Author’s note: In what follows, I draw heavily on conversations with, as well as lectures and interviews by Ken Myers of Mars Hill Audio, currently recovering from a heart attack at his home in Virginia. I hope this piece, with our prayers, will cheer and heal.
“By the twelfth century,” Christopher Page writes in his magisterial The Christian West and Its Singers (2010), “the Latin West could be imagined as a soundscape of Latin chant.” From the eighth-century alliance of Pope Stephen with the Frankish King Pippin, a Frankish-Roman “repertory of plainsong” spread throughout Europe, suppressing competitors. By the end of the first millennium, cathedral singers in Hungary knew the same liturgy and sang the same chants for the same days as monastic singers in Spain and Sweden. When monasteries and hospitals expanded Christendom’s reach to frontier areas, they took their music with them. The sonic space of Christian cities was delimited by the sounding of bells.
In the eastern Mediterranean and North Africa, Christendom’s soundscape was demolished by Islam as the wails of muezzins replaced tolling bells. “There is only the abominable melody of Saracens where there should be the worship of Jesus Christ and chant,” lamented a Franciscan friar after the fall of Crusader Jerusalem. The medieval soundscape took another hit during the Reformation, when metrical Psalms, chorales, or modified plainchant displaced Latin chant wherever Protestantism took hold. Still, for centuries after the Reformation, and across the Reformation divides, churches continued to cultivate a distinctive culture of liturgical music.
What Islam and the Reformation initiated, American churches have completed, voluntarily. Beginning with the charismatic revival and the Jesus movement, the most theologically conservative Protestant churches abandoned the tradition of Christian music and took on musical styles adapted from popular music. It has been an astonishingly rapid and thoroughgoing change. Praise songs routed gospel hymns, and today Reformation-era Psalms and chorales are unknown in wide swathes of American Protestantism. Presbyterian theologian T. David Gordon captures the shift with an anecdote about a theology student at a Protestant seminary puzzled by a professor’s reference to Luther’s “A Mighty Fortress.” Musically, evangelicals are all charismatics now.
I am not assessing the quality, theology, or sincerity of contemporary worship music. I merely observe the fact, and offer a preliminary interrogation of its cultural sources and effects. What ideas, standards, and forces shape liturgical music? And, what does the church’s musical culture say about the church and its future?
Contemporary worship music is, for starters, “contemporary.” Of course, the age of music doesn’t determine its quality, but that bromide misses the point. In a world peopled by advertisers and entertainers, “contemporary” is a hurrah word, a marketing tool, branding liturgical music that is fashionable, up-to-date, oozing youthful cool. Contemporary is young, and young is good. The desire to make worship more appealing to young people was a major impulse behind the development of contemporary Christian music in the first place. The magnitude of this shift cannot be overestimated. Culture is a gift from the old to the young, and the younger generation’s grateful reception is a sign of honor for fathers. Cultural transmission has been thrown into reverse, also in the church.
Contemporary music arose just as general music education collapsed in our schools. As Ken Myers points out, the church did nothing to fill the gap, apparently content to let advertisers, disk jockeys, the Stones, Steve Jobs, and Madonna provide musical training for Christians, especially young ones. It is no surprise that contemporary worship music takes its cues from commercial pop. No surprise, but surely a concern. Pop music is a relatively new cultural phenomenon with its own set of commercially driven values—accessibility, immediacy, instant gratification, freedom, sex. It has its own, extremely limited, range of musical and emotional possibilities. For all its variety, pop music is dismally monophonic. Transgression is encouraged, so long as it doesn’t get too close to the music. Lady Gaga wears her meat dresses and Rihanna feigns sex on stage, but when the music starts they are both as frothy as Justin Bieber. There can be no Stravinsky of pop music.
