The music I grew up with was really eclectic.
In our home, we listened to a little bit of everything—early CCM, classic rock, country, and whatever else my dad enjoyed and we came to love.
Church, however, was a very different musical world.
We were in a sacred/classical music environment with piano, organ, orchestra, choir, and even a handbell choir occasionally. Nothing contemporary was even permissible in this environment. I played saxophone in the orchestra and for special music and competitions, sang in the choir, rang handbells, occasionally led singing from the pulpit, and even conducted the choir.
I went on to study music in college with hopes of becoming a high-level choral conductor. I just love great choral music! To this day, there is almost nothing more beautiful to me musically than the works of Dan Forrest, Morten Lauridsen, Eric Whitacre, and the like. There is something about a great choir singing great music in a beautiful space that still gets me every time.
But during and after college, I found myself increasingly questioning why this style of music was deemed the only style God was okay with in the circles I was part of. Eventually, the legalism of some of those churches drove me away—not only from those environments, but, frankly, from those styles of music for a while.
The strange thing is that I never stopped loving the music.
I just knew that churches insisting this was the only acceptable musical expression of worship were no longer places where I belonged.
Enter the modern worship band.
I had always enjoyed contemporary music and never really pigeonholed myself into one particular genre, so I decided to learn guitar and keys so I could serve in whatever churches I found myself in over the coming years. Really, I was a singer who wanted to be able to accompany myself and contribute to a worship band however I could.
And I grew to love it.
I love leading modern worship, and to this day it is the musical arena I find myself in most readily. I love a great band. I love electric guitars and drums. I love what can happen when a congregation grabs hold of a song and really sings it together.
But I still love—and sometimes really miss—the world of beautiful classical, concert, and sacred repertoire I’ve experienced over the years.
Which leaves me with a question I still haven’t completely answered:
Why do these musical worlds so often seem juxtaposed in the Church?
Can’t beautiful music in all its different forms “work” in church?
I think this is something I’ll probably always wrestle with and seek to incorporate in some way. I don’t think every church needs an orchestra. I don’t think every church needs electric guitars. I don’t think every congregation needs to sing the newest worship songs, nor do I think every congregation needs to preserve a particular musical tradition simply because it’s the tradition they’ve inherited.
Every church develops its own worship language. Some musical expressions will naturally serve a particular congregation better than others. That’s okay. In fact, part of leading people well is knowing the people you’re actually leading rather than trying to turn them into some other church.
But I also wonder if we sometimes let our musical language become our musical limitation.
What I don’t wrestle with nearly as much is what we’re singing. Whatever genre we use, our lyrics should be scriptural and gospel-centered. Whatever musical language we speak, I think it’s worth offering it thoughtfully and skillfully. Those convictions seem much more important to me than whether the instruments involved happen to be an organ and choir or electric guitars and drums.
And maybe expanding our musical diet every once in a while could actually be good for us.
Maybe the modern worship church could benefit from hearing the beauty and theological weight of music written long before any of us arrived. Maybe the traditional church could discover something valuable in a song written six months ago. Maybe a choir can do something a worship band can’t—and maybe a worship band can do something a choir can’t.
Maybe that’s where I’ve landed after all these years:
I don’t really want to choose.
I want the beauty of a great choir. I want the power of a congregation singing an old hymn. I want the energy of a great band. I want songs the Church has sung for centuries and songs that someone hasn’t even written yet.
Not necessarily all on the same Sunday, of course. That could get weird.
But perhaps the incredible variety of musical expression available to the Church is something to receive rather than something to fear.
I’ll keep playing with this for now. Maybe one day I’ll be closer to knowing exactly what to do with it. 🙂
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