By George Clifford
Recently, I’ve participated in, or overheard, several conversations about church music. A well-known, respected authority on Episcopal liturgy openly declined to attend Morning Prayer at a conference we both attended because the service included Taizé music. These experiences evoked memories of conversations in my former parish between parishioners who wanted a variety of contemporary music (Taizé, jazz, guitars, praise choruses, etc.) and those who wanted only traditional music (i.e., classical, chant, or from the 1982 Hymnal).
By way of confession and disclaimers, although I don’t like to sing I do enjoy listening to music, especially classical, jazz, and sacred music. I suspect that I’m far from alone in not enjoying singing. I grew up in a home in which people did not sing.
Occasionally, somebody in the household would listen to recorded music on either a large record player or tabletop radio. But mostly music was not part of my childhood. However, I frequently attend symphony concerts, often listen to classical music at home or while working, and particularly enjoy hearing sacred music played on a good organ or performed by competent musicians.
In retrospect, I realize that I grew up in a transitional time. Before Edison, music always entailed a live performance. When people wanted music, they generally had to make it themselves. Except for a small number of wealthy people who could afford to employ their own musicians, an opportunity to hear professional performers was a rare treat.
Beginning with the development of first recorded music in the late nineteenth century and then the transistor radio in the 1950s, music became increasingly accessible and portable. Today, amateur musicians in almost every possible venue (I’ve even seen a shower with a built-in radio) have to compete with the availability of music performed by professionals accessed via the internet, an iPod, or numerous other electronic devices.
A music historian might helpfully revise my thumbnail sketch of that transition, but in broad outline, western society (perhaps the whole world) has transitioned from people who had to make their own music to people who can enjoy the best music of others on demand.
So what might this transition imply for The Episcopal Church (TEC) and its worship?
First, our expectation that worship attendees sing, is, apart from worship, an unusual, often unique, expectation in twenty-first century America. In other settings, people typically consume rather than perform music. Many of the tunes used in our worship are at least a century old and the lyrics are often older. In short, people are unlikely to be familiar with the music unless they regularly attend worship for decades.
Consequently, the singing in most worshiping congregations – based on the anecdotal evidence of personal observation and conversation with others – is desultory; more than a few attendees either sing perfunctorily or not at all. Familiar service music, used almost every week, probably constitutes the most common exception to that generalization. Even in a congregation where people actually lift their voices in praise and worship, careful observation usually reveals a sizable minority who, if they participate, do so less than enthusiastically.
Second, teaching our hymnody and music is becoming progressively more difficult because relatively few Americans read music. Their ranks are swelling as public schools reduce or eliminate music education programs in the face of severe financial constraints. If doubtful about the veracity of this assessment, observe a congregation struggle with an unfamiliar hymn that requires an ability to read music in order to follow the text correctly.
Third, our music, unlike our spoken liturgy, less and less resembles the “lingua franca,” i.e., today’s music. This shift departs from our Anglican heritage in which worship music married classic and contemporary lyrics with both popular secular tunes and contemporary sacred compositions. Compounding this problem, scriptural allusions in the lyrics, once familiar to most people, are increasingly unintelligible to a people for whom the Bible is a strange and unfamiliar text.
Fourth, some Episcopalians and others, individuals like me, are dinosaurs who appreciate the traditional music found in most Episcopal congregations. The demand for this type of music has not completely disappeared, although the growing scarcity of organists is an ill omen for its future. Done well, traditional church music fills an important niche. However, too often we dinosaurs decide which music to use, unintentionally (at least I hope it’s unintentional) leaving people unfamiliar with our music, or who prefer a different style of music, feeling marginalized or even unwanted.
Fifth, perhaps most importantly for a denomination concerned about its dwindling numbers, non-traditional church music speaks to many twenty-first century Americans with an emotional attraction and power they do not experience with traditional church music. Contrary to the impression I have sometimes received in Episcopal settings, we do not worship our music; our music is in fact intended to assist us in our worship of God. Again relying on anecdotal evidence, a substantial majority of rapidly growing megachurches utilize non-traditional music in their worship services. As much as the idea makes me uncomfortable, perhaps many Episcopal congregations should emulate the musical practices in some of these rapidly growing congregations.
Let me hasten to add three suggestions. First, much contemporary “Christian” music (e.g., most praise choruses) are insipid and vapid. We Episcopalians are an intelligent, godly people. Let’s borrow tunes (legally!) and then write our own words. We Episcopalians also have some great musicians. Let’s compose new, catchy tunes with good words.
Second, let’s recover the time-honored practice of adapting contemporary secular music for use in worship, marrying style and tune to sound theology. There’s nothing inherently profane about rap, hip hop, country and western, or any other style of music (regardless of how much I might wish that were not true!).
Third, the hymnal era is rapidly ending, probably has already ended. Almost twenty years ago, I chaired the Logistics Advisory Group of the Department of Defense Armed Forces Chaplains Board (the Board consists of the Chiefs and Deputy Chiefs of Chaplains from the U.S. Army, Navy, and Air Force). The Armed Forces Book of Worship (BOW), the hymnal and worship book published for use in the U.S. armed forces, was out of stock. We recommended against republishing it and the Board agreed. The first reason for our recommendation, not germane to the Episcopal Church, the growing variety of religious groups represented among military personnel (200+ Christian groups, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Baha’i, Hindus, Wiccans, etc.) made preparing an inclusive resource impossible. The other two reasons for our recommendation are pertinent to Episcopalians. No way exists to incorporate new music into a printed resource; the constantly growing stream of new music would make a new BOW out of date almost before publication. Equally significant, increasing numbers of youthful worshipers preferred songs projected on a screen to holding a hymnal.
Two hundred years ago, denominational hymnody functioned as a unifying and educational force that transcended parish lines. Today, the church faces a stark choice. We can persist in mandating the music that I love, congratulate ourselves on holding to tradition and consistency, and watch our numbers continue to decline. Alternatively, we can embrace present reality, accepting (even if begrudgingly!) that new styles of music speak to many twenty-first century people in a way that traditional music does not and that projection is replacing printed resources. I believe that the second alternative, done well (and of course we Episcopalians do everything well), is the only viable choice that encourages growth both in numbers and spiritual depth.
George Clifford, a priest in the Diocese of North Carolina, served as a Navy chaplain for twenty-four years, is now a visiting professor of ethics and public policy at the Naval Postgraduate School, and blogs at Ethical Musings (http://blog.ethicalmusings.com/).