Expertise is one of the values of modern culture, but expertise has always had a limited scope. We trust experts in physics and computer programming and perhaps foreign affairs. But the suggestion that there are experts in aesthetics, musicians who know what music one should appreciate, is greeted with hostility, also in the church. “I know what I like” stops every argument, buttressed by “Musical taste is subjective.” Lebanese organist Naji Hakim has lamented that in the Catholic Church “many in positions of liturgical responsibility, with no musical education as regards technique or aesthetics, have come to believe in a tabula rasa, denying any lineage whatsoever.” Professional musicians have been “sidelined” as “the lost common denominator has become the rule.” He wonders whether Catholics “realize the level of mediocrity which the present liturgy has reached.”
The church created the soundscape for Western Christendom because she cultivated her own musical life in the liturgy that united human voices with the angelic choirs of heaven. I can hardly imagine a more worrisome sign of worldliness, or clearer evidence of the church’s identity crisis, than our eager renunciation of our own soundscape and our determination instead to reproduce the world’s.
Peter J. Leithart is pastor of Trinity Reformed Church in Moscow, Idaho, and Senior Fellow of Theology and Literature at New St. Andrews College. His most recent book is Athanasius (Baker Academic).
Become a fan of First Things on Facebook, subscribe to First Things via RSS, and follow First Things on Twitter.
Comments:
Yes, better a dinner of bitter herbs where love is...but even better than that, love and steak together. Maybe our churches need more musical nourishment than we're currently getting.
If there is a dirth of theologically deep, musically rich, majestic song in evangelicalism, I really feel it. But as someone converted into a charismatic milieu, I must remind myself of another side. Talk to a few people raised with hymns (and the unnecessary dryness that came with) but who fell in with the early Vineyard movement. They will describe it like a breath of fresh air, liberating and life-giving.
As a young upstart who would love to go back to ancient psalms and hymns I must listen to my middle-aged elders and remember why the pendulum swung the way it did. All things being perfect, depth, majesty, richness, history and life would be woven together.
The essence of art makes it a very difficult object to defend against attacks from relativist points of view. Estalishing a standard of judgement may find its best appeal in down to earth honesty with oneself: when I listen to Mozart's requem mass, do I experience the same movements of the soul as when I hear "Come to Jesus" with a rock/jazz rhythm? Ithink we'd be disingenuous with ourselves if we equate them.
Is one more appropriate after I've received communion, received the almighty God who has taken on such a humble form? These are important questions. And begging reflection on them is in no sense impetutous.
But as for "you get what you pay for", our music director is paid for part time work as much as our priest. Yet I dread Christmas in which we get to sing two hymns each mass: O Come All Ye Faithful for the processional and Joy to the World as the recessional. Over, and over, through all the days of Christmas! Never thought I could hate those lovely old carols but after five years of nothing but.....
Music does nourish the soul and make worhsip beautiful. While I do understand that matters of "taste" vary, and compromise to a degree is unavoidable, the Catholic Church could stand for excellence and worshipful music based on the wide traditions of Christian music, including its own. Instead, I often leave mass in a state of extreme irritation at our unreflective acceptance of whatever is thrust upon us.
Personally, I love all kinds of music. And nothing pleases me more than when my 8-yr-old daughter comes home from school and teaches me the new hymn of the day, commenting about how the high "fa" note is hard to reach, or being excited about the different rhythm that her teacher proposed for the song. Another pleasure: this past weekend, we had 16 adults and 24 children in our none-too-large home filling the space with four-part harmony acapella. Working from a hymnal that is less than a year old, everyone was eagerly scouring the 1,000 plus songs with shaped note to see which ones they knew and which were new.
And I'd rather have those innovative hymns, whether they are based on Palestrina ("The Strife is O'er") or written by 19th century pastor's wives ("Nearer, Still Nearer") or by German Pietists (Gerhard Tersteegen). And if someone proposes Kumbaya at the campfire, I'm not going to make mild comments about the disappearance of plainsong. Nor would I trade the verve of the music culture in our home for an aesthetic of liturgical uniformity that Leithart aches for.
Happily, I found someone you might consider serious: Kevin Allen.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RffFlo0r274&feature=related
Cheers,
Mark
These are hard issues, but you love all kinds of music and it's as simple as that. Your daughter sang "Fa" and made you happy. You like burgers, but if someone likes Twinkies, good for them! Just not too many; well, that's probably alright as well. After all, there was a starving man and all he had to eat were Twinkies; who am we to judge Twinkies? We should stop judging starving people. Ben, is it possible you love all kinds of people and places and things, not like Leithart and other narrow-minded curmudgeons? Can't they see the pleasures of detachment from the past?
