Monday, October 31, 2011

Reflection #8: Music Became More Private, More Performance, Less Participation

Anyone who knows me knows that music has been a significant part of my ministry - actually more than that - music has been a significant part of my life. I grew up with music all around me – my grandmother and great aunt played the organ at church, my father directed the choir and played in a marching band, one uncle played guitar like Chet Atkins, another uncle played bass and banjo in dance bands – always there was music surrounding me. It should be no surprise that I began piano lessons when I was six and I have been involved in making music ever since.

I remember playing duets with my dad, him on accordion and me on piano – just for fun. We would improvise our own arrangements of everything from boogie-woogie tunes to southern gospel standards. We made music, we didn’t just listen. And many other people I knew made music, they created music rather than just listening to it. Sitting in the pew on Sunday morning I would soak in the sound of the congregation singing great hymns of the faith or parts of the liturgy in four (or more) part harmony. Everyone sang, at least that’s how it seemed.

When I was a child portable music became a reality with transistor radios. However, you still had to listen to someone else’s choice of music. What a personal revolution when a few years later the first Walkman’s arrived - now a person could choose the music they listened to all of the time. The digital age took this to a whole new level, I currently have almost all of my extensive CD collection on my iPod. Now I can literally listen to anything from my collection at anytime, and with the internet at my finger tips I can access pretty well any music I want at any time. As one social commentator recently observed, we now create our own unique soundtrack to our lives through our portable music players – listening to our specific mix of music, without any interference (or participation) from anyone else.

The biggest change I’ve seen to music in ministry over the past 25 years is that it has moved away from participatory music to performance music. When I look out over the congregation on a Sunday morning service it amazes me how many people aren’t even trying to sing! When I ask the congregation to stand and sing a certain hymn or song they will dutifully stand, but then some just stand there with their mouths closed the whole time. Perhaps they feel they can’t sing, or more accurately, they can’t sing good enough. One of the problems of having access to professionally recorded music all the time, is that we have surrounded ourselves with an unrealistic standard – few people can sing like those folks on recordings, and truth be told, even they can’t sing like that (instead using auto tune devices and various recording techniques to achieve a perfect performance). Shows like American (or Canadian) Idol teach us that even really good singers get kicked off the stage, so if you can’t sing like the best, then it’s best to keep quiet so as to not embarrass yourself or irritate others. This self-defeating way of thinking is one negative repercussion of the easy access we have to recorded music in our culture.

It is sad that even in the church fewer and fewer people are discovering the joy of making music together. If people can’t be imperfect in their music making in the church, then where can they? Are not the gathered people of God encouraged to “make a joyful noise”? (see Psalms 95, 98 & 100) Is it possible to reclaim some of the sense of communal music making in the future? Can we move away from a performance based approach to music in worship, to one that is intentionally inclusive of all, both the skilled musicians and those who feel they have no musical ability? I’m not completely sure how we get there (though I have some ideas), I just hope music doesn’t end up in the hands of the professionals only. The joy of music would be gutted with such a scenario. In a paper titled “Music, Worship and Martin Luther” Charles St-Onge sums up Luther’s intention:

Luther encouraged the use of music in the church’s worship. This is not at all to imply that music was not part of worship before his reforms. However, music had been to a certain extent relegated to ‘professionals’ and taken away from the people. What Luther wanted to restore was the involvement of the people in the worship of God. Communion in Christ’s blood was not to be reserved for a special priestly class; even less was the praise of the people to be restricted to a special musical class.

Music in worship should be primarily participatory, which is not to say there is no place for a choir anthem or vocal solo, but worship music should mostly be that which encourages and makes possible the full involvement of all who are gathered. In a culture that allows everyone to listen to music that suits their taste to the exclusion of all else this becomes more and more difficult to achieve. In order to participate in music a person must feel comfortable with the style and confident in the leadership. Since there is no longer a single style of music that is comfortable for all generations, and since people can be totally tuned out of the music they don’t like, what is a congregation to do? Insisting on hymns from two or more centuries ago led by an organist is not going to be comfortable or familiar with a significant segment of the population. On the other hand insisting on only contemporary worship music led with a full band will also alienate a whole group of people who simply do not feel comfortable or familiar with that style of music, no matter how well intentioned it is. These are only two of the many possible stylistic clashes that have created tension in the North American church over the past 3 decades. This seems irresolvable.

