How Can I Keep From Singing...
I've been waiting to write this post for about two years now. I'm so glad I waited.
I have a confession to make, and it's a doozy. It may reap some judgment, and there may be a few of you who think I'm exaggerating. But here it goes.
I have not truly worshiped with the worship music in our church in like...ever.
I was going to insert a finite amount of time in there, but when I started to think about it, the moments that I can remember my guard being down and being able to focus only on Jesus during the music portion of our service in the nearly twenty years I've been a member I could probably count on one hand.
This is not to say I have not worshiped. Hardly. Every week has been an encouragement and a conviction when it comes to Scripture, preaching, teaching, fellow believers, and service. But ironically, the part of church that contained music was sort of set aside for me.
This is not to say that worship was impossible during the music. Again, hardly. But I don't think I'm your average person when it comes to musical expectation.
Music is my thing, ya know? Everybody has a thing--an area of "expertise". Technically, I'm not an expert at music. I can barely read it--just enough to follow along actually. I can't tell you what key songs are in unless it's written at the top of the music. After two years of piano lessons, I never progressed very far. My teacher would always want me to count while I played, and I'd look at her like she was nuts because to me, math does not belong with music. The black and white of music is lost on me. But singing, harmonizing, and feeling music have always been easy for me. When I was about seven, I'd sit in my room and sing, trying to reach all the notes that Sandi Patty did or finding the harmony with Carman. I'd make every effort to match my sound to what I heard. I started singing in church, and then in choirs and vocal groups in junior high and highschool. There was never a time when I wasn't really involved in singing. And after thirty years of practice and teaching, I can definitely say that if I had to choose any job in the world, it would be musician. (This paragraph was incredibly hard to write without sounding like I had a giant ego. But, I guess egos and musicians tend to come hand in hand. Further proof I'm a musician. ;)
I grew up in the age of contemporary Christian music, and I was just getting serious about music when "praise bands" started popping up everywhere. Every youth event or camp I ever went to had a praise band and featured contemporary praise songs mixed in with revamps of old hymns. Praise music became part of my blood. For one thing, praise music is incredibly easy if you already have an ear. It is repetitive and basic with simple harmonies. And most of the songs present incredibly awesome biblical truths in a way that resonates with me. It's really easy for me to feel praise music.
But there was one place praise music just wasn't clicking for me, and that was in my church.
For about seven years, my church has been trying, and to many they were successful in incorporating praise songs into the worship service. Eventually, there was a full band accompanying the piano and organ. Contemporary songs started popping up everywhere. There was effort there to have a diverse blend of music and to embrace praise songs in our worship.
Every single week was a struggle for me. It was like if a history professor read a history book, and all the dates were off by one day. Or a chef tasted food that was missing a vital ingredient. The music was just off, and for me, as one who had spent hours of my life singing these very songs, it was incredibly distracting. I would try to sing them the way I was familiar with them, the way the artists sang them, the way all the other praise bands I'd ever heard sang them, and I just couldn't make it match.
It wasn't that Jesus wasn't present, it was that I knew in my very being what it could sound like, what it was supposed to sound like, and it just wasn't there. The point of praise songs is to make it easy for your average joe to be able to sing along, and that just wasn't happening. The music was hard.
I felt so guilty, so petty. I felt like I should be able to rise above it and sing anyway. I'd try to just close my eyes and sing, but it was even harder to follow along when that happened. I tried to focus on the words, but it was like trying to read a book during a Kiss concert. It just wasn't working for me.
Eventually, I gave up trying.
I came to the point where I decided that my musical worship for the most part would just not be found at church, and that was going to have to be okay.
Unfortunately, though, I think I developed a reputation among those in leadership at church as being a pot stirrer throughout the years. I've made every effort to stay involved in the music program despite my inability to mesh with it, mostly because I have to sing. It's like breathing, I don't really get a choice. And during all those years, there were times I let my discontent be known. Other times, I tried to help correct the mistakes, but I always felt like it was falling on deaf ears and that I was a royal pita for pointing out that something was wrong. Sometimes, I wanted to leave because I felt useless, but I knew that was a selfish reason to do anything. Needless to say, I was frustrated, and I felt like those in charge were frustrated with me.
But, I can say without hesitation that I'm glad I stayed involved.
