I don’t know about you, but the more we return to normal in the American Church, the more I realize how much I’ve missed congregational singing. God bless technology–it helped us immensely during the pandemic, keeping us at least somewhat in touch with our local fellowships during quarantines–but singing at home to a TV screen’s audio accompaniment doesn’t compare to being in a sanctuary with others and lifting our praises together as one body in Christ. Hence, there’s no time like the present for worship leaders to put even more thought into the important ministry of putting songs on the lips of God’s people.
Because congregational song is a passion of mine–it was the focus of my doctoral thesis at the Robert E. Webber Institute for Worship Studies–many of my periodic blog posts focus on the subject. (Anyone who reads this blog frequently will be familiar with the theme of inclusivity that runs through the posts.) I was reminded of the importance of song selection a few weeks ago when the worship team at the church my wife and I attended began the service with two newer tunes but finished the set with “Holy, Holy, Holy”–sung like a straight-ahead hymn of my youth (no superfluous bridge, no simplified chord structure), only with praise-band accompaniment instead of organ. The quality of the people’s response was overwhelming; where their collective vocal efforts had been pretty tentative on the first two, lesser-known songs (I looked around me and saw most folks simply standing in place looking bored), the place erupted when the band launched into the more familiar and older song.
(I’m not anti-new songs, quite the contrary. The specific focus of my thesis had to do with the incorporation of new songs in the Church, for which I dove into, among other Scripture passages, four of the Psalms’ invitations to “sing a new song to the Lord.” Any beef I have with this aspect of contemporary worship stems not from using new songs but rather using them without regard for numerous filters with which worship leaders should be operating when choosing material for congregational singing.)
Rather than stew in my frustration during those first two songs that were unfamiliar to me, I used the time to jot down some strategies I’ve heard others recount, and that I’ve used myself in the past, to help redeem times in the midst of congregational singing when you don’t know the songs and can’t sing along meaningfully. If you find yourself in a similar situation in the weeks and months ahead, I commend these responses to you:
Close your eyes and let the music wash over you. Scripture clearly attests to the sheer power of music, and, like Saul in the presence of David’s harp, I found myself soothed by the music, unfamiliar though it was, which helped put me in a better frame of mind.
Pray for the worship leader and the praise band members. In so many areas of life, when I channel angst in the direction of prayer, I come out ahead, emotionally speaking. It’s hard to nurse frustration with others when you’re praying for them. Pray knowing the enemy hates corporate worship, above any other thing Christians do, and that those who plan the worship are on the font lines of spiritual warfare. And pray knowing the worship team members have sacrificed much in order to serve.
Focus on the living, breathing praise band members, not their lifeless screen images. There’s way too much to explore on this topic, and I’m looking forward to reading interesting theologies of images to be written by Screeners in the years ahead, but your prayers will feel more real if you’re praying for humans you can see in the flesh, not their pixilated representations on a big screen.
Latch onto Scriptural truths when you hear them. Sure, the occasional worship song these days has some suspect theology, but even those that get dissected the most (“Reckless Love,” anyone?) have plenty of opportunities to affirm Truth. Give those sections of any given song your best energy as you contemplate the lyrics.
And when you finally CAN participate, make up for lost time and really dig in. My fellow believers a few weeks back raised the roof with “Holy, Holy, Holy” after enduring two songs for which the majority in attendance couldn’t fully participate. When you are able, always try to follow John Wesley’s advice to sing “lustily and with good cheer.”
There are other times when it’s OK not to sing in corporate worship, and I detailed them in a previous post. But I hope with a return to normal (Lord willing and Virus Creek don’t rise), worship leaders take the time to rethink some strategies for congregational singing. I hope to reflect on a recent service that did this well next week.
The Lord be with you!
Yesterday, my wife and I attended First Baptist Church in Elgin, IL, where one of my former students, Joshua Hoegh, serves as the Worship & Creative Arts Pastor. Of the numerous excellent worship leaders Judson University has trained over the past 20+ years, Joshua is one of the most aesthetically minded, season in and season out creating beautiful, meaningful sacred spaces to enhance his congregation’s worship. As is my wont, I took some notes on the ways Joshua facilitated the worship, items I shared with him after the service (#ProudProf). As I did, I realized that much of what transpired yesterday serves as a good model for the future in light of eased restrictions. Specifically, the leadership at FBC made several intentional decisions during COVID that might be worth retaining, in some capacity, after COVID. I list a few of them for your consideration.
