Turn Off The Music

To be honest, I like going to church, but there are some Sundays I'd rather stay home and watch the livestream. But here's what actually happens when I plan to do that. I rarely do it. Too many distractions. I could watch YouTube, or go into the kitchen and make something to eat, or sit out on the deck and enjoy the sun. Even with good intentions, the livestream doesn't always happen. And if I'm watching a recording instead of the live service, I'll fast-forward through the sermon more than I probably should.

So why go at all? Hebrews 10:25 tells us. "Not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the day drawing near." Even back then, some people had made a habit of skipping church. The writer of Hebrews doesn't scold them into silence, he tells the rest of us not to follow that habit, and he tells us what we're supposed to be doing when we do show up.

We're supposed to encourage one another. Galatians 6:2 says to "carry each other's burdens", and Romans 12:15 says "to rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn." That's fellowship. It's nice seeing people who believe what you believe, and catching up on what's going on in their lives.

Here's where it gets hard for me. I look around during worship and I see people singing along, hands raised, swaying, clearly moved. Not jumping up and down like some of the more charismatic churches I've been part of, but clearly caught up in something. And I stand there and think, if only I had a relationship with the Lord like that person seems to have.

I pray every day. I read the Bible daily, even lead Bible studies. And still I can stand in a room full of people who look like they're feeling something I'm not feeling, and I wonder what's wrong with me.

Of course, I have no idea what's actually going on inside anyone else's heart. Nobody does except the Lord. Someone can look outwardly spiritual and be somewhere completely different on the inside, and I can look flat and dead on the outside while something real is happening underneath. That's the danger of comparing yourself to what you can see in the person next to you. Worship was never supposed to be a competition of visible emotion. You can worship the Lord standing perfectly still, without a tear, without your hands ever leaving your sides.

I would be fine, honestly, if the whole service had no music at all. Announcements on the screen, fine, put the old bulletin back if you want my preference, then straight into the preaching of the Word. That's what I'm there for. I know that's not how most people feel, or maybe more people feel that way than any of us realize.

And that leads me to the part of this I didn't expect to end up talking about as much as I have, the music itself.

I can't even lean on the lyrics anymore to tell me who I'm actually worshiping. Take most of what gets sung in churches today, Hillsong, Bethel, Elevation, whichever name you want to put on it. The songs are almost all "I." I feel, I want, I need, I'm reaching. I didn't come to church to worship a worship leader, and I didn't come to worship my own feelings, but a lot of those lyrics point you right back at yourself.

Now take the old hymns. I'm not saying throw out every contemporary song and sing nothing but hymns, that's not my point. But the hymns are built differently. There's very little "I" in them. They're aimed at God, not at the singer's internal state, and they carry real theology, more depth in four verses than a lot of what gets played during a worship set at church.

Musically, a hymn usually stays in one key from start to finish, same tempo, same volume. The words carry the weight. Contemporary worship music is built the opposite way. There's a lull, then a key change, then a swell in volume right before the chorus, all of it engineered to produce a feeling. That's not an accident. The music industry knows exactly how to do that, and the church has borrowed the same tools. Anybody can write four chords that make you feel like you're one step closer to heaven. That doesn't mean the Holy Spirit showed up. It might just mean the sound engineer did his job.

Why do I go to church? Because Hebrews tells me not to neglect it. Because I need the encouragement of other believers, and they need mine. Not because I need a key change to feel close to God.

Ask yourself something. What would your church service look like with no music at all? Would the preaching of God's Word be enough on its own? Would sitting with other believers be enough? Would encouraging one another, without a single song, be enough?

And if your church does altar calls, here's a harder question still. If the lights stayed up and the music never played, could the Holy Spirit still save someone ? Or has He come to depend on the mood we set for Him?

Think about the day of Pentecost. Peter stood up and preached the gospel in broad daylight. No band. No dimmed lights. No music at all. Just the word of God, spoken plainly, and three thousand people were saved that day. God didn't need atmosphere then, and He doesn't need it now.

So here's my suggestion, and I know most church leaders reading this will never take it. Turn off the music for just one Sunday. Trust that God's Word is enough on its own to convict a sinner and save a soul. Romans 1:16 says ""the gospel itself is the power of God for salvation, to everyone who believes." Not the gospel plus the right key change. The gospel.

Go to church. Don't neglect it. And if music matters to you, let it be the music the Lord puts in your own heart, not just what's handed to you from the stage. David said it in Psalm 40:3, "He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God..." Sing the song the Lord gives you. That's the best worship you'll ever offer Him, better than anything you're led to sing by somebody standing up front with a microphone.