I was going to say that writing an article in a periodical dedicated to theological reflection is hardly the same thing as snickering at your fellow Kumbaya-fans around the campfire. A call for reflection about the music in our churches does not equal a call for snobbery and divisiveness.
As for liturgical uniformity, I don't see Leithart arguing for that in this piece.
Good for you enjoying music--in all its wonderful variety--in your home.
This actually hits the heart of the issue: aesthetic relativism. Tash is not Aslan, and neither are Tash's cultural artifacts comparable to Aslan's. Inability to distinguish the musical stylings of a foreign god, whether he be Allah or some idol of our contemporary culture, and those of our own Triune God, is the root of failure in American liturgy. Music designed for other occasions, whether public worship of a false god, or sexual inflammation of the youth, or anti-war rallies, or innocent birthday parties around a campfire, is not suited to the worship of God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. That is a unique occasion, and there is none like it, just as there is no deity like Him. We ought to recognize that it requires unique music, too. Unchurched people ought to enter a church and think, "There is no music quite like that that I've heard."
The lamenting Fransiscan friar in the 12th century certainly had cause to miss the Angelus when it was replaced with a numbingly simple affirmation that God is great and the stunningly false proclamation that Mohamed is His prophet. But for me, as someone who has lived a good chunk of life in both Christian and Saracen lands, I can affirm there is something they retain, no matter how misguided, that we have lost.
As for the "better herbs and love than ox and discord" comment, Mr. Embry and those who follow miss of the point. This is sacred music we are talking about - i.e., it's in church among fellow believers. The love is implicit. The question is whether we give herbs or meat in our offerings to the Lord. Please refer to the story of Cain and Abel to see which the Lord appreciated more.
"Since the death of Olivier Messiaen, apart from Arvo Pärt and Sir John Taverner, I cannot think of a serious contemporary composer of liturgical music."
Where have you discovered this body of liturgical music by Messiaen? It certainly isn't published or known to specialists.
Does it not seem clear from our Lord that the worship He loves is childlike? When He says that the glad cheers of children are the thing preventing the stones from crying out, does it not expose the wrongheaded approach to worship that is grounded in particular worship traditions or musical designs? The OT records David's exuberant dancing with approval, and condemns the liturgical purist, David's wife Michal.
I'm not sure if i follow everyrhing that Art wrote, but Art, it isn't that my delight in music is its own justification. It's rather that this business of tracking a supposed worldliness in liturgy is not justified by any measure of significance.
Leithart asked,"What ideas, standards and forces shape liturgical music?". One hymn says that "Love consecrates the humblest act". I hoped to show that this is true- even humble tunes sung for the Lord. Is that an acceptable aesthetic standard? The scriptures speak of all tongues and tribes being represented in the consummate worship of the Lord, and I'd like to think that the particular idiom of worship is negligible, and that that negligence is part of the beauty of worship- not a sign of declining liturgical standards per se.
Anyway, of the three most intimate activities that we humans can participate in woth each other, two of them are eating together and singing together. And I'd be ready to enjoy that with Art, or any of the rest of you. But no Twinkies. Even though the son of the sweet singer of Israel might qualify that restriction. Better is a dinner of Twinkies where love is....
Pride Indeed.
Pride: We don't need to follow instructions from Rome that have been given recognitio, we're Americans!
I agree; pride is the first problem.
The piano and choral “Trois petites liturgies de la présence divine,” the piano pieces “Vingt regards sur l'enfant-Jésus”, the organ piece “La Nativité du Seigneur” to name a few
For those who say you get what you pay for in a music program, I answer that our music program costs precisely nothing except the paper to print the propers on. Our liturgy is reverent, beautiful, other-worldly and I am loathe to go to Church anywhere else because, even though Jesus is present in every Eucharist, my heart misses the chant that IS the sound of liturgy to me. Everything else is just an imitation.
