Pietists and the Popular Culture
A parallel might be drawn between the historical debates by our Pietistic forebears over the issue of the language of worship in the church, and the present day uneasiness with the newer worship styles that reflect the cultural changes dividing us today. In both situations, the root problem for the church was and is, how to respond to change. Should we modify our worship, including language and the music styles, to fit popular culture in order to increase our numbers or hold on to the old ways and our own spiritual traditions at the cost of losing some of our potential future.
Richard Mouw, in a recent Christian Century article, states the issue well. He observed this problem of transition when he heard about a middle-level manager who referred to God as his C.E.O and himself as an employee who had to make a profit. “Tacky language,” Mouw said, “but even so we might accept it as ‘entry level’ religious talk. In time, hopefully, there would be a movement toward more adequate language for the long haul.”
When old friends from childhood days come over for coffee and we sit and discuss the world as it was in an earlier day, we often reflect on the changes which we have witnessed in our lifetime. Scientific knowledge about everything we touch has vastly expanded. Our macrocosms have grown larger and our microcosms have shrunk. In the cultural, psychological, social and relational fields we have become more knowledgeable. Still, at times it seems questionable whether we are any more successful in coping with life.
In the practice of our Faith there have also been changes in our perceptions. We recognize provable scientific fact. In addition, we hold tenaciously to truths we can only hold by faith and this because we choose to do so. These truths are based on the Scriptures which we trust for guidance in faith, doctrine and conduct. We recall the struggle of some fifty to sixty years ago when the tide of opinion concerning the language of choice for our Faith moved from the Swedish to the English. It was said, “We need to do something because our young people are slipping away to the English-speaking churches.” The perception existed that the English language could not sustain the spirituality which traditionally had been nurtured by the Swedish language. Many congregations met to consider melding the two languages into the order of service. These business meetings lasted late into the night, with motions being amended and amendments being amended. It was a time of deep emotional stress. Language was important. (It could be noted that the language of some disputants-Minnesota Swedish-already combined the two languages.) The association of the language of the country of their birth to their religious faith was so strong that their piety could not be expressed in other languages. Or so they felt, except when they sent missionaries to China!
The word “language” is used in both sacred and secular literature to mean more than the vocal sounds of a given tongue. Webster’s dictionary states that language is:
any means vocal or other of expressing a community of feeling or thought . . . Not all intelligible expressions are fixed nor are all used exclusively for communication since language plays a large role in our thinking processes . . . Hence language may mean (1) expressions that convey ideas, or (2) expressions that symbolize ideas.
The Gospel of John speaks of Jesus as the “Word.” Obviously the Creator of the universe could use any language He wanted. It was the hearer who had the communication problem. Law could be chiseled into stone, but love must be communicated in a life and in a human language. Hence, the incarnation.
I must relate an experience I had on a beautiful Easter Sunday morning some years ago. The sun was bright. An early spring had combined with a late date for Easter. “Spring was bursting out” in the lawns and the bushes. It occurred to me that it would be nice to get some wonderful Easter music on the radio-perhaps an Oratorio by Bach or something from Handel with a full choir sounding the triumphant anthems of Easter. Radios had tubes in those days which took some time to warm up. I was therefore back in front of the shaving mirror when the music came blasting out. But it was neither Bach nor Handel. I was set on the wrong station. There was only the caterwauling of people screaming out some mindless songs followed by a high pitched plea to send in contributions. I raced to the radio to correct the sacrilege I had committed. As I reached for the knob, a voice seemed to say to me, “Does God always have to talk in your language to be valid? Maybe someone else hearing the broadcast is finding meaning in the program that turns you off.” I let the program continue for a few seconds before I moved the dial to Bach.
An orderly service, where the glory, majesty, and overwhelming greatness of our God is proclaimed, moves me deeply. It is the revelation that He so desired to communicate with me that He stooped down to my lowly level to say in my “language” that He loves me. This exults me.
I prefer that the hymns be singable and in beautiful harmony. The words should not consist of inane ditties but should have meaning that speaks to the soul. While the choir and the special music are greatly appreciated, I cringe when performers are obviously trying to impress me with their skills and talents. The sermon should challenge my attitudes and feed my spirit, not entertain me.
As a result, I have great difficulty with Gospel Rock or songs which, if you change a few words, could play on Broadway. I observe services on TV where it is SHOWTIME, with ministers strutting about in glamorous garments, singing sensuous songs about their love for the Master, smugly boasting of their special communication with the Holy Spirit, interlarding it all with address information about where you can send money to finance the broadcast. There are variations, of course, but few feed the soul. Some performers are reported as saying that they are giving people what they want to see and hear and in the process that some get saved. Possibly.
I get deeply emotional about this new trend in worship. I am now finding myself in the role of some of the old pietistic Swedes who fifty years ago had strong forebodings of the dangers of change in the worship language.
Perhaps the comparison of the two situations is not completely valid. But it troubles me to think that my reluctance to change may destine my church to fail because it doesn’t speak the language of today. Can God use the forms which so disappoint me to bring people to himself? Am I the sole arbiter of what is acceptable? This, to me is a difficult dilemma, for if I buy into change, I feel disenfranchised. If I resist change, there might be no church to feed my soul.
I know that it is not my judgment that is final. Yet, every church body must confront the issue within its own area of mission to find an acceptable answer for both camps. Fifty years ago they made provision for the losses by having Sunday afternoon services in Swedish. These finally disappeared as the older group also died out. Could this be prophetic for those of us who dread seeing this present day transition taking place? Was my Easter morning lesson lost on me?
Our God is too great to deal with Him casually and flippantly. Each congregation must carefully consider which musical idioms and worship styles best express its relationship with God.