I went to the Luther-Aquinas conference in Hickory a couple of weeks ago. Almost all of the lectures there were very good. Dr. Amy Schifrin, a Lutheran pastor in Pennsylvania, though, was absolutely phenomenal. I hope that she will make good on her promise to e-mail me a copy of her talk. Though, even if she forgets (I'm sure she's very busy, having wrapped up a doctoral dissertation and then gone on to a pastorate!) I think that Lutheran Forum usually tries to publish the addresses of the conference in one of their issues.
Her talk was on Luther's use of hymnody in the Evangelical mass. She emphasized the unity of form and content in liturgy and hymnody. The quotable quote that stuck with me was this: "It is a vicious lie that Luther got the tunes for his hymns from the bars." In fact, Luther very much wanted to preserve the proper distinction between ecclesial and popular culture. This is not to say that he disliked bar tunes-- in his Genesis commentary, he talks about the Word of God doing its work while he and Melanchthon drank beer (and I'm sure they sang a bar tune or two.) But some music is not the most appropriate for the Church. Its form does violence to the gospel.
It is hard to make this kind of an argument about proper music for worship without being accused of cultural elitism. That's why I don't make that argument in my parish...but I tenaciously hold to it, and try to subtly encourage it and subversively advance it!
I certainly don't want to demean rock music, R&B, etc. I love those forms dearly, as my Otis Redding & Velvet Underground boxed sets can attest to.
I think that DC Talk (or Lost & Found, or Stryper, or whatever...) is fine if that's what grabs you, but it does not seem to be capable of adequately carrying the apostolic deposit in its fullness. Which is why it is probably not best for Sunday morning. But listen to it all you want elsewhere. Let's face it, though, it is impossible to divorce the formal aspects of rap and heavy metal from their cultural contexts, and I certainly don't want to see the crass misogyny or pagan abandon that these forms embody, in the Church.
I am not the biggest fan of Marty Haugen and David Hass. This is mostly because of the "social gospel" that sometimes seems implicit in their lyrics. I have to admit that part of my distaste, though, is the folksy forms that are more reminiscent of Peter, Paul and Mary than of the Church's great composers (for a funny protest, see this site). But I will say that Haugen & Hass do a reasonably good job of taking musical forms of the people and transposing them into the Church.
But where are our generation's Crugers and Bachs and Wattses and Wesleys? I certainly do not insist upon "highbrow" music, but I crave scriptural depth, doctrinal profundity and musical gravity that can also appeal to our contemporary culture. A tall order, yes, but one we deeply need some faithful musicians to fulfill.
I remember reading a commentary one time on how the hymn "Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing" was revised in a baptist hymnal. Because no one understood the reference, they changed "Here I raise my Ebenezer," to "Here I raise a sure reminder." That is really sad, but seems to reflect a trend in Church music.
Schifrin made the argument that there are three types of music-- art music, folk music, and "industrial music." Art music comes from a composer's head with a specific ensemble in mind. Folk music comes from among the people and circulates widely. "Industrial" music comes from a studio with the intention of making money. She argues that Church music has been co-opted by industrial music.
Now, I am not sure that I'm with her all the way. After all, sometimes music does not fall cleanly into one category. What do you do with a Bob Dylan who borrows widely from folk forms and forges a somewhat unique style with the end of making money from it? Or what do you do with a Radiohead, who makes avowedly difficult "art" music for an industrial market?
Perhaps the ends of an industrial culture have inevitably warped our cultural forms-- the only way out is by being ironic (a la Andy Warhol) or transgressive (a la Andres Serrano-- the "artist" who put the crucifix in a jar of urine). Or, maybe we should just march on in this awful parade and pretend like the emperor leading us is clothed magnificently.
But I have great hope. I am anxious about doing my project related to arts & faith in my congregation. We have talked about having an artist in residence to do a sculpture here. We have talked about hosting Christian writers and dramatists to do readings and plays and talks. There are many painters and writers and musicians and puppeteers here. Can't they use their skills in an excellent way to glorify God?. There is too much mediocrity that is glorified in the Church. This is especially true for music!
I see aesthetic renewal as a significant horizon for the Church. Or maybe it's more like ressourcement. After all, from icons to Gothic cathedrals to Dante, the Church has nurtured a lot of the greatest art. Let's not forget that the Renaissance- - claimed as a benchmark for rational humanism-- happened in large part because the Church acted as a patron for Palestrina and Michelangelo and Raphael and many others. We need to nurture our own day's artists or else they will be making art on the terms of our increasingly destructive secular culture.
If you have not seen it, you should check out the journal "Image," which publishes excellent literature and art from a Judeo-Christian perspective. This is one of my beacons in a dark world.
Her talk was on Luther's use of hymnody in the Evangelical mass. She emphasized the unity of form and content in liturgy and hymnody. The quotable quote that stuck with me was this: "It is a vicious lie that Luther got the tunes for his hymns from the bars." In fact, Luther very much wanted to preserve the proper distinction between ecclesial and popular culture. This is not to say that he disliked bar tunes-- in his Genesis commentary, he talks about the Word of God doing its work while he and Melanchthon drank beer (and I'm sure they sang a bar tune or two.) But some music is not the most appropriate for the Church. Its form does violence to the gospel.
It is hard to make this kind of an argument about proper music for worship without being accused of cultural elitism. That's why I don't make that argument in my parish...but I tenaciously hold to it, and try to subtly encourage it and subversively advance it!
I certainly don't want to demean rock music, R&B, etc. I love those forms dearly, as my Otis Redding & Velvet Underground boxed sets can attest to.