We don't need new composers, we don't need high-dollar music programs. We need fidelity to the rich tradition of beautiful music that the east still cherishes and the west, outside of Latin Trad Catholics, has tossed by the wayside.
I have come to regard anyone who uses the juxtaposition "traditional" vs. "contemporary" as almost hopelessly lacking understanding of what they are saying. What they really mean is "old" vs. "new." But a living tradition is always contemporary.
A local fellowship church has now introduced a service they call "The Classic," featuring old-time hymns. Seems the young adults were turning off to the "praise services," with the guitars and drums. "We hear that music all the time," they said.
Part One:
http://www.catholicculture.org/culture/library/view.cfm?id=8485
Part Two:
http://www.catholicculture.org/culture/library/view.cfm?recnum=8790
Also highly recommend Thomas Day's book "Why Catholics Can't Sing."
Alas, the Eastern, too, according to some musicians and thinkers. The Orthodox are not all on the same page, musically (though no doubt there's a greater sense of one-mindedness among them than among U.S. evangelicals). Some regard all that four-(or more)-part music from Russia and other Slavic lands -- which for many of us really is the soundscape of Orthodoxy -- as an unfortunate "Western" development.
Meanwhile, here's a comment I ran across just the other day, at orthodoxtwopartmusic.org:
"Is it time to simplfy in order to reflect a deeper quality of Orthodox Life? It was once said that the return of the Byzantine style icons in the early mid 1900's would also neccesitate a change in its liturgical companion, Orthodox music."
Although the earthly Church is but a shadow of the spiritual Church, when we turn our sensory receptors to witness the palpable achievements of the Church we see that a blinding transcendence abounds.
From plainchant through Arvo Pärt, the last thousand years of the Catholic Church’s music is illuminated by the guiding touch of the Good Shepherd’s hand. The invasion of the mediocre “popular” music, an evocation of Dionysian titillation, into the Mass has jammed the reception of the authentic spiritual infusion that occurs in those minutes when the Flesh and Blood is woven into our flesh and blood.
Last Sunday in my local Church these moments were accompanied by the electronically amplified singing of “Kumbayah”, a folk-spiritual whose contemporary meaning has become soaked in promiscuity, self-justifying arrogance, and pot. Silence would be better. The urge of the Shepherd’s hand that comes gloved in Gregorian Chant would also be better.
Our adversaries understand the power of music better than we do. The suppression of The Church’s magnificent music is not an accident, nor is it the least important strategy of aggressive defamation, that has damaged the faith of Catholics. Those that have left the Church are said to have “lost” their faith. Actually their faith was maliciously assassinated.
For at little over half a decade when I first became Catholic, I led a "contemporary music group (back in the '90's). When I programmed music at mass based on the comments of fawning parishoners, it never felt quite right, but I was not understanding why: NO ONE was telling me I was doing anything wrong by programming easy-to-sing and easy-listening toe-tapping gospel-style music at communion, but a still small voice within me was indicating conflict with the liturgical action and aesthetic.
Years later, I now realize that part of the problem with "baptizing" non-traditional tunes and styles for use in the mass is that we do not control the meanings and associations of those tunes and styles as they are used outside of mass. If by inviting the congregation to sing "Change My Heart O God" with a syrupy-sweet chord structure and the sultry-slinky rhythm of a lingerie commercial, I cause even one of these little ones to stumble, would it not be better for me to be thrown into the sea with an electric piano tied around my neck?
Like the camel going through the eye of the needle, I suppose that it is theoretically possible for this kind of music not to make anyone stumble, but I for am no longer willing to risk it. The associations of Palestrina or Monteverdi with worldliness are no longer widespread except for history buffs, but it will take generations if not centuries to change the association of guitar-bass-drum set-keyboard combo with loose morals.
