On Not Singing

NickImage

Roger Olson and I disagree about plenty of issues, but according to a recent blog post, we apparently find concord in one important topic. We are both convinced that Christians should not sing hymns that express significant error.

To be sure, Roger and I dispute both what constitutes error and how significant the error is. He is Arminian while I am Calvinistic. He is very broadly evangelical while I am pretty narrowly fundamentalistic. He believes that the gospel does not have to include hell (though he does not deny its existence), while I believe that the good news (gospel) is only as good as the bad news (laðra spella) is bad, and that the gospel is hardly news at all without a doctrine of eternal perdition behind it. These differences are more than negligible, and they definitely mean that Roger will sing some songs that I cannot, and vice versa.

Where we agree is in taking hymnody seriously. What we sing is a confession of what we believe. For us to sing what we do not believe would be to bear false witness.

Roger says that he cannot sing “Be Still My Soul” because it expresses God’s sovereignty, even over evil. On the other hand, one of my former colleagues could not sing the last stanza of “Jesus, Thy Blood and Righteousness” because he is convinced of limited atonement. Personally, I relish both of these hymns, but Christian charity forbids me from pressuring a brother to affirm what he does not believe. For him to do so would be a sin, and for me to coerce him would also be a sin. I take no offense with what he cannot sing, though I may well disagree with his choice.

Thus far, I believe that Roger and I are committed to the same general practice. In my own conscience, however, I go one step further. We have not discussed this matter, but I would be surprised to discover that Roger would take this step with me.

When people talk to one another, we communicate in a variety of ways. Part of our communication occurs at the propositional and discursive level, but much of the meaning that we express is non-propositional and even non-verbal. We express meaning by vocal intonation (pitch, volume, timbre), posture, and facial expression. We also express meaning by choosing words that evoke certain responses or by arranging them in ways that establish certain resonances. We may employ figures of speech or word pictures to supply meaning that goes beyond the bare, verbal layer.

In written communication, we cannot use facial expressions or vocal intonations, but we do use most of the other devices. The more that we rely upon them, the less our writing is prosaic and the more it becomes poetic. In good poetry, we will try to deploy multiple tools of communication, stacking them upon one another so that meaning is layers deep. When it comes to poetry, the non-discursive aspects are far more important than the bare, verbal propositions.

Whatever else they are, hymns are poems set to music. In hymnody, we are dealing with poetry. Because of the densely-packed meaning, poetry is a far more powerful vehicle of communication than mere discourse. That power may be amplified further by the addition of music. Good poetry goes beyond prose in its ability to express meaning, and good hymnody goes beyond mere text.

The problem is that it is possible for implied meaning to contradict the plain, verbal meaning of an utterance. A simple example is the husband who tells his wife, “That’s my favorite dinner,” but who means exactly the opposite. The reversal of meaning does not occur at the verbal, discursive level, but it is nevertheless real. The real meaning of the utterance is “That is a dinner that I do not like.” By using the device of irony, however, the husband underlines his dislike.

How does the wife know whether to take the statement in an ironic or a straightforward sense? She has to make a judgment. Her judgment will be informed by all sorts of factors, many of which are subjective, but each of which is real. At the end of the day, one understanding of the statement is right and the other is wrong, and the wife who loves rightly has the duty to judge wisely which it is.

What I am suggesting is that it is possible to falsify the propositional meaning of an utterance (whether spoken or written) by the way we say it. If that is the case, then the power of poetry and music to enforce or contradict a verbal message must be taken very seriously. It must be taken especially seriously when our intention is the right expression of Christian truth, such that it both registers in our minds and shapes our affections.

It is possible to express bad doctrine at the verbal level. It is also possible to express bad doctrine at the poetical or the musical level. In the first case, we utter a straightforward falsehood. In the second case, we contradict a truth less obviously, though perhaps more emphatically, by the way we express it. Our judgments about poetry and music may (and will) be more subjective, but that does not mean that they are necessarily untrue. Nor can they be avoided.

So what should we do when we become convinced that a particular hymn subverts right doctrine in the way that it expresses the doctrine? My answer is that we are obligated to do the same thing we would do if the hymn expressed obviously false doctrine at the discursive level. We do not sing it.

