I'll say this: the songs involve lots of repetition. As they cycle the same few words the effect on people like my brother and me is mind-numbing alienation. We are not thinking, I am being drawn into contemplation of the wonders of God, but rather, Oh no, please. Make it stop.
The musical style reminds me of pop songs I hear at work all day. As I pack merchandise in a warehouse, speakers blare songs that I have heard 500 times in the past few years. Some of these must have been composed by tortured souls suffering from Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. They repeat mindless phrases like "Anything can happen" or "Sending out an SOS" until you want to kill somebody. As I endure a Groundhog-Day loop of hearing performers chant phrases they can't stop repeating, I thank God for giving me the grace not to take a baseball bat to the speakers, pound them to silent smithereens, and walk out the door never to be seen again.
Sometimes I try to engage co-workers in conversations about the lyrics, and in so doing I have noticed an astonishing thing: it seems that virtually none of them has paid attention to the lyrics of any song. Maybe listening to the words and contemplating their meaning is a rare quirk that my brother and I share. This tendency gets us into trouble in many churches. For example, we are likely to ask, "What in the world does 'My soul now to stand' mean? And why didn't the writer bother conjugating the verb?"
Then there are the sermons. Don't get me started on those. The homiletic tradition in churches of the sort my brother and I have attended has fallen on hard times. Reverent exposition of sacred text is rare, and regurgitation of thoughtless catchphrases is rampant. I know seven - seven! - preachers who told their congregations, "Nothing you can do can make God love you more; nothing you can do can make God love you less." See the August 30, 2012 post for my angry retort explaining what the Bible actually says about the love of God. Wearied churchgoers might be excused for asking, "What's the point of listening to a preacher who pays so little attention to the text of Scripture that he winds up spouting drivel?"
So some Christians just stay home on Sunday morning. They have their reasons, many of which have nothing to do with the things that annoy my brother and me. Famous preachers A. W. Pink and A. W. Tozer both stopped going to church when they retired. One uncharitably suspects that the thing they had most liked about church was hearing themselves talk. Best-selling author Donald Miller recently caused a stir with a blog post explaining why he avoids church. His reason was cheerfully narcissistic: going to church does not benefit him. "I don't connect with God by singing to Him," he writes. "I don't learn much about God hearing a sermon...So, do I attend church? Not often, to be honest. Like I said, it’s not how I learn."
The childlike, unreflective self-centeredness of these words takes one's breath away. I'd like to ask Miller, "Do you do anything, anything at all, out of a sense of duty? Simply because it's the right thing to do? If you saw a crime victim lying unconscious beside the road to Jericho, would you stop to help him, or would you say, 'I don't connect with God by being a good Samaritan - that's just not how I learn'? Or maybe, 'Staying faithful to my wife is not one of the ways I build intimacy with God - I connect with him in other ways'? Miller, do all decisions that govern your behavior get filtered through the 'How will-it-benefit-me' grid? If so, then for heaven's sake please shut up and go pick a different religion. Christianity is not for you. To adapt a metaphor from Lyndon Johnson about J. Edgar Hoover, go pee in some other religion's tent."
Going to church is like showing mercy to the downtrodden, or giving generously, or living a life that is sexually chaste: it's one of those things you are commanded to do. Whether you like it or draw some benefit from it is quite beside the point. Hebrews 10:25 commands us not to forsake the assembling of ourselves together. Jesus commanded his followers to break bread together in remembrance of him (Luke 22:19). The Old Testament is filled with commandments to worship God in the company of his people: "Come let us worship and bow down; let us kneel before the Lord our maker" (Psalm 95:6); "Magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together" (Psalm 34:3). Note the plurals and the "with me's" and the "together's". Some of our worship has to be corporate. You are not asked to like it or be enriched by it. You are commanded to do it.
It is good for us to be given some commandments that are troublesome to obey. If we only did what came easily and naturally to us, how could we indicate to ourselves and others that we love God? A person who says "I will obey God as long as I happen to like it" or "as long as I see that it benefits me personally" really has no love for God at all. She loves only herself. A person who loves God will obey his commandments - when they are easy, yes, but especially when they are hard. That is the real test of love. "For this is the love of God, that we keep His commandments" (1 John 5:3).
But what if you are too physically ill or mentally troubled to attend church? Ok, you're excused. Just today I read a post from a woman whose disturbing church experiences left her "physically unable" to go to worship services. She writes, "I shake, I cry uncontrollably, my skin crawls, I am unable to speak. It’s pretty difficult to be a part of a community, broken or not, with all of that going on." Agreed. Sometimes you have to heal. Far be it from me to put pressure on a bruised reed, or to snuff out, with harsh words, a smoldering wick. Jesus wouldn't do that: "A bruised reed he will not break; a smoldering wick he will not snuff out" (Matthew 12:20).
But I do want to put lots and lots of pressure on all those healthy narcissists who call themselves Christians but who think that church-going is beneath them. Look, get over yourself. Obey God. If the songs and sermons at your church stink, fine, go somewhere else. Keep looking. Though I'm as Protestant as they come, I say, if need be, go to a Catholic Mass! At least you'll hear Scripture and participate in corporate worship of the Triune God. Just bite your lip when they say those prayers to Mary.