But Peter's point about the church loosing her soundscape is well taken, just a bit tepid. The soundscape isn't lost. It's dead. As a door-nail. Here are two pictures of its funeral.
http://theratzingerforum.yuku.com/topic/524/Papal-apartment-and-family?page=47#.TsmeZ_F9
The first is a picture of the pope shaking his brother's hand after a Sistine Chapel performance of Mozart's Mass in C minor given by the Lintz orchestra and the Stella Doufexis choir in honor of Monsignor Georg Ratzinger's 85 birthday (Georg Ratzinger is the pope's brother). Go back and read that again. A picture (yep, the media is invited). The Sistine Chapel. The Pope. Mozart. The Mass in C minor. Performance. That last one is the important one. "Performance." The mass is performed without the mass being celebrated. Even the music lover pope, in the Sistine Chapel (that same place where Palestrina worked and from which we get the term "a capella") didn't have Mozart's music function as Mozart intended it: as an accompaniment, and an adornment, to the celebration of the Eucharist. It's just played. You get the aesthetic thrills, and the eternal life available through the reception of the sacrament that was the reason why Mozart wrote this music, where's it? Yeah, well, you know, the Pope (and we're not talking about a simple parish priest here, we're talking about the Pope himself) must think that relationship just isn't that important. You can skip that part. We'll just have the music. And we'll have pictures of me just listening to it available for the whole world to see. The music lives. The "sacred" part? Yep. Dead.
The second is Michael W. Smith's "A New Hallelujah." You can see it here (along with an ad for Byonce "Live at Roseland").
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nBxOkruKpqI
It's cool, it's up beat, it's got fly-over camera work. It's even got a cute African children's choir. And it's spiritual and kinda Christian but not in a Jesusee way. There's a good reason for that.
Jesus is a problem. He's specific, and that kind of narrow specificity might turn people off, so he's just best not mentioned. You can use "church" (after all, even the Moonies have a church) and you can use a generic "He" (Krishna, Jesus, Che Guevara, the Maitreya -- they all could work). Just don't mention "the Name." Evangelicals, who used to get pretty heated over how important "naming the name" was, can pretend they hear it, and pretending is good enough, just as long as they buy it.
Buy it. Yep. It's about business. Although he does not record on it, Smith began Rocketown Records in 1996. Today the label is partly owned by Word Records which is itself co-owned by Warner Music Group and Curb Records (Warner Music Group is partners with MTV and since May, 2011, has been part of Access Industries, the toy of the Russian billionaire Len Blavatnik). Smith was one of the first artists to record with Reunion Records, based in Brentwood, Tennessee. Reunion became business partners with David Geffen (yes, that David Geffen) and has gone through several marriages but is now part of Sony BMG Music Entertainment. Provident-Integrity Distribution, which distributes material for the Provident Label Group, is also a division of Sony Music Entertainment.
Mr. Smith may be a very fine person, but Michael W. Smith is a business. And business is business. Find a niche, focus-group it, exploit it, maximize profit and don't limit your market by alienating potential customers and that name "Jesus," okay, at some dim future every knee might bow but right now we're only concerned about this morning's stock report; "long term" is the quarterly report sent to Tokyo, and "Jesus" just narrows our customer base. Can it.
"Sacred"? What, you kidding? Sure. Pass the sake. We'll toast the deceased.
On the one hand there's an ecclesiastical culture so infatuated with aesthetics it's lost sight that the beautiful bottle exists only because there's a more beautiful perfume for it to contain--and dispense. And on the other hand there's a music business so desperate for every buck it can capture that it will surrender anything to the quarterly bottom line -- even the name of the Savior who I expect Mr. Smith loves.
When the Pope doesn't know that Mozart's "mass" is meaningless without being a "mass" -- and particularly with him attending it as an audience member and not as a congregant, and when Michael W. Smith cagily skates around the name of his Savior, avoiding it for the purposes of profit, we're witnessing a Christian "soundscape" so dim as to be non-existent. It existed once. When something that existed once doesn't any more, we call that dead.
PS. Ben, about what we can call the "resonance" of things, like music, you're exactly right. Pieces of music don't exist in a vacuum and they all carry with them cultural references. If they didn't we composers wouldn't have anything really to work with.
