The minister who soars in circles high above his congregation does not feed his people. In the same way the musician who renders music that the congregation cannot understand is speaking in an unknown tongue and is not edifying the congregation. If the music is such that at the close of it the unlearned cannot say Amen, it has not met a basic qualification laid down by the apostle Paul.
When Jesus came to this earth He did not go back several centuries and learn classical Hebrew, the literary language of the Old Testament, and say that this alone was the language in which God's word was to be communicated. He spoke in Aramaic, the common language of the people of His day.
Though Jesus could have spoken incomprehensible philosophies, He told instead simple stories about fish nets and candlesticks and adolescent boys, and the common people heard Him gladly. Can any minister have a higher ambition than to be like Jesus? Can any musician?
The musicians who take part in a religious service are really assistant ministers. Whereas the minister talks as he prays to God or preaches to the people or bears his testimony, the musician sings or plays his prayer and praise to God and his exhortations and testimonies to the people. Just as it is important that the minister speaks clearly and simply, so it is important that the musician sings and plays clearly and simply.
How we love the minister who tells good stories now and then! How we love the musician who plays a real melody now and then! Melodies are the stories in music.
5. If the music is to be understood and enjoyed by all the members of a congregation, then it follows that church music must be subject to a considerable degree of variation for the simple reason that people vary so much.
God made both the stars and the atoms, both the hummingbirds and the alligators. Though all these vary a great deal, it is evident from Revelation 5:13 that all God's creatures and creations praise Him and add glory to His name. There is probably no one instrument and no one style of music —neither Gregorian nor Romantic, neither Bach nor Rhodeheaver, neither chorale nor gospel song—that ought to be considered exclusively suitable to the glory of God.
In the United States we prefer organs and organ music for our church services, but everyone knows that in many parts of Central America the people prefer to use guitars and marimbas. Can anyone say that God does not accept these lesser instruments, when we have more baptisms in a year's time in Central America than in any other place in the world?
Since people are so different, and since God can be glorified in different ways, wonder if we could all come to some sort of agreement that it would be acceptable to use different kinds of music in our church services?
When a highly trained musician says that only complicated music can be played in church, the less-trained members of the congregation think the highly trained ones are being selfish. But put the shoe on the other foot. When the less-trained members of the congregation say that the highly trained musicians may never play their kind of music, isn't this being rather selfish too? Aren't we all souls for whom Christ died? Brothers and sisters in God's great family? Since God can be glorified in so many different ways, should we not all be willing—happily and generously willing—to take into account one another's differences?
This brings us to point No. 6, perhaps the most important point of all: Church music should be geared to the one great purpose of the church—the salvation of souls. In I Corinthians 9:22 Paul says, "I am made all things to all men, that I might by all means save some."
The salvation of souls! That was the great purpose of Christ's descent to this earth. That was the great purpose of Paul's missionary journeys. And should not that be the purpose of all our religious music?
If sermons ought to be spiritual and have sap and life in them, musical selections also ought to be spiritual and have sap and life in them.
We have been talking about singers bringing a message from "people to people," but this cannot be ordinary conversation. Musicians must sing and play distinctly about God. Their business, like that of the minister, is the salvation of souls.
Ordinary music will not do. Merely classical music will not do either. (Many selections that are listed as "Music for Meditation" are really backgrounds for daydreaming.) On the other hand, merely catchy melodies will not do. Only music that helps to save souls will do. "That by all means I might save some," as Paul says.
It is one of the facts of our contemporary American society that while cheap jazz, rock 'n' roll, and twist records are broadcast almost endlessly by nearly every AM station in the nation, it is also true that there is going on a great revival of culture in our cities and of liturgy in our Protestant churches. Cultural centers are springing up all over the country. The August 10, 1962, issue of Time said that "to date, close to $375 million is involved in building projects scheduled to house the arts in 70 cities."
Big companies such as Procter and Gamble and IBM are establishing cultural centers because they know that their employees will be happier if they have concert halls and art galleries to go to.
Now an Adventist may write off the concert-goers as snobs, the members of liturgical churches as daughters of Babylon, and the rock 'n' rollers as rank heathen, but do we not have a responsibility for all the souls for whom Christ died?
You students one day soon will be sitting on committees that help determine our church music. Are you thinking in terms of music that will "by all means save some"? Does it not behoove our music majors to get used to the idea that God may be able, through them, to use the simpler types of music to win the less cultured people? I was once asked to conduct a series of song services in a reform school. The young boys enthusiastically requested "Do Lord." I refused because I didn't think "Do Lord" was good music. I promptly lost all my influence in that place. What a Pharisee!
On the other hand, doesn't it behoove the nonmusic majors to get acquainted with the higher types of music because appreciation for this type of music may be used of God to win the more cultured strata of society?
Though you may not personally care for it, your ability to talk intelligently about the productions of Beethoven, Mozart, Debussy, and Saint-Saens may one day impress some cultured but lost soul with the intellectual respectability of the Advent message. Your willingness to have some of the more cultural types of music played in your local church may be the turning point that persuades a liturgically-minded Lutheran to be baptized into the remnant church before it is too late.
7. And now for the last point: Our church music ought to be our best. Jesus told us to love the Lord our God with all our hearts and with all our minds (Matt. 22:37). Paul says that we should "do all to the glory of God" (1 Cor. 10:31). Our music should never be slipshod or cheap. Should we not stretch our minds a little at every meeting we attend in order to make our worship even more worthy of the great God we serve? Think how beautiful the music of the angels must be! How poor even our best music must seem in comparison! Ellen G. White, who heard the angels sing, commented sadly on the contrast. Do we all do our best, even when sitting in the congregation during a song service?
We don't want our ministers to talk over our heads, but neither do we want them to talk down around our knees. We don't want them to shout and yell or to tell disorganized stories about trifles. We want them to bring carefully organized sermons that have a beginning, a middle, and an end, and which communicate great truths to us in simple language.
Then should we not expect the same from our musicians? Shouldn't we ask them to bring us good music, music that is carefully written and well organized, music that is neither a puzzle in celestial geometry nor just a happy noise about nothing?
We are growing up. When we were children we sang "The B-I-B-L-E, yes, that's the book for me" now we sing "Faith of Our Fathers." Years ago, when we sang about being soul winners among the boys and girls on our street, we used "Fishers of Men" now we sing "Lead on, 0 King Eternal." We're growing up. Shall we suddenly stop growing now, or shall we continue to grow until we are able to serve God and praise Him in the best possible way we can?
It is true that Jesus came down to our level, but He did not come down to leave us here. He came down so He could lift us up. He told stories so simply that people caught their melodies at once. The stories were about truth so profound that Christians have been trying to plumb their meaning ever since. Church music should have something to it. It should edify us and lift us up.
But good music does not have to be complicated. There is great genius manifested in simplicity.
Some of you were here about three years ago when we had a candle-lighting service at the beginning of the school year. As we each held our little candle Carolyn Rhodes, I think it was, sang, "This Little Light of Mine," a cradle-roll song, up there in the balcony. It didn't seem out of place at all. In fact, almost everyone was deeply touched—because she sang it so beautifully.
Jesus never told us to be childish; but He did tell us that if, while serving God with all our hearts and all our minds, we would be childlike—like a little child—we would enter into the kingdom of heaven.