Thesis 10: Oh, to Sing Our Faith Again

Oh, to Sing Our Faith Again

Another service, another passive hour in the pews where I don’t sing a word, another lost week of song. I feel conspicuous, and yet there are lots of us abstainers, mumblers, or lip-syncers. I tell myself I don’t like singing. I’m in holy company.

I wonder how we managed to completely unlearn the art of collective song.

I grew up in a conservative sect that believed that the most appropriate instrument for Church was the pipe organ. Despite its decidedly un-biblical origins, only the Almighty Organ was worthy of being heard alongside hymns or the choir.

Until it wasn’t. First the piano — previously only permitted for children’s songs or choir practice — found its way onto the dais and took over a few songs. Next came acoustic guitars and violins, along with the occasional trumpet. Then came bongos and drums and basses and electric guitars. The organ grew dusty and got moved to the balcony. The piano took up too much room, unlike those snazzy new keyboards, and was shuffled to the side. Power outlets and sound jacks were added, mixing boards appeared at the back, and amps appeared on walls.

The singing tried to keep up, but what are dusty hymnals compared to projectors and PowerPoint? What is sheet music to fancy sans-serif projections? What can hymns hold to peppy and joyous praise and worship music? What is the human voice in the face of all that amplified sound?

It’s nothing. It can’t compete.

You’ve heard the old-timers lament about lost singing, the depth of hymns and spirituals, the raw power of collective singing. You might agree, disagree, nod along… but it doesn’t matter. Even that “lost” voice was never given a chance. We erased the power of song when churches moved from small, home gatherings to large halls, to choirs, to praise bands. When the word and faith became a one-way idea, where we line up in chairs or pews, all facing in one direction, and let musicians treat worship as a gig.

Meanwhile, song in the Bible is a spontaneous, holy mess. Think of the Hebrews singing after being delivered from Pharaoh’s army. Deborah’s victory hymn. Paul and Silas’s prison songs. Prostitutes wandering the streets, singing. Circling cities und making cacophonous song until the fucking walls fell down.

Prostitutes, y’all. Walls falling. Chains and bars. And nary a cathedral or megachurch in sight.

What we have now, especially in churches that have gone electric and digital, is no more collective voice than a stadium full of Taylor Swift fans yelling at their idol is collective. This is no knock against Taylor — her songwriting is better than 99% of the drivel that gets blasted at us in church — but an indictment of our own expectations.

At church, we should expect that our songs will be as one, to be received by God as a love-offering with every emotion on full display. Rich, nuanced, literate, raw. What we have instead is dissonance and mindless, bubblegum repetition where we can’t hear ourselves think much less commune with the Almighty. We should expect to sing everywhere about everything, not just be blasted by silly tunes that are deadened by church walls and insulation.

Church as we know it — i.e. the pagan-influenced, corruption-laced, power grab it’s become — can’t sing, can’t create song, can’t inspire sacred music because it isn’t biblical (or even Christian in many cases). The very thing we know as Church has been created by humans to destroy the communal voice, because the communal voice demands we face each other and sing together. In quiet, private spaces like homes and places of work, in small numbers, as the faithful gather in humble fellowship.

Church kills authentic song. Which is fascinating because even as it tries to update its voice to bring new life into itself, Church itself is dying. Sure, lots of nice stories exist about growing churches here or there, but statistics show clearly that critical folk are fleeing Church in droves. The gangrene has spread too far. Only the maggots are still seething, and they’ll leave as soon as there’s no more dead flesh to consume.

Good. Let the concert of mindlessness continue to be Church’s death-rattle. Let us sing somewhere else.

Keywords: Oh, to Sing Again; Faith; Deconstruction; Religion; Christian; Christianity; Church; Sin; Corruption; Scandal; Bible; Abuse; God; Jesus; Stewardship; praise and worship; music; song; singing