Sometimes, evangelical churches have a hard time with change. And when I say sometimes, I mean always. There are times I appreciate it and times I find it incredibly frustrating. Our pastor likes to say that we don't want to be a ship that veers in course so suddenly that we lose some deck chairs in the turn. And I can appreciate that. Change should be for a reason and we should strive to include everyone and honor God in it. But I always feel like if deck chairs are falling off because of little changes then those chairs were bound to fall off regardless. A strong wind could take them. We should make every effort to have good sturdy rails, but in reality, some chairs are just looking for a reason to jump ship. And on the other hand, if chairs are bolted down, they ain't goin' anywhere.
If I am honest, I sometimes wondered why nobody seemed too worried about losing my deck chair.
But I knew I was bolted down and it would take a literal act of God to move me. And though I felt like the leadership couldn't see what was wrong with the music and they didn't understand why it took people so long to catch on to new songs, I resigned myself to sticking with it. I had been a part of the program when the personalities in charge were incredibly stubborn and hard to work with, and in the last seven years or so, that has not been the case. The man in charge of the music in that time has been a breath of fresh air, and even though I rarely agreed with his interpretation of praise music, I knew that he was incredibly talented and incredibly gracious and pleasant at the same time. He (and his crew) have put together the most amazing Christmas programs I have ever been involved in. He's absolutely the best orchestral leader ever to walk through our church. He's not all "my way or the highway" about music. He's a genuine, good guy and made it easier to be a part of the program.
So, I want to be clear that it was never his lack of musical talent that made praise music hard to follow. It was probably the opposite--he was overqualified! He's a classically trained musician, and praise music is written for those of us with talent but no skill. And anybody who knows church music knows that when they write down praise music, it's never quite accurate. That's because so much of praise songs is meant to be interpreted, not literal. They're easy going and fluid, not usually following the rules of written music. You're supposed to feel it, not read it.
Well, as it does at my church, change came sloooooooooowly, although, those in charge probably thought it was fast. Perspective. But, for the past few weeks, the vocal leadership has been passed on to our fearless leader's son in law, someone who went to college for music and teaches music and not just any music, but praise music. Someone from my generation who grew up listening to these songs and knows them in his soul. There has also been a move to include more musicians, both vocal and instrumental, in the song service each week. And let me tell ya, it's been fantastic. I'm not faking it anymore. I feel free, like I can close my eyes and not have to pay attention to where things are going. I'm not distracted by the music anymore. It's just me and Jesus there, and I'm singing to him and he's teaching me truth in what I'm singing. And I don't think it's just me. We have introduced two songs to the congregation and they have picked them up in a snap, because we aren't overthinking it or making it hard anymore. You don't really have to work hard for people to sing along. You don't have to slow down the tempo, repeat it a million times or hand out sheet music. All you really need to do is lead with confidence, and people follow.
And now I'm looking at those in the audience and seeing their smiles and their eyes closed and hands raised and tears on their cheeks, and my carnal side wants to say "See? See? It IS possible!" It's like I've always known it could be this way and now it finally is this way and I want to do sloppy cartwheels down the aisles. I feel like I'm finally free to musically worship at church, and you may or may not have an idea of how amazing it feels. Praise God.
So, what's the lesson here? Well, firstly, that you should always listen to Sethswife's musical opinions.
Ha. Hardly.
No, the real lesson is that patience is rewarded. That sometimes, silence is golden. That when I let my ego control me, I get frustrated. That putting aside my desires for a time is not really that huge of a sacrifice. That godly people accept change with grace. That it's okay to quietly abstain when you disagree. That I open my mouth a lot more than I should. That it's not all about me, and even if I'm right, it's okay to shut the heck up once in awhile. That talent doesn't mean you always know everything. That when you stick with something, eventually, you'll end up feeling like you actually have a place in God's family, something worth giving to the body of Christ. That being involved is more important than being heard. That my church is filled with some really awesome people that I feel honored to serve musically with.
I could go on and on and on.
But I think I've already done that.
So, I'll just close with thank you's. Thank you to friends and family who encouraged me to get better musically. Thank you to those involved in the music that have heard me complain and loved me anyway. Thank you to the leaders for embracing change. Thank you to everyone who allows me to sing. Thank you to Seth for being who you are musically and not allowing the pressure to make you into something God didn't intend for you to be. And thank you to Jesus most of all, for giving me something to sing about.