PPS. And before y'all say that I'm just cursing the darkness in the funeral home instead of lighting that candle, well, I've tried. It's still really dark.
http://www.refinersfire.us/page8/page8.html
Sacred music does not have a big following for folks born in the 80s onwards, it is not popular as the holy mass was never a popular event because it has always been looked at as an obligation. However, should that paradigm change by more people understanding that the sabbath was made for man to WORSHIP GOD, (nuthin more, and less) then everything else will follow.
Ever since the 14th century, (think of Graneti, Defronciaco, Loÿs, "Baralipton", Cordier, Tapissier and de Thenis) composers of sacred music have produced works that are "unsingable by a congregation."
To exclude, in effect, the whole legacy of late Mediaeval, Renaissance, Baroque, Classical, Romantic and Modern sacred music from the liturgy would be an impoverishment indeed
My blog www.catholic-worship.com tries to gain a better understanding of Catholic music, including Traditional, contemporary, Chasrismatic, Contemplative and so on AS WELL the contexts of worship in order to help Catholic musicians of particular genres appropriate themselves to the principles instead of preferences. I applaud the author and intend on passing this article on to my readers as well. God bless.
The fervor of your feeling for the sacred element within musical settings of the Mass is wonderful to witness. Perhaps you do not know that your intense candle is shining here in this room as I read your comment. I cannot help but want to hear the music you might compose as a setting of the Mass.
I caution that your criticism of the use of a Mozart Mass in a concert setting by this very musical Pope to honor the birthday of his older brother is misplaced. His brother is a priest and was the longtime conductor of the Regensburger Domspatzen. Devout Mozart would be surprised that you view it as disrespectful to listen to his Masses apart from the actual ritual. As, I am confident you know, concert performances of this genre of music have always been a common practice especially for the great quasi-operatic Masses that are masterpieces as well as being liturgical music. Some were composed with that in mind.
These musical missionaries travel the secular world, evoking the sacred meaning of the Mass, much as does viewing Leonardo da Vinci’s “The Last Supper”. These “performances” sometimes draw someone to attend an Eucharistic Mass. Many souls have been wooed into the Body of Christ by these settings of the Mass, encountered out in the secular world.
I do not think that the times I have read the words of the Mass to non-believers as poetry I was being disrespectful. Some hearers are even inspired. At this pre-dawn moment my CD player is playing the wonderful Fritz Reiner recording of the Verdi Requiem, a “performance” that awakens day dreams of being at Mass as it has for me these last 52 years. I do not understand the idea that I am disrespecting Verdi or God and his gift to us at the Last Supper.
For a great part of your concern you will find a ally in Pope Benedict XVI.
Link to : http://www.catholicculture.org/culture/library/view.cfm?id=4041
For anyone interested in this topic I highly recommend two essays by Anthony Esolen - one on the music, the other on lyrics.
Pretty interesting essays, thanks for sharing!
Thank you for your very kinds words, I really do appreciate them. I actually have written a mass. It's available on line for free. It's dedicated to Charles Chaput and you can listen to it here:
http://www.refinersfire.us/page10/page11/page11.html
But it's really not supposed to be "listened to" and I explain that here:
http://issuu.com/cmac13/docs/the_caput_mass/2
And while I really do appreciate your kind words, I don't give a rat's petooey about my candle and neither should you (I'd use much stronger language but the FT folks probably wouldn't allow it). The candle isn't important, it's what it lights-up that's important. And that's Jesus. And I think that by so dramatically highlighting a non-liturgical performance of a Mozart mass in the Sistine Chapel the Pope set a very poor example. It looks like he's more interested in the candle than he is in what it's supposed to light up. If he wanted to just have a concert performance there are lots of spots in the Vatican where that could be done, he didn't have to have it in a chapel, and THAT chapel (the Paul IV Audience Hall is a good spot for a concert, there's a decent DVD of the Bernstein "Mass" on the market that was filmed there). But I'm not only disagreeing with the Pope here, I'm been carrying on a public complaint with the organization "Soli Deo Gloria" about this for a while and what I've criticized the pope for is fleshed out in those longer arguments with that Chicago area group here:
http://issuu.com/cmac13/docs/solo_deo_gloria_web/2).
