Many of those exiting the evangelical tradition for liturgical churches list dissatisfaction with worship as a main reason. I have friends that have found a home among Anglican, Catholic, and Orthodox worshippers. I have read some cutting criticisms of contemporary worship by some of ex-evangelicals—criticisms that, I think, sometimes go astray.
Although I grew up on hymns and holiness gospel songs, I enjoy contemporary worship. At the Vineyard where I worship, there is no hint of entertainment, nor much emotionalism. But most folks stand with their hands raised throughout the service, but I saw more emotionalism in my early days in The Church of the Nazarene. Then people shouted, waved hankies, and occasionally would run the aisles while shouting, “Glory.” We called this being “blessed”. We sang some hymns, but mostly rousing gospel songs. I lived through and participated in the Jesus Movement which gave birth to contemporary Christian worship. I deeply appreciate both worship traditions.
One criticism which may be true in some instances is that evangelical worship appeals too much to people’s emotions—it tries with music or lighting or amplifiers to create a religious feeling. This criticism, however, assumes anything felt is merely emotional. But must the desire to experience the presence of God—the moving of the Holy Spirit—be reduced to emotionalism? Can we worship and adore Emmanuel, God with us, without in sensing His presence? When we are together as living stones made into a temple of the Holy Spirit, is it not good and right to experience the Spirit’s presence? Must this be dismissed as an immature need for feelings or exploitive emotionalism.
An emotional response to the good news of God’s love and our salvation through the grace of Jesus is simply realism. I would argue that even where I worship, we need more emotion, not less. Feelings of adoration, celebration, and gratitude should flood our hearts as we worship God. I have always objected to idea that one could express such emotions only if “blessed” or “moved by Spirit”. I worship because I am moved by the truth and because God, no matter how I feel, is worthy of all my praise. I am a realist.
Regarding worship, it is easy to confuse personal taste with critical evaluation. The result is that we sometimes criticize contemporary worship for things rampant in the Psalms. Contemporary worship is repetitive, some complain. Not like hymns that have the same chorus after each verse? Have they ever read Psalm 136? Really, can’t we just say once that “God’s lovingkindness endures forever”? When we shift from worship that is mental assent to biblical propositions to worship that adores, exalts, and praises God repetition is less likely to exhaust our patience.
Others complain it emphasizes the individual’s experience too much instead of teaching deep theological truths. Have they read David’s songs of complaint and praise? I read one critic who complained about how often the personal pronoun “I” comes up in contemporary worship.He cited this as evidence of narcissism. I took this criticism seriously until I looked at the personal pronouns in “Amazing Grace”. I think there is nothing narcissistic about proclaiming “I once was lost, but now am found/Was blind but now I see.” Celebrating grace that saves a “wretch like me” is humble. The hymn “Love Lifted Me” like many gospel songs is a testimony to power of God’s love to save us out of sin and despair. I suspect, however, if we added some drums and lighting some would be quick to call it shallow and narcissistic.
We should also avoid skewering contemporary worship for what it omits. I recently read a list of contemporary worship songs that should be avoided because they failed to place God’s love and our salvation in the context of covenant. Since I begin each day singing hymns with my wife, I noticed that none of the ones we regularly sang mentioned our covenant relationship with God. Some failed to mention the trinity. In fact, almost any hymn can be criticized for what failed to include.
Special effects and staging, I suspect, are a matter of taste and tradition. If you think about it, Catholic tradition is full of special effects. The architecture, acoustics, stained-glass windows, and candles offer amplification and special lighting. Cathedral pipe organs playing Bach can not fail to leave a believer untouched by glory of God. I once worshipped in an Anglican church in Nampa, Idaho (of all places) where the priest swung the censor as he walked down the aisle at the beginning of the service. I liked it but some old-time Anglicans complained.
Most Protestants, however, have viewed all special effects with suspicion. In fact, we are sometimes guilty of acting as if ugly is more spiritual. Part of my spiritual heritage is Quaker—who celebrated plainness in everything, including their meeting halls. No pastor preached but all waited until someone felt led by the Spirit to speak. The goal these days for Protestant buildings is usually functionality rather than beauty. It seems, however, that if God is the Lord of our body, soul, and spirit that is right for worship to appeal to both our senses and our minds, our body and our spirit. Maybe God likes beauty.
A final criticism of contemporary worship is simply that it has become too much like the world. If worship looks too much like a rock concert, it is inherently worldly. But, it is implied, if people sit quietly like those attending a classical music concert, they are not worldly. It is equivalent of saying jeans are worldly, but the suit worn by a greedy Wall Street tycoon isn’t. Too often Christians stand or sit frozen in their pews singing psalms about shouting or dancing unto the Lord.
Last of all, I think it is easy for ex-evangelicals to fall prey to “convert zeal” when looking back at their evangelical experience. I have a taste of this as I have read Catholic and Orthodox writers on the contemplative tradition and attended some masses. I feel like I have stepped off into the deep end as I read Ignatius Loyola’s Spiritual Exercises or St. John of the Cross’s Dark Night of the Soul.The need to practice spiritual disciplines to grow in Christ seem practical and refreshing. Even the sacrament of confession, seems needed and powerful—if not limited to priests.
But if I am honest, those in these liturgical traditions did not share my excitement—most had not read their own spiritual fathers. Many went to church occasionally and for many God had little impact on their daily lives. It is therefore important to see that spiritual stagnation is not limited to the evangelicals or any one group. It also true that nationalism can take the church captive anywhere—as we see with Orthodoxy in Ukraine and Russia right now.
What then brothers and sisters? First, let’s not mistake nostalgia or personal taste for discernment. Let’s reject all emotional manipulation whether done with liturgy and ritual or lasers and smoke machines. Third, let’s not raise any tests for worship that David’s psalms or our beloved hymns cannot pass.
Lettuce worship!