I have a confession to make, and it's a doozy. It may reap some judgment, and there may be a few of you who think I'm exaggerating. But here it goes.
I have not truly worshiped with the worship music in our church in like...ever.
I was going to insert a finite amount of time in there, but when I started to think about it, the moments that I can remember my guard being down and being able to focus only on Jesus during the music portion of our service in the nearly twenty years I've been a member I could probably count on one hand.
This is not to say I have not worshiped. Hardly. Every week has been an encouragement and a conviction when it comes to Scripture, preaching, teaching, fellow believers, and service. But ironically, the part of church that contained music was sort of set aside for me.
This is not to say that worship was impossible during the music. Again, hardly. But I don't think I'm your average person when it comes to musical expectation.
Music is my thing, ya know? Everybody has a thing--an area of "expertise". Technically, I'm not an expert at music. I can barely read it--just enough to follow along actually. I can't tell you what key songs are in unless it's written at the top of the music. After two years of piano lessons, I never progressed very far. My teacher would always want me to count while I played, and I'd look at her like she was nuts because to me, math does not belong with music. The black and white of music is lost on me. But singing, harmonizing, and feeling music have always been easy for me. When I was about seven, I'd sit in my room and sing, trying to reach all the notes that Sandi Patty did or finding the harmony with Carman. I'd make every effort to match my sound to what I heard. I started singing in church, and then in choirs and vocal groups in junior high and highschool. There was never a time when I wasn't really involved in singing. And after thirty years of practice and teaching, I can definitely say that if I had to choose any job in the world, it would be musician. (This paragraph was incredibly hard to write without sounding like I had a giant ego. But, I guess egos and musicians tend to come hand in hand. Further proof I'm a musician. ;)
I grew up in the age of contemporary Christian music, and I was just getting serious about music when "praise bands" started popping up everywhere. Every youth event or camp I ever went to had a praise band and featured contemporary praise songs mixed in with revamps of old hymns. Praise music became part of my blood. For one thing, praise music is incredibly easy if you already have an ear. It is repetitive and basic with simple harmonies. And most of the songs present incredibly awesome biblical truths in a way that resonates with me. It's really easy for me to feel praise music.
But there was one place praise music just wasn't clicking for me, and that was in my church.
For about seven years, my church has been trying, and to many they were successful in incorporating praise songs into the worship service. Eventually, there was a full band accompanying the piano and organ. Contemporary songs started popping up everywhere. There was effort there to have a diverse blend of music and to embrace praise songs in our worship.
Every single week was a struggle for me. It was like if a history professor read a history book, and all the dates were off by one day. Or a chef tasted food that was missing a vital ingredient. The music was just off, and for me, as one who had spent hours of my life singing these very songs, it was incredibly distracting. I would try to sing them the way I was familiar with them, the way the artists sang them, the way all the other praise bands I'd ever heard sang them, and I just couldn't make it match.
It wasn't that Jesus wasn't present, it was that I knew in my very being what it could sound like, what it was supposed to sound like, and it just wasn't there. The point of praise songs is to make it easy for your average joe to be able to sing along, and that just wasn't happening. The music was hard.
I felt so guilty, so petty. I felt like I should be able to rise above it and sing anyway. I'd try to just close my eyes and sing, but it was even harder to follow along when that happened. I tried to focus on the words, but it was like trying to read a book during a Kiss concert. It just wasn't working for me.
Eventually, I gave up trying.
I came to the point where I decided that my musical worship for the most part would just not be found at church, and that was going to have to be okay.
Unfortunately, though, I think I developed a reputation among those in leadership at church as being a pot stirrer throughout the years. I've made every effort to stay involved in the music program despite my inability to mesh with it, mostly because I have to sing. It's like breathing, I don't really get a choice. And during all those years, there were times I let my discontent be known. Other times, I tried to help correct the mistakes, but I always felt like it was falling on deaf ears and that I was a royal pita for pointing out that something was wrong. Sometimes, I wanted to leave because I felt useless, but I knew that was a selfish reason to do anything. Needless to say, I was frustrated, and I felt like those in charge were frustrated with me.
But, I can say without hesitation that I'm glad I stayed involved.