You write "many souls have been wooed into the Body of Christ by these settings of the Mass, encountered out in the secular world." Okay, well that brings us to what I'll mention to MDF below but while I wish what you say were true, I don't think it is, I don't think I've ever met someone who's become a Christian primarily because of a lovely piece of music. I'd love for you to introduce me to some. I'm not being sarcastic. I really would (I've heard rumors from missionaries in Japan that Bach's music has been instrumental in converting some Japanese to Christ but those are only rumors, maybe they're true). On the other hand I know dozens of people who were raised listening and performing the greatest works of sacred music who have become quite happy, well adjusted, and thoughtful atheists (the composer Rico Muhly is one, the conductor Simon Carrington, who sang with the King's Singers and lead the choral program at Yale's Institute of Sacred Music is another).
And MDF, a couple of things. First, the scripture tells us that a servant is worthy of his hire. I most certainly don't have a problem with making a living but I do have a problem with being in a partnership with some of the most corrupt businesses around and enriching them. Mr Smith could very easily form his own completely independent company. So far he hasn't.
Second, the Balaam's ass argument trumps all. God's uses what He will for His purposes. Even an ass. But apparently that's a last resort. There are better ways and I think that engaging in simony (which can be defined as using the Holy Spirit for personal profit) isn't one of the better ways. It's a kind of a fraud, and I wrote about that eleven years ago in the pages of First Things, referencing Charlie Peacock and his book on Christian contemporary music. You can access the FT article here:
http://www.firstthings.com/article/2007/01/apostles-of-rock-the-splintered-world-of-contemporary-christian-music-and-at-the-crossroads-an-insiders-look-at-the-past-present-and-future-of-contemporary-christian-music-11
A bit of history, old and contemporary: J.S. Bach's music was at one time new but most his contemporaries didn't see his work as innovative, he was well known as a musical conservative (he was "old Bach"). And you mention Rutter. Rutter, who is an agnostic, has made a good deal of money for himself and his publishers by selling to churchgoers’ perfectly inoffensive sonic drivel. Well some folks are enthusiastic about drivel sermons, with Rutter they get music to match. And any case, I'm sorry but I don't have a lot of patience with the "bring the audience closer to God" business. How do you know and are you sure? Somewhere I misplaced my "Godometer", that device that you can hold up check how close the folks around you are to the Divine (it's kinda like that applause meter that was used in the old "Queen For A Day" TV show; if you're too young to know the show google it, there are segments up on YouTube). God only knows how close, or distant, we are from him. And artists are tricksters. We can fool you. We might even be able to trick you into feeling that you've encountered something "divine." I can prove it. Go to this YouTube site:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NRWbp6yZzlE
Listen to the piece and at three minutes and thirty-nine seconds you'll have a modest feeling of uplift. A bit of euphoria. You'll have another one at four minutes and forty eight seconds. Are these religious experiences? I don't know for sure, maybe (Balaam's ass business again) but I am certain that I've used some well-worn musical devices to provoke a predictable emotional response, at least a predictable emotional response from Western concertgoers. It's a tick. Like the rabbit in the hat.
And Ben Embry: Thanks also for that kind comment about "Second Spring." I love Jody's poetry and I love writing music for it. But again, the poetry and music of the carol isn't important, it's the heart of the person who sings it. Beautiful carols can be sung to one's damnation as well as blessing; the difference doesn't depend on the music or the words but upon the heart of the singer.
And finally about Anthony Esolen's piece on music that's been referenced here. Sorry, he's really dead wrong about at least one thing. Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Vaughan Williams, me...we're all arrogant narcissists. We actually expect our listeners to do nothing else with their lives, for ten minutes or several hours, but listen to our music. A furthermore we expect performers to devote months and even years to learn it and to perform it. Novelists don't expect their readers to re-write their books. Architects don't expect the people who walk through their buildings to take up stones and re-built them. But composers expect their performers to do just that -- to recreate their works. It's just about the most arrogant thing anyone can do. To get along we'll pretend humility, but I assure you we're not. Oops, maybe I just gave that secret away, maybe you've noticed (I said composers were arrogant, not humorless).


