ARTICLE TOOLS

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In many ways, the Presbyterian mission where I worship looks like any other church. It combines liturgical elements with a traditional praise and preaching structure. In both content and structure it honors gospel proclamation as the centerpiece of corporate worship. Each carefully chosen element of our service and church life gives the church more than just its own unique style—the elements give it an intentional and profitably self-conscious liturgy. But certain elements stand out to a first-time visitor as particularly unique: its mission and vision for the city, its style of church life … its music.

Like it or not, in our entertainment-oriented culture, it's the music that strikes many visitors as a church's most unique feature. My church worships with an eclectic mix of plain-song chant, traditional Reformed hymnody, and Southern Sacred Harp tunes. But we're also known for our willingness to include "secular" folk, pop, and blues songs when appropriate. (After all, given the strong Reformed tradition of common grace, why shouldn't Bob Dylan have something to say to the church?)

If you ask typical American churchgoers to describe the way they worship, some people will talk about church life. Some will mention corporate worship (worshiping with a body of believers) or the structure of the service: the preaching of the Word, prayer, and Communion. You may even hear about personal or family worship times. But let's face it: When you ask the average person to describe worship, you'll probably hear about the music. After all, it's singing that engages the heart, the mind, and the body, right?

The church worldwide recognizes preaching and prayer as means of worship. It's common to hear people speak of living a life of worship. But the question of how to include the arts—music, drama, visual arts, and dance—has a tendency to strike discord among the people of God. Worship, defined in this more narrow way, sounds the depths of our attempts to reconcile theology with questions of personal taste and cultural diversity. 

Our longing to focus on the artistry of a service speaks to our desire for weightiness in worship, for a sense of divine drama. At the heart of the debate over contemporary vs. traditional worship styles, praise songs or hymns, we find questions about how best to glorify God as the center of our unfolding human story. To this serious end, the worship warriors ask an important question: Whose songs exalt God more?

 If we look to the early church for answers, we may be a bit disappointed. We respect their ability to establish and maintain some of the key institutions of corporate worship, but we have little information about how they used music and the arts in worship. 

As the church grew, changed, and fractured, it developed liturgies—still with us today in one form or another—articulating what it meant to be Orthodox, Catholic, Anglican. The liturgies were designed to turn people to God in mediated, sacramental ways. The Reformers, however, saw many of the liturgical practices as extra-biblical. They moved instead towards the "regulative principle" of worship—whatever is not specifically set out by God in Scripture should not be included in the worship service. 

To some contemporary worshipers, the regulative principle encourages static worship—and boredom in worship is rightly something we all want to avoid. It favors the intellectuals and those with sophisticated training. Actually, the way the principle looks in action will vary widely as it works itself out in real churches. Those who worship with the regulative principle view boredom as a result of being unprepared for worship. They seek a mixture of sobriety and playfulness in their worship that reflects both the tragic and the celebratory elements of the story of redemption.

Proponents of the regulative principle sometimes contend that contemporary worship fails to recognize the drama and excitement laid out in Scripture. The embattled contemporary worship scene has faced charges of being trite, of sacrificing quality for popularity. It's been accused of self-centeredness and too narrow an understanding of what and who benefits from worship. But we shouldn't ignore the fact that contemporary worship carries strong overtones of God's acceptance of the praise of all his people, rich or poor, sophisticated or simple. It offers the opportunity to use the gifts of a greater number of people, acknowledges differing cultural traditions, and often biblically meets the culture on its own territory.

Churches spend much of their time thinking about and planning worship. Individual Christians spend a great deal of time contemplating and living their worship. And we're right to do so. We're called to realize that the choices we make in our worship reveal the ways we think about ourselves in relation to that God. Worship requires our first-fruits—not only of our talents, but of our thoughts as well. As Christians, we should devote time to meditating and studying the appropriate ways to honor God. We're right to think seriously about the ways we worship, and right to acknowledge differences of opinion. As children of God then, let's strive to understand our historical roots and listen to differing perspectives. Let's continue to hear arguments for the appropriate role of music in our worship. Let's pursue an answer to these questions. 

In truth, we'll probably never know with certainty whose songs (or which songs) exalt God most. But it's not our place to decide. Worship should not be a time of fear, of wondering whether or not God will accept our sacrifice. Ultimately, we worship because we're creations, returning thanks to the God who makes and sustains us. The very opportunity to worship, to meet with our Creator, is God's gift to humankind, so let's cherish it and enjoy it. When God is glorified in our worship, we reap the benefits of that joy.

Melody Pugh is a Chicago-based freelance writer and graduate student in the humanities.