On Singing

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(This is Part 2 of a short series on how we should approach the pressure points put on doing church from the pandemic. You can read Part 1 here.)

One of the biggest casualties of restricted gatherings during this pandemic is congregational singing. I love that Village sings. I’ve been to churches where the band blasts away and people stand around awkwardly, and you know—it’s just not the same. There’s something irreplaceable about God’s people lifting their voices together in joyous acclamation that He is our good, our rock, our salvation. 

Let’s be honest: it’s awkward now. If you come to church on Sunday, you’re going to be singing through a mask, surrounded by…empty space. It’s weird. And if you’ve been tuning on online, I’m pretty confident you definitely feel this. Church music piped through your TV just isn’t the same. 

We’re in a strange place. And it’s temping to withdraw from the uncomfortable. But you shouldn’t. Here’s why. 

We Still Have Something to Sing About

The Christian sings not because the melody of our songs are particularly catchy, but because we have something to sing about. We live in the ever-present, ever-lasting love of Jesus Christ. As Christians, we recognize that the work of Christ closed an epochal door, and opened a new one. Christ reconciled you to God, and me to God, and so us together. We are participants in a breathtaking cosmic redemption that is experienced now and still strains forward to its final fulfillment. Together, we stand forgiven completely, raised to life spiritually, loved unspeakably. For the Christian, there is never a moment this is not true. And so we always have something to sing about. 

When we understand this, we recognize that while congregational song is particularly precious, we don’t need to be in the same space with live music to sing our hearts out to our God. Worship is simply a response to the goodness and glory of our God. Which means, when our God is uppermost in our affections, whether we’re joining on a TV or behind a mask, we can give expressions to our love for God in song. 

We Still Need to Be Reminded

But this is only part of the picture. Perhaps more than ever, many of us are arriving at Sunday and the last thing we feel is wonder or joy. All this talk about having something to sing about is true enough at one level, but on the days our hearts are weeping, running anxious circles—or just fed up with this pandemic—it can be tough to feel this reality. We may try to hype ourselves up, but perhaps we just find ourselves frustrated by the whole thing. 

Here it’s helpful to consider the way our minds and hearts interact. Sometimes, our emotions lead our minds. This is the case when we feel love or wonder, and go and write a poem or a song about it. Our emotions lead us to think deeply and creatively about our experience. 

But other times, our minds lead our hearts. It has happened countless times to me as I have labored over a sermon or lesson. As I struggle over verbs and syntax and interpretive choices, the message of these ancient words connects to my heart in a deep and profound way, and I find myself bursting with joy or love or gratitude. 

Sunday morning singing can accomplish the same task. When you find yourself emotionally distant, stop thinking about the music, the mask, your off-key neighbor or the strangeness of joining in your living room. Lock onto the words. Feed your mind with the gospel refrain. Sing the words, not because you feel it, but because they are true. And sometimes, we sing not just because the words are true, but because we need help believing they are true.

We Still Need Shaping 

It’s no mistake music is so intimately tied to marketing. Songs and jingles get lodged in your head and just stick (remember the annoying “Triple Dent Gum” jingle from Pixar’s Inside Out?). Music has enormous sticking power, and it has enormous power to shape us. 

If you were to watch a good movie—a really good one—stripped of its soundtrack, I can guarantee the movie will feel hollow. The music running behind the acting and dialogue creates the ethos we love about our favorite films. 

Something similar happens with good church songs. When good music is married to lyrical theology, we end up with a powerful tool for our own spiritual growth. A powerful melody may stir our affect in all kinds of ways, but good church music helps us respond rightly to the right things; to feel deeply about the right joys. 

In connecting the glorious propositional truths we may gloss over in our regular Bible reading, that vibrant melody and sweet poetry invites us to see, feel and experience these truths afresh. Music can therefore be a guide that invites us into joy, lament, and awe by engaging the emotive centers of our lives and pointing our faces toward the truth. 

Some people try to downplay this aspect of worship, fearful of emotional manipulation. And to a degree, that’s right: we shouldn’t play around with peoples’ emotions. But we are emotional beings. We sing on Sunday to give our emotions true and good vent, anchored to the truth. 

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So this Sunday, as you stand with your brothers and sisters and stare down the words on the screen at home or on the wall at Village, remember this: we have something to sing about, of which we need to be reminded and regularly shaped by. So sing your heart out church.