I have a confession that I need to get off my chest, dear readers.
I listen to the local Christian radio station in the car, because I like contemporary Christian music.
By now, more than likely, either you're wondering what the big deal is, or you're gasping in shock.
Whichever reaction my confession provokes in you, I hope you'll do me the honour of hearing me out, because I need to get this off my chest today. Because the thing is, I was watching a video this afternoon and a familiar contemporary worship song came on, and I actually teared up. Which tells me that this is actually, really bothering me. (And also tells me that January is cold and dark, and it has been a long week, and I'm about at my max. But I'm working on that part too...)
Because I grew up in a pretty traditional church that used an organ accompanying hymns as our primary music of worship, I actually didn't know that other forms of worship music were 'a thing' until I moved away from home to go to university.
There, at university, I encountered first the kinds of praise and worship choruses that were common in settings like summer camps. Soon thereafter, a friend introduced me to her CD collection which included a variety of so-called Christian music.
I'd never been much of a music listener before that, but pretty soon as I dove deep into exploring what it meant to be a Christian and as I came to the decision that following Jesus was the road I wanted to take, these songs became the soundtrack to my emerging faith.
By the time I was baptized and settled into a church in the city, the so-called "worship wars" were already behind the congregation and a mixture of hymns and contemporary songs were the music of worship.
So it's these songs that carry the echoes of the story of the journey that my faith has taken me on over the last twenty years. They carry the stories of the hard times, and remind me of moments when God spoke in significant ways. They hold memories of the community that nurtured me into faith, that first affirmed my gifts for ministry, and that shaped me to be the person that I am today.
Now, my community are "hymnal people."
I think that's great. There's a beauty and a richness and a depth to that type of congregational singing, and it's obviously deeply meaningful to the people I pastor. I'm learning to appreciate the songs in our hymnals, and wondering which of them will hold special meaning for me a decade or so down the road.
But it hurts me, if I'm honest, the way in which I hear people talk about other types of worship music. And, let me be clear, I've heard that go in both directions. It's not kind, and if we realized that we were talking about people we would never, ever speak about another group of people in such a public and demeaning way. It hurts me because it's been a hard week and it's the familiar voices and melodies that have been part of my community for many years already that I gravitate toward, that have the ability to recall to me God's faithfulness in the past in a way that gives me hope for the future, and I don't want to pile feeling guilty about that onto the heap.
It breaks my heart, because I wonder who else we are othering when we so casually speak about someone else's musical preferences in this way. And I wonder why we can't just accept that God is big enough to be present in so, so many different forms of worship. In every tongue. Every culture. Every nation.
By the way, the song that made me tear up? Chris Tomlin, Enough. "All of you is more than enough for me." I need to believe this is true today. And every day. But especially in this season where everything is new, and around each corner is a new challenge, and sometimes I doubt my ability to be the kind of pastor that deep in my heart I want to be.
So, please. I'm not asking you to like it too. Just understand where I'm coming from, and honour the many ways in which God's Spirit generously shows up for his beloved ones, even when they're unfamiliar.