I think that DC Talk (or Lost & Found, or Stryper, or whatever...) is fine if that's what grabs you, but it does not seem to be capable of adequately carrying the apostolic deposit in its fullness. Which is why it is probably not best for Sunday morning. But listen to it all you want elsewhere. Let's face it, though, it is impossible to divorce the formal aspects of rap and heavy metal from their cultural contexts, and I certainly don't want to see the crass misogyny or pagan abandon that these forms embody, in the Church.
I am not the biggest fan of Marty Haugen and David Hass. This is mostly because of the "social gospel" that sometimes seems implicit in their lyrics. I have to admit that part of my distaste, though, is the folksy forms that are more reminiscent of Peter, Paul and Mary than of the Church's great composers (for a funny protest, see this site). But I will say that Haugen & Hass do a reasonably good job of taking musical forms of the people and transposing them into the Church.
But where are our generation's Crugers and Bachs and Wattses and Wesleys? I certainly do not insist upon "highbrow" music, but I crave scriptural depth, doctrinal profundity and musical gravity that can also appeal to our contemporary culture. A tall order, yes, but one we deeply need some faithful musicians to fulfill.
I remember reading a commentary one time on how the hymn "Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing" was revised in a baptist hymnal. Because no one understood the reference, they changed "Here I raise my Ebenezer," to "Here I raise a sure reminder." That is really sad, but seems to reflect a trend in Church music.
Schifrin made the argument that there are three types of music-- art music, folk music, and "industrial music." Art music comes from a composer's head with a specific ensemble in mind. Folk music comes from among the people and circulates widely. "Industrial" music comes from a studio with the intention of making money. She argues that Church music has been co-opted by industrial music.
Now, I am not sure that I'm with her all the way. After all, sometimes music does not fall cleanly into one category. What do you do with a Bob Dylan who borrows widely from folk forms and forges a somewhat unique style with the end of making money from it? Or what do you do with a Radiohead, who makes avowedly difficult "art" music for an industrial market?
Perhaps the ends of an industrial culture have inevitably warped our cultural forms-- the only way out is by being ironic (a la Andy Warhol) or transgressive (a la Andres Serrano-- the "artist" who put the crucifix in a jar of urine). Or, maybe we should just march on in this awful parade and pretend like the emperor leading us is clothed magnificently.
But I have great hope. I am anxious about doing my project related to arts & faith in my congregation. We have talked about having an artist in residence to do a sculpture here. We have talked about hosting Christian writers and dramatists to do readings and plays and talks. There are many painters and writers and musicians and puppeteers here. Can't they use their skills in an excellent way to glorify God?. There is too much mediocrity that is glorified in the Church. This is especially true for music!
I see aesthetic renewal as a significant horizon for the Church. Or maybe it's more like ressourcement. After all, from icons to Gothic cathedrals to Dante, the Church has nurtured a lot of the greatest art. Let's not forget that the Renaissance- - claimed as a benchmark for rational humanism-- happened in large part because the Church acted as a patron for Palestrina and Michelangelo and Raphael and many others. We need to nurture our own day's artists or else they will be making art on the terms of our increasingly destructive secular culture.
If you have not seen it, you should check out the journal "Image," which publishes excellent literature and art from a Judeo-Christian perspective. This is one of my beacons in a dark world.
1 Comments:
Dear Kevin,
Wonderful to hear from you! Thank you for your post. I am excited to respond to your queries, and to talk with you some more on the phone soon!
I think that what Schifrin was saying-- and I agree-- relates to the public worship of the Church. Certainly, all are exhorted to "make a joyful noise" in ways that best befits their unique personal gifts and dispositions.
What I think that what Schifrin and others are concerned about is that the very distinct and particular narrative of the Church-- a narrative about the unique particular personage Jesus-- is tied to certain practices and forms.
What I mean by "the fullness of the apostolic message" is quite plainly, the story about Jesus that folks of the Church have told over the ages-- what Jesus said and did, what he suffered, and above all, his resurrection.
A rough analogy for Christianity is that it's like a culture or a language. It has a certain grammar through which it expresses and articulates things and ideas. People who become part of the life of the Church, learn this language, and use it to articulate-- indeed, even to "experience" the world, as there is no experience that is not touched by language.
The "grammar" underlying all of the Church's expressions, though, is formed by the story about Jesus. This does not mean that the Church cannot positively encounter or evaluate other "languages," with other truth-claims informing their "grammars," but only that, whatever positive qualities are assimilated into the Christian language, they will be sublimated to the central grammatical impulse which is the conviction about Jesus.
I would say that there are many Christian practices that consitute our "language." Two very central ones are the reading and contemplation of the Bible and the Church's liturgy (which is roughly similar even in protestant Churches-- there is always reading of scripture, hymns, preaching, and in more & more places, regular celebration of the sacraments). These practices will always be evident in art that graces the Church's worship.
I hope that all of this makes sense, I know it must sound at least a bit convoluted! There is much more to be said. I just wanted to respond, and to affirm your concern for personal dignity and freedom, especially as regards praise and prayer.
I also, though, am concerned to preserve the distinct and particular story of the Church. I think that one ought to bring the riches of their cultural and personal gifts into the Church, rather than, as an individual, receiving the gifts of the Church and transforming them. The problem with the latter scheme is that the distinctive content of the message is in danger of becoming lost.
It is not fear or hatred of other "languages" of truth, but rather, a deep love for the distinct contours of the story that changes believers. It is a philosophical commitment to the "intratextuality" of the Bible-- that is, that the Bible interprets us not the other way around! And I am persuaded that the only place where this can really happen is in the Church, with all its distinctive practices.
But, of course, those distinctive practices should always be carried out in ways that glorify God by reflecting the beauty of the many persons and cultures that he created. The question for me is, how do we reflect that beauty (personal and cultural) and still maintain the distinctive story?!
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