I don’t know if you know this about me, but I am an avid Jesus-worshipper. I’m in a Christian worship band that leads worship at my church every week, and am also the Worship Director on our Mission Board (or you might call it a board of directors). Because of this, I’ve had the awesome opportunity to dialogue with many people about what worship is in general, what it is to me personally, and the “climate” of worship in our world.
A well-meaning person printed off an article by Thom Schultz for me to read and placed it in my church mailbox last Sunday. Before you continue reading this, take a look at the article first, so you can see where I’m jumping off from.
Note that I will be using the terms “traditional” and “contemporary” throughout this post – neither are meant in a negative way, it’s just easier to use those terms in a description.
First off, let’s all just admit that we live in a consumerist society — rightly or wrongly, people will not buy a product, accept a philosophy, attend an event, etc. unless it caters to something they need or want. So if they find church in the traditional sense (old hymns, organists, 45min sermons, uncomfortable pews) to be boring or unfulfilling, they just won’t go. Please understand, there is just as much spiritual food to be gotten out of services like this as contemporary services — those churches still exist, with quite large congregations. But let me tell you, I’ve grown up in church my entire life, and if this was my only option as to the type/genre of worship service to attend, I probably wouldn’t go either. At least not as often. This type of older, traditional, historical service feels forced and regimented in my heart — there are much more heartfelt ways for me to express my worship and adoration for Jesus, even if it’s in my car on my way to work in the morning.
“Contemporary” churches came about, I believe, to meet a need. A desperate need. People needed to reconnect with their faith again. They needed to fall in love with worship music again. I can vividly remember the first time I heard contemporary worship music – I was 11 years old, and it was Shout To the Lord, Darlene Zscheck style. It was incredible to my 11-year-old brain that church could incorporate music I liked, and would actually listen to! (And there a passion for worship teams was born – 2 years later I joined my first worship band and have never looked back.)
Secondly, we all know that excitement is contagious — but different people express their excitement in different ways. My wondering is how does the author of the above article feel he is qualified to judge how engaged people are solely based on whether or not they are singing along, or mirroring the enthusiasm of the musicians on the platform? Simply put — he’s not. We have no idea of the state of a person’s heart; only God knows. Actually, this is a great segue into a personal anecdote.
A couple of years ago, on a holiday weekend, our church was packed. People were shoulder to shoulder in the pews. During our worship team set, I looked out at the congregation and I saw an entire pew of people (a couple of whom I knew, but a few who were strangers), sitting all together, not standing, not singing along, and looking like they had completely checked out. My mind was going a mile a minute (“What if they hate this song?” “What if they hate our style?” “What if it’s too loud?” “They’re never coming back here again”). After the service, I was approached by one of the women in that pew. She introduced herself, shook my hand, and thanked me. She said she had never been in the presence of God like she had that morning. Her family wasn’t from the area, and had come into town for the week to attend a wedding. Her mother was a regular attender at our church, so they had all come together on that morning. Her teenage daughter was standing with her, and apparently had whispered to her mother, after our set was over, that if her mother could find a church with “music like this” in her own town, she would never miss a Sunday. Do I take any credit for that? None. None whatsoever. It wasn’t the work of me or my team — it was purely the work of God in that place on that morning. But if I hadn’t stopped to speak with them, I would’ve chalked it up to just a few more people who didn’t care and who were completely checked out.
As far as the other points in the article, I have the following responses.
Professionalism – the risk when music is not of a semi-professional calibre is that it becomes a distraction, and instead of fervently worshipping, you can’t stop looking at the drummer who continues to drop his sticks, and you can’t stop hearing the keyboard player who sounds like she wore boxing gloves to church that morning. It’s really about my utmost for His highest … Jesus deserves nothing less than my best, and if my best is professional sounding music, what’s the problem?
Blare – granted, you didn’t intend to come to a rock show that morning; you intended to come to church. So I will give him that — worship bands need qualified sound technicians to keep everything sounding balanced, and even a bit understated.
Music choice – it never fails: whenever we try to move forward, someone is always slamming the brakes so hard you can hear the tires squealing. If you can sing along to a song you’ve only heard a few times on the radio, you can sing along to most modern worship songs. Some of them are a bit tricky to sing, but if you had any idea how much backlash I heard the first time I introduced 
“How Great Is Our God” on a Sunday morning, you’d wonder why we ever sung it again. Now it’s a classic, and a favourite at our church. Sure, some songs are easier learned than others, but it’s possible to learn them all. And when in doubt, focus on the lyrics. Are they God-centered? God-loving? God-feared? If yes, it’s appropriate, and lovely. End of story.
Anyway, I think I’ve rambled on enough. Of course Mr. Schultz is entitled to his opinion, and this isn’t a personal attack on him or any of his writings. It’s not an attack on anyone. It just seems that this topic is everywhere, and everyone has an opinion, and I don’t understand why we can’t just be. I don’t understand why we can’t just worship instead of focusing on the politics and the A/V and the song choice and how much the singer is jumping up and down (or not).
Matt Redman still said it best, even years later:
A song in itself is not what You have required / You search much deeper within
In Him,
J
The Story of Us 