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Thursday, October 25, 2018

WHEN THE DOWNCAST CAN’T REACH OUR HYMNS - By Keith Getty

Found here. My comments in bold.
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I certainly respect the desire of the author to go beyond surface musical expressions, but I'm not sure he connects the needed dots here.
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WHY SONGS OF LAMENT ARE IMPORTANT TO CULTIVATING SPIRITUAL DEPTH

“Hello, how are you?”

“Great!”


We all are familiar with this everyday occurrence. In fact, odds are that the majority of our interactions throughout a normal day fall into this kind of category—into courtesy, niceties, and the like.

There is nothing wrong with this kind of conversation, especially when you are picking up food at a drive-through window or are dropping off a deposit at the bank.

But when the question is asked within real relationships, the truth is, we are not always “great.” Not in the slightest. Life is not simply a joyride through pleasant scenery.

Some moments in life are extremely dark. Dangerous. Painful. Full of unknowns and empty of any visible hope. In these moments, when we are asked this same question by someone other than a stranger, our response should go well beyond the shallow, superficial plane of nicety and into the very real plane of reality.

“My heart is broken.”

When the courage is present for these words to be honestly expressed, a different kind of conversation ensues … one that you probably won’t have in passing with a stranger at the grocery store. These words can’t be quickly passed by or easily resolved.

They require someone who deeply cares for the person whose heart is shattered to pull up a chair and sit with them in their anguish. To take time to listen. These moments move far past shallowness, bringing conversations and relationships into places of depth that often surpass anything experienced in either before.

Life is not always about rejoicing … it is often about lamenting as well. (We certainly agree with the author about the nature of life, and the expressions of lament. I'm not entirely convinced, however, that laments are necessarily godly or desirable, even when found in Scripture. 

So the author goes on to make a leap of logic from needing to lament and...)

And yet, when we come together to sing songs about the greatness of our God and His role in our everyday lives, we rarely sing songs of lament. (... engaging lament in corporate worship. According to the author. because life isn't good at the moment for some, our congregational musical worship ought to reflect that. 

But this must open the door to a discussion about the nature of congregational worship, what we should sing, and why we sing. Unfortunately, the author doesn't address this.)

We lift up lyrics and melodies that soar to the steepest heights of joy and heavenly elation … and unfortunately, our lyrics often soar so high that someone who is drowning on the ocean floor of their personal despair can’t reach them. (Does the author have some evidence this is true? Do we really know that songs of hope have no effect on the hopeless? That songs of encouragement don't encourage? That songs of exaltation don't cause the heart to rise? That songs of exaltation don't give cause to exult?

What do we find in Scripture regarding the edifying nature of musical worship:
Ep. 5:19 Speak to one another with psalms, hymns and spiritual songs. Sing and make music in your heart to the Lord...
Col. 3:16 Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom, and as you sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God.
Ja. 5:13 Is any one of you in trouble? He should pray. Is anyone happy? Let him sing songs of praise.
Ps. 28:7 The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and I am helped. My heart leaps for joy and I will give thanks to him in song.
Ps. 40:3 He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear and put their trust in the LORD.
Ps. 69:30 I will praise God’s name in song and glorify him with thanksgiving.
Ps. 100:2 Worship the LORD with gladness; come before him with joyful songs.
This is all uplifting stuff. Notice in particular James 5:13. Those with troubles are commanded to pray, not expect their low emotional state be reinforced by what the congregation sings.

Contrast that with  
Pr. 25:20 Like one who takes away a garment on a cold day, or like vinegar poured on soda, is one who sings songs to a heavy heart.
I think the writer of Proverbs is onto something. Laments pull down, and that is not worship. Laments are downers that can drag people into despair unless a remedy is given. Worship is the remedy to being downcast:
Ps. 42:5-6 Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and 6 my God.
Our songs can even render them disjointed—if not wounded—in an experience that should instead instill in them a sense of safety, honesty, and ultimately, the hope of grace to endure the depths, not just proclaim the heights. (I disagree. They are already wounded coming in. In any case, how would a church know they are wounded, and how exactly would singing a lament help? The author never explains this.

It seems to me they need hope and encouragement, not the reinforcement of their despair. Church should uplift!)

The ancients understood better than we do that singing to God and with His people need not be so lopsided on the sunny side. Scripture is replete with both the light that shines in real life, as well as the shadows that are inevitably cast between the rays. In fact, a third of the Psalms are actually songs of lament.

