiting the musical part of worship out because they think they can't sing. And culturally, it makes sense. We're long past the days where mom's at the piano and dad leads the younguns' in "oldies but goodies" in 4 part harmony. But, the word appears 122 times in the bible, many times in the form of a command "Sing to the Lord a new song!" There are a lot of reasons to press through our inadequacies and belt out a song. But because I believe that the gospel is "good news" only in the context of the culture it presents itself in, here's what I think is the best reason for us all to sing: we hear a lie daily from our Valley culture that says you are only as good as what you earn, and what you accomplish. It's only the best, most innovative, most skilled that get the credit around here, and you've got to prove yourself worthy. It's in everything from paychecks to getting your child in the right pre-school. So, when we come to worship the Lord of the upside down Kingdom, singing out in your best tone-deaf wail is a prophetic reclaiming of the truth - You are loved not for what you do, but because you are His Child, and therefore an heir in the kingdom. Nothing we do can earn the favor of God, and instead of the shame we anticipate, God longs to extend to you his delight and the blessings of integrating your heart and your mind in prayer. Think of the widow who offered only 2 coins in worship. Jesus remarked on the extravagance of her gift, not because he compared her amount to others, but because he saw the clarity of her heart, and that she had given out of her poverty. The truth is that no one in this Valley really wants to hear your voice unless you've won American Idol. No one except the One who gave you your voice in the first place. So, next Sunday, fly in the face of evil with the simple of act of bold and unashamed singing. We sing to an audience of One, and He's guaranteed to be pleased.
"I don't feel like singing"
We all want to worship faithfully and authentically, and somehow it just feels wrong if you sing when you don't feel the words that are on the screen. You feel like a poser. So, you wait and wonder where is God in all this? Is he even here? Do I wait for the right kind of music so that my faith can be substantiated? Should I look for another church hoping that there my faith will be fed? Music, faith and feelings are all wrapped up very closely together and it gets pretty confusing which is which.
We all want to worship by faith. Worshiping by faith means living by faith and living by faith means worshiping by faith. The two are a seamless strand. Worship hasn't begun in us because we have pushed the faith button any more than our faith is started because we have pushed the worship button. In Hebrews 11:1 it says that "faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." Notice that faith "is". Faith is itself substance and evidence. Even in the absence of the things we hope for, faith is. So what does this have to do with our emotions and singing?
Music is a very powerful conduit and solicitor of our hearts. It is very easy to think that when we hear the music we like, the power and rush of the music is what brings substance and evidence to my faith. Rock music makes me feel good, so I sing whole heartedly that God is good, which means I must really believe that God is good. So I leave the morning feeling like I really worshipped. The problem with this idea is that God did not promise that music would be a sacramental substance that would mediate between Himself and us. It's not like the communion elements, where we find strength for the journey in eating Christ's body and blood. It's just a tool. Music in itself has no power to increase faith. Only God does that. So therefore what builds our faith, and builds our worship is to surrender to God's goodness and remember his saving act of love through Jesus. When we sing about how incredibly awesome God is, how unlike He is to us and our ways, we worship in growing faith. So no matter how you feel about the music, or about any other part of the service, you always have the power to turn to the Lord, submitting your heart to Him and asking for His guidance. Our faith is never at the mercy of circumstance, even "musical circumstances". So, sing, however you feel, believing that the mystery of God is growing a faith in you apart from your feelings. Abraham, the guy to whom faith is attributed to in Hebrews 11, lives his whole life never seeing or feeling the fulfillment of the promise that God gave him. And yet he lived a life of constant worship, a life surrendered and intimate with His God. May that be true of each of us, as our stories are told to the next generation!