The following post originally appeared on April 24, 2006
I grew up in the church singing hymns, but occasionally I will be singing a hymn that I know by heart and “hear” it for the first time. This happened to me today.
O victory in Jesus,
My Savior, forever.
He sought me and bought me
With His redeeming blood;
He loved me ere I knew Him,
And all my love is due Him,
He plunged me to victory,
Beneath the cleansing flood.
He loved me ere I knew Him. Before I was ever born, Jesus loved me.
I love the old hymns. And I love contemporary worship music is well. This makes me an oddity, because unless you’ve been asleep for the last twenty years, you may have noticed that some Christians are taking bitter sides over this issue. Yes, over songs.
I was starting to think that the storm had finally passed, but this essay by Chuck Colson in Christianity Today showed me that I was wrong. Mr. Colson writes:
I admit I prefer traditional hymns, but even so, I'm convinced that much of the music being written for the church today reflects an unfortunate trend—slipping across the line from worship to entertainment. Evangelicals are in danger of amusing ourselves to death, to borrow the title of the classic Neil Postman book.
I don’t want to take his words too far out of context, because the point he is making has more to do with the lack of solid in teaching in many churches. In this regard, I have to agree with him. I also have to admit that the song he objected to, “Draw Me Close to You,” is not a shining example of a great song.
But one of the most common arguments I hear about contemporary worship songs is their supposed lack of theological content. The old hymns, they argue, share great truths about Scripture. The new songs, degradingly referred to as “Jesus is my boyfriend songs” (meaning that they are indistinguishable from your typical pop love song), do not.
That may be true of “Draw Me Close to You,” but not all songs. Let’s look at the lyrics to “In Christ Alone” by Stuart Townsend:
In Christ alone my hope is found
He is my light, my strength, my song
This Cornerstone, this solid ground
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm
What heights of love, what depths of peace
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease
My Comforter, my All in All
Here in the love of Christ I stand
In Christ alone, who took on flesh
Fullness of God in helpless babe
This gift of love and righteousness
Scorned by the ones He came to save
‘Til on that cross as Jesus died
The wrath of God was satisfied
For every sin on Him was laid
Here in the death of Christ I live
There in the ground His body lay
Light of the world by darkness slain
Then bursting forth in glorious Day
Up from the grave He rose again
And as He stands in victory
Sin’s curse has lost its grip on me
For I am His and He is mine
Bought with the precious blood of Christ
No guilt in life, no fear in death
This is the power of Christ in me
From life’s first cry to final breath
Jesus commands my destiny
No power of hell, no scheme of man
Can ever pluck me from His hand
‘til He returns or calls me home
Here in the power of Christ I’ll stand
I’m not sure what people are looking for as far as theological content goes, but if a person could learn those lyrics, they’d have a good start.
And just because a song is an old hymn, doesn’t mean it contains nuggets of theology. “Little Brown Church in the Dale” conveys about as much spiritual truth as “The Old Oaken Bucket.” And I’ve always thought that “In the Garden” could just as easily be a song about meeting a lover as meeting with the Lord in prayer.
These are, granted, “newer” old hymns. But I doubt Mr. Colson would have felt compelled to shout out objections and disrupt his church’s service had the song leader wanted to repeat “In the Garden.”
It’s time for people to be honest with themselves and each other. Some people prefer certain kinds of music. That’s fine. But declaring one form of music superior to another just because it’s older (or newer) is unfair. Every era of Christian music has its clunkers. But each era has its gems as well.
So while I’m on my pulpit, let me bring in some scripture.
Acts 16:22-25
About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the other prisoners were listening to them.
Paul and Silas had been flogged, placed in stocks, and put in jail. This was not the pristine holding cell of “The Andy Griffith Show,” but a first century prison. It was dirty. There was no indoor plumbing. They had open sores along their backs, and it’s quite unlikely that they had received any sort of medical treatment. And yet they sang praises to God.
Can we do that? Is our worship that sincere and independent of our circumstances?
Or our are we so busy trying to justify our personal preferences that we completely miss the point?
|