I feel fortunate that my musical training and experience has been very broad, and that there are few styles of music I am not familiar or comfortable with. I grew up learning classical music, while at the same time surrounded by rock, country and gospel music. In my later teen years I became interested in jazz and electronic music, at college I was immersed in choral music – from ancient to contemporary. Such a diverse exposure to music has allowed me to work in a wide variety of contexts, including a wide range of worship settings. Observing worship music from many angles I have reached the conclusion that it is possible to re-involve people in music regardless of style, but it must be intentional, it must be the primary desire of the musician(s). It also requires gentleness, persistence and patience as people become acquainted with music they may not be familiar with. With intentionality and practice, sensitivity and skill, even today’s congregations, populated by people who culture has trained to be a passive audience, can be encouraged to discover the joy of participating in the musical expression of the people of God. This seems to me to be the challenge of the future – to help people to re-engage in the gift of music, that of which Martin Luther wrote “Next to the Word of God, the noble art of music is the greatest treasure in the world.” May we continuously strive to share that treasure with all.

Saturday, October 8, 2011

Reflection #7: The Pastor is No Longer on a Pedestal (But Maybe a Footstool)

When I was a young child pastors were always referred to by their title then last name - thus for me it was Pastor Lokken. This was the way everyone referred to the minister, it was a sign of respect and honor. By the time I was a teenager I was calling our new pastor P.B. (short for Pastor Berg). This nickname was not seen as disrespectful, but rather a term of endearment, and this was only possible because attitudes towards clergy were changing. No longer were pastors considered people who were above their congregations, a superior persons spiritually and intellectually, rather clergy were beginning to be seen as average (dare I say "normal") people. A pastor was now regarded as someone who had an important vocation, but no more important than other vocations (bringing Luther's teaching on The Priesthood of All Believers more to the fore).

There are times when I wonder what it would have been like to have served the church in the era of Herr Pastor, I'm not sure I would have liked it. I'm not sure I would have entered seminary if I sensed that somehow I would end up being treated differently (and expected to act differently) than everyone else. To live with the pressure of being the person on the pedestal would have been too much for me. I sometimes think that level of respect would be nice, especially in contrast to the lack of respect or sense of disregard that seems to be prevalent today (here I'm referring to society in general, not behaviour within the church). As I consider this further however, I would rather take being regarded the same as others over the social straitjacket of being placed on a pedestal.

The way things are now I feel I can have real conversations with people (most of the time), and people don't feel like they need to change their behaviour around me (though that impulse still shows up from time to time). The other benefit to the current lowering of the pastoral pedestal is that it allows for the conceiving of partnership in ministry between the clergy and lay people - a partnership that allows all participants to feel they can contribute an equal and valid part. While it remains true that within a congregation a pastor may be the most trained theologically person (and theological reflection being their contribution to the whole) this does not mean that the pastor is expected to know everything (and do everything). In the past I think that too much was left up to the clergy and ministry was too often placed solely into the hands of the professionals.

Contrast this with the picture of Jesus' chosen leaders, they were anything but professional religious leaders. They were anything but perfect. They were average humans given an extraordinary calling. Their calling did not change their ordinariness, they still remained imperfect humans stumbling along on this mission, yet God worked through such folks, and I believe that God continues to work through the ordinary humans who are called into ministry.

I know all too well that just because I am a pastor I am not better than others - I make mistakes, I get tired, I don't have all the answers. For the most part people today understand this and yet occasionally the pedestal comes out again (though it is not as high as in earlier years, maybe it's more like a footstool now). I suppose there is a natural impulse to want to see leaders as somehow better versions of ourselves. We want to be assured that the one pointing the direction sees more than we do, knows more than we know, is stronger than we feel, is a head above all others. It would be easy to follow such a leader, but there is a danger in this impulse, and the danger is that we can end up shifting our trust and faith from Jesus to one of Jesus' followers. It is important that if anyone is put on a pedestal that it be Jesus. And actually (in a manner of speaking) this has already happened. As John wrote in his Gospel Jesus was lifted up for all to see (see John 3:14 and 12:32-33) however it was no pedestal, rather it was a cross.

The call to follow Jesus is a call to pick up our cross (not our pedestal) and follow him. This requires an attitude of humility, and being on a pedestal can erode any sense of humbleness quickly. So while I sometimes think things would be easier if people gave me respect simply for the office I fill, I would rather things function as they do now - allowing pastors and lay people to walk together this journey of faith, picking each other up when we stumble, and always looking ahead to where our leader and Lord has led the way. At the foot of his cross we are all on level ground.