Last week in this space I declared Andraé Crouch to be the best contemporary worship music (cwm) songwriter of all time. Today I look at five of his best songs for evidence to support my claim, songs that are found in most recent Protestant hymnals, a staggering accomplishment for an African-American composer given the surfeit of songs from writers of European and Caucasian-American descent in most hymnals. (If you didn’t have a chance to read that post, you can do so 
Without further ado, the best contemporary worship music songwriter of all time is Andraé Crouch. Beginning in the mid-60’s, Crouch, the son of a pastor, began combining the joyous sounds of traditional gospel (even then much closer to the mainstream thanks to the work of Thomas A. Dorsey and others a few decades prior) with the sophisticated Sound of Young America coming out of Detroit and the hard-driving soul coming from the south, the two primary African-American contributions to pop-rock of that era. 
It would not be an exaggeration to use MLK-like adjectives to modify any nouns related to Crouch’s efforts in segregated Protestant America, another reason his contribution to cwm is so significant. In the late 60’s and early 70’s, when the American Church was still feeling the aftershocks of civil unrest in the streets a few years before, Crouch’s Disciples were the first major ccm/contemporary gospel band to integrate racially–and sexually, with women playing equal-footing roles, not relegated to eye candy or background vocals alone–a Christian version of Sly & the Family Stone. A few years later, Disciple Sherman Andrus left Crouch’s band to join The Imperials, more popular in white churches than Crouch’s, who carried a similar mantle, a real rainbow of a group with the African-American Andrus and Hispanic bass singer Armond Morales, as well. 
driving force behind the prolific Creedence Clearwater Revival (CCR), purveyors of what is sometimes known as Swamp Rock, for its “Born on the Bayou” overtones. You’ll also hear the progressive verb “choogling” used in reference to the band’s energetic boogie grooves, heard here in such Fogerty-penned classics as 
As America continues to find its way forward, in fits and starts, following the summer of 2020’s racial unrest, it’s perhaps timely to lead off this week’s look at songwriting expertise with Bruce Hornsby’s 
We pick up with an artist some would consider a one-hit wonder, but, oh, what a hit it was. Suzanne Vega’s 
Dr. Karin Anderson Abrell is a former psychology professor, a terrific author and speaker, and my sister, so I’m stupid biased when I say she offers great things to anyone in any circumstance related to relationships. She has a complete-package social-media world encompassing numerous platforms under the general umbrella of Love & Life, including a Monday podcast. She writes, “On Love & Life we explore research methods for happy, hopeful, positive living. I delve into all the good stuff–how to have true intimacy in romantic relationships, more meaningful friendships, healthier family connections, and more fulfilling careers.” You can access all of Karin’s materials at her 
Matt Calio serves as the worship pastor at Crossview Church (EFCA) in DeKalb, IL. I’ve known of Matt all his life, as his mom and I were at Judson together in the 80’s, but I really came to know and appreciate his deep thoughtfulness regarding the Christian faith when he came to JU, and he has continued his lifelong learning via his current pursuit of a master’s at Denver Seminary. His podcast, called Bible, Books & Culture, airs every Friday. Of the podcast, Matt says, “Our tag line is ‘seeing the grace of God in our literature and lives,’ so our hope is whether we’re reading a book, talking about our lives, or engaging in the world around us, we’ll be able to point out the grace of God in it all.” You can access the podcast at 
I have worshiped under numerous worship leaders, and I’ve had the distinct privilege of helping to train many others who are truly excellent. That said, if I could be led in worship by only one person, it’d be Aaron Niequist. Raised low-Church evangelical, Aaron encountered high-Church liturgy in his late 20’s and 30’s, and it changed his life, a process eventually leading to his writing the excellent The Eternal Current, upon which his podcast is based. He writes, “Even if your faith container seems to be failing, don’t give up. You may give up on certain versions of religion, but let’s learn how to enter more deeply into the way of Christ.” Aaron’s big-tent, both/and approach to worship is refreshing, and you can access the podcast and a bunch of other resources 
The final podcast entrepreneur, Sarah Reynolds, was a student in Communication Arts, one of Judson’s most eclectic majors, so it’s no surprise that hers in the most idiosyncratic, perhaps, of all the offerings here. Her brand-new 
But if I had to choose only one author whose work I’d want to have with me on a desert island, it would be 
remembrance, in light of recent national events, provokes interesting social commentary, to be sure, given King’s penchant for non-violent responses in the face of aggressive resistance to the pursuit of justice. To whatever extent it’s true that “silence is violence” (a fascinating discussion for another day, assuming one is willing to engage in dispassionate, heuristic dialogue), newspaper op-eds and the various spheres (Twitter-, blogo-) of social media are rife with pacifists, such is the significant volume–quantity and loudness–of the commentary these days.
But the “might” to which Shurtleff alludes is what the brilliant theologian Robert Farrar Capon refers to as “left-handed power,” in his theology of Christ’s parables: Kingdom, Grace, and Judgment:
Emmaus Road Worshipers 