Found here. My comments in bold.
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What we have here is someone elevating his personal opinion to the level of Bible doctrine. He doesn't like this rendition of O Holy Night, so apparently he is free to mock and criticize the singer in a most unseemly manner.
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Relevant online recently shared Hillsong’s new version of O Holy Night, claiming it will “give you chills.”
From the post:
“Hillsong Worship has released a stirring version of the Christmas classic, “O Holy Night”. The fully orchestrated take on the holiday staple not only features a full choir, but also the powerful lead vocals of Taya Smith.”I’m really not sure what Relevant was seeing and hearing here. As with practically everything Hillsong does, it’s high on production value and low on actual substance. (We will soon find that the author's complaints are ironically without substance.)
Hillsong has long turned the commercial Christmas season into a commercially profitable one for them with wild spectacles, turning beautiful carols into money-making pop songs. (Apparently making money is a sin. And apparently, people like these things enough to part ways with their money. Alas, their tastes are sub par compared to the author's. We will find he has a degree in applied voice, so he knows better what we should like. He's an expert.)
Here’s yet another example in O Holy Night, And I find it to be in particularly poor taste. (Violating the author's taste is akin to taking the Lord's name in vain. He is the arbitrator of what's good and bad, and is happy to relegate people to the outer darkness if he doesn't like them.)
Here it is if you’d like to watch it:
Link.
First we have lead vocalist Taya Smith. Fans and closet observers alike will know her electronically-produced vocals from one of Hillsong’s top jesusy money-makers, Oceans.
When this one starts, Taya is standing center stage [Churches don’t have “stages,” remember?]. (Hrmph. I have been in dozens of churches, and every single one of them has an elevated platform [i.e., a stage].)
The theatrical lights come up. The spotlight is on her and only her. (The pastor takes center stage, and all eyes are upon him. The congregation is expectant, notebooks ready, waiting for the pastor to begin sharing his wisdom.
Apparently this doesn't offend the author, but a center stage performance of a song does. The distinction is mystifying.)
She’s wearing a gown that is, frankly, reptilian. (That's just petty. Can you imagine? He doesn't like her dress. It's amazing to me that this fellow thinks he is perfectly justified to speak ill of someone, even to the point of their clothing. What a jerk.)
Turn off the sound, forget the words she’s singing for a moment, and what’s the impression one gets? This is all about Taya. It’s not about a dear Savior, a law of love, a gospel of peace, or breaking chains. (Continuing in his vain pursuit of a point, the author now suggests that a soloist singing a solo with the camera trained on the soloist is unholy.
Let's take a look at this video of John MacArthur. Turn off the sound. The camera is focused on him. He's standing on a [gasp!] stage. There's shots of the congregation listening in rapt attention. It's all about John!
I don't like his suit, he looks like an insurance salesman. And there's a point in the video when he gestures with his hands. Oh, the sin! The debauchery! How can I bear it?)
Even if we couldn’t see the video, the audio alone would be tasteless enough. Instead of singing with the dignity, beauty, and artistry such subject matter deserves, she is singing in a style that is ad-libbed, sliding around between the notes with spread, non-committal vowels, a tragically affected tone, and a pinched timbre.
For example, check out the 4:13 mark. The strings [Maybe they thing the strings make their rendition more “traditional.” I’m afraid they don’t.] sing out over the relentless, artless crashes of the trap set. And there’s Taya. She’s got her arms outstretched. Perhaps this is choreographed as a bowing gesture. But if that’s the case, where is she bowing? Toward the congregation audience. This is a Freudian slip if I’ve ever seen one. (The bottom line: It's all about his tastes and his sensibilities. He doesn't like her singing style. He doesn't like her dress. He doesn't like the venue. He doesn't like the strings. He doesn't like the drummer. And he really, really, really doesn't like Hillsongs.)
In reality, though, she’s not bowing, not really. She’s got her arms outstretched, yes, but she’s making an example of herself. Regardless of intent, this gesture proudly screams “Look at me!”
When her vocals reenter, Taya begins sliding around while contorting her body and face, straining for notes. This is nothing short of histrionic. (Irony alert.)
By 4:35, she appears to be approaching an orgasm or a bowel movement. (Now the author crosses the line. Being an expert in women's faces at the moment of orgasm, he imputes to this woman the most vile thought a man can express toward a woman, especially a woman he doesn't know.)
Seriously. I have a degree in applied voice, but I have no other explanation for this face or the contortions. (Whaaa? He has no other explanation? One sentence from now he provides one.)
It is of no aid to the vocal process. It is a manner of performance that is borne out of a mainstream popular music movement that feigns passion to sell their product. While we can debate its appropriateness in that arena, it is sensual behavior unfit for any supposedly sacred space or endeavor.
Again, I’m not a prude. (No, he's a boor. In fact, he should be a bit more prudish and refrain from discussing women's orgasms.)
It just isn’t the venue, people.
The arrangement itself doesn’t add any dignity to the piece, either. It’s turned a beautiful song into yet another pseudo-religious power ballad, something we’ve been fed enough of in recent years. If you’re going to turn Christmas into a histrionic glam fest, at least give us something new.
Then there is this huge sea of people looking on in the audience, bodies swaying and arms waving as they might do in worship of any mainstream pop superstar. (Worst of all, the audience, lacking the author's finely-honed sensibilities, is actually enjoying the song and using it as a vehicle to worship God. Horrifying!)
Don’t be fooled. This isn’t about Jesus. Frankly, it never is with Hillsong. It’s about them building their own empire. If you get goosebumps, chills, or whatever, I guess that’s fine, but don’t pretend it has anything to do with with the Savior of the world, the renewal of the cosmos, or a broken curse.
It’s about Hillsong and their empire.
And once again, shows us how to take a thing of beauty, and turn it into a big, extravagant joke. (Having described this woman and this church in the most vile of ways, the author puts the cherry on top, unaware of his own ironies.
We also note that the author has offered no encouragement, no correction, no edification, and not a single Scripture or scriptural principle. It is a screed, nothing more. It's what the political Left does to conservatives: Invective, name-calling, personal attacks, and hate.
I hope this guy isn't a pastor.)
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