Of course, cognitive bargaining is always possible. We can tell ourselves, “I’ll sing as if I mean this rather than that.” Where genuine ambiguities exist, this kind of bargaining may be permissible (as when we confess “one baptism for the remission of sins,” though we may disagree with some interpretations of the phrase). I think, however, that the only safe course is to confess—and sing—only what we are confident is pleasing to God. Let every man be fully persuaded in his own mind.

Therefore, when our brethren judge a hymn to subvert sound doctrine through its musical or poetical communication, we must not pressure or coerce them to sing. For them to confess what they do not believe would be a sin. For us to pressure them to sing what they do not believe would also be a sin.

On the other hand, what should be our attitude toward our brothers who sing when we cannot? We can rejoice in the mercy of our God, mercy that forbears much that is impure in the lives and worship of both us and them. Acknowledging such mercy does not bar us from making appeals and offering gentle exhortations. Still, whenever believers live in community, they find that they are forced to tolerate what they regard as evils within the community. Tolerating a (perceived) evil in another is not the same thing as practicing evil. If we have not a category for tolerable evils, then we shall not be able to live in community at all.

Musicks Empire
Andrew Marvell (1621-1678)

i
First was the World as one great Cymbal made,
Where Jarring Windes to infant Nature plaid.
All Musick was a solitary sound,
To hollow Rocks and murm’ring Fountains bound.

ii
Jubal first made the wilder Notes agree;
And Jubal tun’d Musicks Jubilee:
He call’d the Ecchoes from their sullen Cell,
And built the Organs City where they dwell.

iii
Each sought a consort in that lovely place;
And Virgin Trebles wed the manly Base.
From whence the Progeny of numbers new
Into harmonious Colonies withdrew.

iv
Some to the Lute, some to the Viol went,
And others chose the Cornet eloquent.
These practising the Wind, and those the Wire,
To sing Mens Triumphs, or in Heavens quire.

v
Then Musick, the Mosaique of the Air,
Did of all these a Solemn noise prepare:
With which She gain’d the Empire of the Ear,
Including all between the Earth and Sphear.

vi
Victorious sounds! yet here your Homage do
Unto a gentler Conqueror than you;
Who though He flies the Musick of his praise,
Would with you Heavens Hallelujahs raise.

Discussion

[Aaron Blumer]
[KevinM] If a particular member frequently labels the chosen songs as “sin,” he’s probably in the wrong group of covenanted believers.
Aaron sez: I think there’s a weakness in this particular point because, as someone pointed out earlier in the thread (and I think he’s right), a whole lot of folks in the “group of covenanted believers” don’t know what parts of the songs they’re singing even mean, even less about where they came from. In some cases, the songs we sing contradict the confessions of faith we claim or the covenants we’ve affirmed.
Aaron, I have sympathy for what you are saying—in the context of a congregation, a pastor would want to carefully plan a teaching ministry directed toward believers who lack maturity (discernment) in this area. It would be a shame to ignore all of the teachable moments that are provided by theologically-rich songs. I’m more thinking of the mature believer (“fully convinced”?) who understands that his or her position is often contrary to the church leadership—but who decides to stay and cause trouble. Maybe we’re just talking about two different things. I think KB is coming from the standpoint of a person who sometimes has more discernment than the worship leader. And you seem to be raising the possibility of a church member who has less discernment than the worship leaders. Both are real.

[Kevin T. Bauder] Kevin, No, I’m not posing a contrast between “good” music and “sinning” music. I am simply assuming such a thing as “sinning” music and asking how we should respond to it. I suggest that the sin may occur at the musical as well as the propositional level. Wherever there is meaning, there is the possibility of sinful meaning
Kevin—I’m comfortable with this, though perhaps we would discern the lines differently. Part of what you are saying is commendable, in that you have provided a solution for those who wish to stay within a congregation, despite their differences. To my way of thinking, your thoughts are much superior to someone who leaves a church (entirely) because of musical style. Some folks have trained their affections so narrowly that they cannot fellowship with anyone at all, dropping the idea of church membership entirely.

I suppose it works the same way for congregations who are concerned about the “other” churches in their fellowship or association. But as you suggest, our complicity increases the closer we are to a particular group. Our fellowship with other churches gives us important responsibilities (gotta get Straub to finish that article!)

