I HAVE the good fortune to have a job that is also a vocation: leading a Christian education charity that brings together my experience as a teacher, musician, and active Christian and church member, and that allows me to advocate the value of music in worship.
A few key convictions get me up in the morning, and give me the energy to confront yet another day of the apparently unequal struggle between the “to do” list, the contents of my inbox, and my limited human capacity to fulfil it all:
- that music has a transformative power and potential;
- that music and belief are natural partners — while I can appreciate simple spoken services as much as anyone, I value music as a tool to enhance worship, to express key tenets of our faith, to aid and enhance prayer, and to reach out, connect with, and develop, not only local communities, but each and every church community, too; and
- that music can connect me with God, in the good times and the bad.
I ALSO know that it was my own early introduction to church music (which was singing hymns at primary school, more than attending my church Sunday school) which set me on the journey to my present and my future. Maybe that’s why I still hold hymns dear (and, indeed, take great pride and care in how as an organist I play them), and why I am passionate about encouraging more young people to experience what it can feel like to do as I did, and one day — literally — find their voice.
Music can do so much to transform young people, and sustain them throughout their life journey; so it is perhaps no surprise that I want to enable every young person to have the chance to feel that music is a way to be transported beyond the here-and-now and the everyday. I worry that, if we don’t do something now, the tradition of liturgical music will gradually be extinguished, but, while we still have enough people engaged in church music to encourage others, the embers can be fanned back to fuller life.
The growth in opportunities for girl choristers is greatly to be welcomed (both my daughters benefited in this way), but where are the boys coming forward to sing, who will be the men singing lower parts of the future? Which young people are going to be the ones to come and play the organ and other instruments in worship each Sunday? How impoverished the Church would be if live church music were to disappear in all but a handful of places! Why is it that the church music of these shores is celebrated around the world, but much less valued here?
I FRET that not enough people seem to be concerned about these things: that too many churches just accept that to have an ageing group of people leading the music is OK, with no particular eye on the future beyond “It will see me out”; that music is a bolt-on to thinking about church life, not in it from the word go. It should be high up the agenda, whereas too often it is barely even on it.
It bothers me that this can translate into a culture in which new people — especially young people — and new ideas are viewed with suspicion rather than as opportunity. There is a danger of clinging to “This is what we do.” There is a danger that too few people have the confidence, or breadth of experience, to have open conversations about faith, music, and worship. There is a danger of musical tribalism that closes hearts and minds to what is “other”. We need to encourage more people to use their time and talents to lead and participate in music in their local churches.
We now find ourselves, I would suggest, in a fragile place, where there is often a divide — mirroring the Church itself, of course — between traditional and contemporary (often actually a proxy for “art” versus “pop” culture), and, in my view, a misperception that the only way forward is to leave as much of the past behind as possible.
The irony is that, in musical terms, much of what the Church regards as contemporary is miles and miles away from what young people might listen to on their phones on the way to school.
I would suggest that a better approach might be to focus on really good music, in whatever style, so that quality becomes a critical factor; and to encourage as many people as possible to engage/get involved.
This is why the work of the charity that I lead is focused on engaging and working with young people, developing music leadership, and engaging clergy and whole church communities with the endless possibilities that music offers as a tool for mission and discipleship.
WHAT, then, should the music of the Church be, looking to the future? I would suggest that it needs to be serious. I don’t mean solemn (or at least, not most of the time). I mean that it is something that requires serious attention, in our approach and our commitment. It should mirror our faith and our theology.
A professional (Christian) musician recently described the music of Bach as “3D theology”. Do you need to be, as Bach was, a believer to compose or perform sacred music? No, just as you don’t need to eat meat to be able to cook a steak. But it is better to cook food that you are able to taste, so that you can tell if it is worth eating.
MUSIC can expose new people to Christianity. As someone who regularly gets the chance to stand in front of musicians delivering their art with full force, I know how rich that joy of complete immersion in music as a living and literally breathing thing can be, not least as an expression of faith. I am, personally, never happier than when leading music with others, preparing for, and then leading, worship, and being freely able to express myself. This includes addressing the matters of faith which the music itself is expressing.
To that end, no single form or musical idiom is enough. A received and appreciated heritage, or an aesthetic of excellence, cannot on their own bring sustenance to the soul.
For there to be a really good, sustainable relationship between faith and music, it seems to me that simply making significant effort, in musical terms alone, is not enough. Unseasonal it might be, but I have a Christina Rossetti line in my head which, it seems to me, should be true of all who lead and participate in church music: “Yet what I can I give him — give my heart.”
Hugh Morris is the director of the Royal School of Church Music.