The modern reader must be careful to remember that these were not just poems to be read aloud—they were actual songs to be sung aloud, accompanied by instrumentation. This means that when God’s people came together to sing, they sang lyrics like, “How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?” (Psalm 13:1) (Hmmm. This psalm ends with
Ps. 13:5 But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. 6 I will sing to the LORD, for he has been good to me.
It may start as a lament, but it certainly doesn't stay that way.)

and “[God has] taken from me friend and neighbor—darkness is my closest friend” (Ps. 88:18). (One of the very rare psalms that doesn't contain a direct praise. But even this psalm acknowledges the character and greatness of God: 
Ps. 88:10-12 Do you show your wonders to the dead? Do those who are dead rise up and praise you? Selah 11 Is your love declared in the grave, your faithfulness in Destruction? 12 Are your wonders known in the place of darkness, or your righteous deeds in the land of oblivion?)
It is not the practice of most modern believers to naturally break into song with these kinds of lyrics put to melody. But one can’t deny that lyrics such as these are incredibly honest, embracing the realities of life to the point of mustering the courage to actually sing about them as one trudges through them. (We certainly agree with the author.  Many psalms are laments. But almost without exception, the psalmist turns to praise in the middle of his anguish:
Ps. 56:8-11 Record my lament; list my tears on your scroll — are they not in your record? Ps. 56:9 Then my enemies will turn back when I call for help. By this I will know that God is for me. 10 In God, whose word I praise, in the LORD, whose word I praise — 11 in God I trust; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?
Ps. 102:7-12 I lie awake; I have become like a bird alone on a roof. 8 All day long my enemies taunt me; those who rail against me use my name as a curse. 9 For I eat ashes as my food and mingle my drink with tears 10 because of your great wrath, for you have taken me up and thrown me aside. 11 My days are like the evening shadow; I wither away like grass. 12 But you, O LORD, sit enthroned for ever; your renown endures through all generations.
Regardless of how we might knee-jerkingly react to these kinds of songs today, the fact that laments are meant to be a legitimate part of our Christian faith cannot be disputed. (This is true. But we need to consider our individual place in life as compared to where the congregation is. Lament speaks to the individual's temporary situation, praise is corporate expression to the eternal God.)

And so when we leave out more than a third of the Psalms, we inadvertently leave out more than a third of our real lives, which are filled with more than just moments to rejoice, but also moments of difficulty, heaviness, and darkness. (Every moment is a moment to rejoice, in spite of how we feel.)

There was a time in our not-so-distant history when people seemed to gravitate to the Church when they were struggling with the cold realities of life in this fallen world—with the loss of a family member, difficulties with health, economic scarcity, depression, and the like. (And why might that be? Would it be because the church expresses the hope found in Jesus Christ? Would it be a ray of joy in an otherwise dreary existence? Would it be because the Gospel is Good News, not bad?

And might we ask, can the author identify some traditional hymns from the not-so-distant history that are laments? Or is the author suggesting it's a new problem?)

In the message of grace offered to real people who actually needed it in their real lives—real lives that could be fully expressed to God and His people—they encountered more than a safe, sterile expression of a completely positive life in faith. (The author makes a departure from his line of thinking to assert that uplifting worship is somehow connected to a completely positive life. He cannot justify this assertion.)

They found in God’s people an honest realism about life as it often is in the present, which reminded them afresh that they weren’t alone in those moments, but also accentuated to them the blessed hope of the life to come in the future.

Could it be that many of our churches today unknowingly contribute to disinterest (at best) and complete disengagement (at worst) among those who are suffering? (Certainly. But if it's done "unknowingly," how can the church then know? And why does the church have an obligation to feed into the negativity?)

Does the predominantly uplifting demeanor of our songs somehow present something more akin to a veneer of happiness than a deeply anchored joy that must sometimes be desperately clung to, even in the midst of pain? (Now the author wants to examine the motives of people, and wonders if they're pretending. Off topic.)

Are the fountains of which we sing deep enough to meet the thirst that the hardships of life produce in us? (That's kind of the point. The uplifting praise and worship of God's people not only blesses God, but edifies the worshiper.)

The reality is that most of our modern churches do not intentionally and regularly sing songs of lament. There are two main reasons for this.

In terms of singing, though it may sound simplistic, people like to sing songs that they like. In other words, we do not generally default to expressing a deep level of honesty and struggle in our “church” songs, even when we should because such feelings are very much dominating our lives.

Instead of seeing these emotions as a realistic part of our spiritual walks, the expression thereof which is just as equally welcomed by God as any other emotion, we somehow seem to think it less-than-sacred to be this honest with God and His people about what we are truly feeling.