Yes, God’s mercy for the songleader, too, in the sense of His showing compassion or forbearance when we offend Him (and those in our congregation.) Yes, I agree that I have a duty that is as high and holy as pulpit proclamation. Having accepted this calling, many of us labor so that we do not “get it wrong,” and we must confess our worship sins when they are committed. We do not fear God’s wrath, but our worship sins prevent us from seeing and receiving God’s rich blessings and close fellowship. I say this on behalf of the erring worship leader, and also on behalf of his erring critics.

Yes, I agree with your ideal: “only those expressions that the entire congregation could agree were glorifying to God”. But I wonder if it is better to articulate this as a shared burden between the leaders and the congregation. The conscientious objectors in the back, the non-singing ones with their arms folded, must avoid playing the “sin” card too soon. I suppose your phrase “tolerable evil” is a bit more helpful here. Please understand that I greatly value your essay. I’m trying to suggest some practical qualifiers, lest we begin to name something “sin” when it is “not sin.”

I was greatly encourage by reading this article and I think we would all do to hone our discernment. Rather than building fences around every single issue we would be wise to apply Scripture and then allow other Christians room to grow where it’s permissible. We must filter everything through Scripture and must to learn to choose between best, better, and bad.

Mathew Sims

Kevin,

To be clear, I would definitely leave a church over music—some music. I would leave the leadership sooner than I would leave the membership—it entails a different level of complicity. And I have certainly made this one of the most important questions in determining what church I will join. Before I came to Fourth Baptist and Central Seminary I spent hours of time and pages of text making sure that the leadership knew exactly what I believed and would do. They knew what they were getting!

Not all evils are tolerable evils. Sometimes we do separate, even over music. On the other hand, not every musical error merits separation. And you are quite correct that you and I will draw those lines in different places.

Also, to be clear, I do not believe that the issues is simply one of how we have trained our affections (though that is certainly part of the problem). The primary question with music, as with any other utterance directed toward or about God, is, What does it mean? Until we have answered that question, we are not in a good position to make moral judgments. This, I think, is the primary flaw in almost all of the older fundamentalist discussions of music. They tended to leap first to moral conclusions, then backfilled their arguments with rationales that were too often contrived or entirely specious.

Finally, to be clear, I do not believe that it is fair to caricature those who do not sing as the conscientious objectors in the back, as “the non-singing ones with their arms folded,” or as those who protest silently. Their point is not to conduct a demonstration or to register a complaint. Their point is simply not to do what one would be wrong to do: i.e., to express what they believe to be false.

By the way, if their arms are folded and they are exceptionally visible, that is probably because the leadership has taken away their hymnals (which they would surely have opened to the correct page) and projected the song’s text on a screen. They have no hymnal to hold, they are exposed to a scrutiny that they would prefer to avoid, and they are offered limited choices. Put their hands in their pocketses, precious? Stand defiantly at attention? Lift their hands in prayer? Perhaps you would prefer that they just rolled in the aisles? Clutching their hymnal was their last alternative to being accused of a surliness or even defiance that they do not feel and have no wish to express. No wonder some of the slink to the back rows, relegating themselves to the position of the second-class members that they are thought to be.

They judge the music. Their brothers judge them. Which is less seemly?

This article was helpful, because it is not simply a matter of “stay at the church” or “join another church” for a lot of people. Some who are employed by certain institutions may be required to attend a particular church or a particular denomination. If there are only 1 or 2 churches of the approved denomination in the area, a person’s options are limited. Some students at certain colleges or seminaries are required to attend certain churches. If there are not a lot of the approved ones in the area, again, options are limited and one sort of gets stuck with something they may not otherwise choose. Also, a wife may find herself in a church that uses some music that is “sin” for her to sing. She shouldn’t leave and join another church without her husband, should she? One more example: there are preachers who speak at other churches or conferences who believe the music being used falls into the category of “sin” and therefore they should not sing.

So, choosing not to sing is really the only option that some people have (or I suppose he or she could always conveniently have to go to the bathroom during the music or keep a pocket full of lozenges and frequently pop them in to feign a sore throat) but that would be dishonest and disingenuous, wouldn’t it?