Sometimes, evangelical churches have a hard time with change. And when I say sometimes, I mean always. There are times I appreciate it and times I find it incredibly frustrating. Our pastor likes to say that we don't want to be a ship that veers in course so suddenly that we lose some deck chairs in the turn. And I can appreciate that. Change should be for a reason and we should strive to include everyone and honor God in it. But I always feel like if deck chairs are falling off because of little changes then those chairs were bound to fall off regardless. A strong wind could take them. We should make every effort to have good sturdy rails, but in reality, some chairs are just looking for a reason to jump ship. And on the other hand, if chairs are bolted down, they ain't goin' anywhere.
If I am honest, I sometimes wondered why nobody seemed too worried about losing my deck chair.
But I knew I was bolted down and it would take a literal act of God to move me. And though I felt like the leadership couldn't see what was wrong with the music and they didn't understand why it took people so long to catch on to new songs, I resigned myself to sticking with it. I had been a part of the program when the personalities in charge were incredibly stubborn and hard to work with, and in the last seven years or so, that has not been the case. The man in charge of the music in that time has been a breath of fresh air, and even though I rarely agreed with his interpretation of praise music, I knew that he was incredibly talented and incredibly gracious and pleasant at the same time. He (and his crew) have put together the most amazing Christmas programs I have ever been involved in. He's absolutely the best orchestral leader ever to walk through our church. He's not all "my way or the highway" about music. He's a genuine, good guy and made it easier to be a part of the program.
So, I want to be clear that it was never his lack of musical talent that made praise music hard to follow. It was probably the opposite--he was overqualified! He's a classically trained musician, and praise music is written for those of us with talent but no skill. And anybody who knows church music knows that when they write down praise music, it's never quite accurate. That's because so much of praise songs is meant to be interpreted, not literal. They're easy going and fluid, not usually following the rules of written music. You're supposed to feel it, not read it.
Well, as it does at my church, change came sloooooooooowly, although, those in charge probably thought it was fast. Perspective. But, for the past few weeks, the vocal leadership has been passed on to our fearless leader's son in law, someone who went to college for music and teaches music and not just any music, but praise music. Someone from my generation who grew up listening to these songs and knows them in his soul. There has also been a move to include more musicians, both vocal and instrumental, in the song service each week. And let me tell ya, it's been fantastic. I'm not faking it anymore. I feel free, like I can close my eyes and not have to pay attention to where things are going. I'm not distracted by the music anymore. It's just me and Jesus there, and I'm singing to him and he's teaching me truth in what I'm singing. And I don't think it's just me. We have introduced two songs to the congregation and they have picked them up in a snap, because we aren't overthinking it or making it hard anymore. You don't really have to work hard for people to sing along. You don't have to slow down the tempo, repeat it a million times or hand out sheet music. All you really need to do is lead with confidence, and people follow.
And now I'm looking at those in the audience and seeing their smiles and their eyes closed and hands raised and tears on their cheeks, and my carnal side wants to say "See? See? It IS possible!" It's like I've always known it could be this way and now it finally is this way and I want to do sloppy cartwheels down the aisles. I feel like I'm finally free to musically worship at church, and you may or may not have an idea of how amazing it feels. Praise God.
So, what's the lesson here? Well, firstly, that you should always listen to Sethswife's musical opinions.
Ha. Hardly.
No, the real lesson is that patience is rewarded. That sometimes, silence is golden. That when I let my ego control me, I get frustrated. That putting aside my desires for a time is not really that huge of a sacrifice. That godly people accept change with grace. That it's okay to quietly abstain when you disagree. That I open my mouth a lot more than I should. That it's not all about me, and even if I'm right, it's okay to shut the heck up once in awhile. That talent doesn't mean you always know everything. That when you stick with something, eventually, you'll end up feeling like you actually have a place in God's family, something worth giving to the body of Christ. That being involved is more important than being heard. That my church is filled with some really awesome people that I feel honored to serve musically with.
I could go on and on and on.
But I think I've already done that.
So, I'll just close with thank you's. Thank you to friends and family who encouraged me to get better musically. Thank you to those involved in the music that have heard me complain and loved me anyway. Thank you to the leaders for embracing change. Thank you to everyone who allows me to sing. Thank you to Seth for being who you are musically and not allowing the pressure to make you into something God didn't intend for you to be. And thank you to Jesus most of all, for giving me something to sing about.
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