We don’t like what we are feeling, so we don’t sing about what we are feeling. (I don't agree. The reason we don't sing songs of lament because we are gathered to worship him, not sing about our own problems.

And this continued talk of catering to peoples' feelings seems unspiritual.)

Secondly, very few modern songwriters are writing songs of lament. This may be at least partially due to influence of the Christian music industry. Much of this industry is slanted towards writing and promoting songs that make the listener feel better about life, usually by focusing on the positives of life. (I just don't see this. In fact, as I listen to Contemporary Christian radio I hear song after song about the problems and disappointments of life. 

The current #1 song is "You Say" by Lauren Daigle. Its lyrics begin:
I keep fighting voices in my mind that say I’m not enough
Every single lie that tells me I will never measure up
Am I more than just the sum of every high and every low?
Remind me once again just who I am, because I need to know
"Only Jesus" by Casting Crowns is is currently #11. I quote verse two:
All the kingdoms built, all the trophies won
Will crumble into dust when it's said and done
'Cause all that really matters
Did I live the truth to the ones I love?
Was my life the proof that there is only One
Whose name will last forever?
#12 is "Just Give Me Jesus." Its lyrics include:
I work so hard
Trying to open every door
Search near and far
Turning over every stone
I close my eyes
Still I find no rest
No rest
For a restless heart
Do these songs sound like they're "focusing on the positives of life."?

In fact, when these songs come on the radio I usually change the station. It all starts to sound whiny.)

Again, this is not necessarily a bad thing unto itself, but is merely a commercial reflection of the modern church’s approach that culturally utilizes spiritual songs—and sometimes their entire worship services, for that matter—for the chief purpose to somehow make people feel good. (This is a misrepresentation. The author doesn't seem to understand the concept of worship, especially as it pertains to our primary obligation to God as Christians.)

And while feeling encouraged about the lives we lead is certainly an important element of the Christian life, it is difficult to accomplish this encouragement without first meeting people where they actually are—in discouragement. (This indeed is something we are called to. We are to encourage. But the author has yet to explain how a lament encourages.)

So from a songwriting perspective, there is a lack of significant margin for these kinds of songs in our churches and in the Christian industry, though some writers are definitely trying to carve out more of these sacred spaces.

The bottom line is that songs of lament are simply more difficult to “get into” because most of our songs in the modern age are written on a positive, sometimes even superficial level. (I dispute this vehemently. While there are certainly some superficial songs out there, the great majority are rich in depth and insight.)

A lament, on the other hand, takes us down a journey that cannot remain in the shallows because it is delves deeper into those parts of life that we wish we never had to face … yet everyone single one of us do. (It might. But why does the author exclude the possibility that a lament can be just as superficial as a praise song?)

When we sing, our hearts interact with the One to whom we are singing, as well as those around us who are listening to our song and singing along with us. Singing is not merely a performance; it is an intimate form of interaction. (Agreed.)

Singing was created by God to be a divine discourse. It is an honest form of communication made holy by the expression of the very things we often consider to be unholy—that is, our doubt, anger, despair, or any other difficulty. (Again, agreed. But the author has yet to establish that laments ought to be sung congregationally.)

We often fail to realize that Christ came and walked among real people, taking on a real body, so that He could really experience and feel the weight of our difficulties, thus becoming both divinely and humanly sympathetic to them.

Christ does not desire that we feign some facade of holiness by avoiding expressions of lamentation; rather, (The author offers us a false choice, either fake it or sing a lament. We reject that this is an either/or.)

the incarnation itself reminds us that He came and lived in a human body for the express purpose of experiencing the very life that causes us to lament so that we can and will trust Him enough to express these lamentations to Him and to one another.

This level of honesty is not just an optional feature that can be added to our growth into deeper relationships with Christ; is it an absolute condition of experiencing this depth.

So since we desire such a deeper relationship, let us learn to sing songs of lament to the Lord, revealing our truest selves to the One who has revealed His truest self to us and longs that we rest in being fully known by Him.

A good place to begin is by spending time reading the Psalms of lament, as well as praying them. As we open up our hearts and minds to these new, albeit sometimes uncomfortable areas of spiritual intimacy, we will have the courage to not run from them, but rather become more fully and honestly present in them with the Lord and with one another.

This will produce the writing of more songs of lament today, as well as a willingness among the Church to sing songs of lament together with authenticity … even when our hearts our broken.

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