Greater attention to cultural expression Perhaps the most significant hymnological change in the past generation has been the willingness to employ for the song of the church secular literary styles and modern techniques of music composition and music production. While liturgical scholars and ecclesiastical officials debated the various dynamics of liturgical inculturation, Christian songwriters went ahead with nonstrophic and non-rhyming texts, and tunesmiths experimented with a variety of new sounds. The similarity of this new Christian music to the popular music of radio and CD has made it especially inviting to young and middle-aged Christians who clamor for its inclusion on Sunday morning or Wednesday night. The result is that every worship planner must face concretely and specifically the relationship between worship and culture in order to determine which Christian music–text and musical setting–is appropriate for multigenerational corporate worship.
Christian rap is just starting to have a wide appeal, but the chorus has engaged congregations across ecclesiastical lines, and services of worship have had to adjust to accommodate it. The chorus, in the late twentieth century, can be likened to a spiritual sound-bite or the jingle of a commercial: it is short, to the point, and memorable. The chorus is, of course, not a new musical form. Its oldest ancestor may be the antiphon that separated from the psalm or canticle it was intended to serve, and then developed, sometimes with embellishments, into an autonomous musical piece. A more recent ancestor is the independent chorus popular at the camp meeting or revival, which occasionally attached to a preexisting hymn text. Many times the chorus, now a refrain, had only a tangential association with the text, as did the Isaac Watts text “Come, We that Love the Lord” with the refrain “We’re Marching to Zion.” There generally is, however, a marked difference between nineteenth-century and twentieth-century choruses, though both are intended to offer praise. While each accentuates the personal experience of faith, the nineteenth-century chorus seems more firmly centered in the primary dogmatic themes of the Christian faith than its twentieth-century counterpart. If a church’s song is a means of instilling its faith and teachings as well as offering praise, a closer examination may need to be made of the theological content of song texts.
Cultural pluralism Contemporary hymnody has also helped to impress on liturgists the fact that the body of Christ is culturally plural. Liturgical practice has always shown an awareness of the cultural diversity of the Christian community, local and universal, if only in the sanctoral calendar or the intercessions. But in recent decades this multiculturalism has been more overtly expressed in worship than in previous generations, and much of it has been the result of the publication in hymn books and hymn collections of texts in modern languages other than English, accompanied by tunes from an array of musical cultures–indigenous, imported and foreign. Though a congregation may never sing “Amazing Grace” in Choctaw or master the slurred pitches of music from India, the presence in their hymn or song book of texts and tunes representing the ethnic and racial diversity of North America and the world speaks to the global character of the universal Church. Unfortunately this reality may be lost upon those congregations that resort to the overhead projection of texts.
Attitudes of respect and care should govern the borrowing of hymnic treasures from other cultures, lest celebration of diversity become exploitation. Honesty must be used in identifying the sources– no “American folk tune” for African American spirituals, as was done in the early part of this century. While ethnographic exactitude is neither possible nor desirable, an effort should be made to respect the original musical form; the ethnic or racial musicological wrinkles should not be ironed out in favor of a more generic western style–even if means the music is difficult.
Another caution: while cultural pluralism is worthy of liturgical recognition, it must never obstruct expression of Christian unity. Ironically, the Church’s use of Latin in liturgy and hymns may have been the best witness to such unity.
Ecumenical interchange Hymnody has been an agent of Christian unity insofar as hymns are shared across ecclesiastical lines. This is not a new practice; the hymns of Isaac Watts, for example, were widely used by different English Nonconformist groups and Anglican societies during the eighteenth century. But at the end of this century such sharing is normative practice, as is evident when one scans the author index at the back of any recently published hymnal or songbook. Roman Catholics sing British Methodist Fred Pratt Green; Baptists sing Episcopalian Carl Daw; Moravians sing Presbyterian Hal Hopson. Specifically ecumenical hymn collections are also being produced, some of them for ecumenical communities like Taizé and Iona, and samples from these works are showing up in church hymnals. Such hymnic exchange may have also provided an impetus or at least permission for the borrowing of other liturgical resources. Again, this is not a new practice, but today it is common, particularly for Protestant worship leaders, to draw from the breadth of Christian tradition and experience and not be limited to their own particular denominational heritage. The 1992 United Methodist Book of Worship makes this point quite clearly by its inclusion, for example, of a prayer by Mother Teresa.
Such interchange may encourage Christian unity, though the question must be raised whether a single hymn will be understood in the same way in two different dogmatic contexts–say Ruth Duck’s baptismal hymn “Wash, O God, Our Sons and Daughters” sung in a Disciples of Christ service and in a Lutheran Church, Missouri Synod congregation. A more difficult question is whether hymn writers, aware that a good text may transcend their own denominational allegiance, should write for a general Christian audience and avoid the theological nuancing of ecclesiastical particularity. The danger is that such generic hymnody may in the end help produce “brand-X” Christians whose faith, far from being that confessed by the one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church, is so bland that it will not sustain them in times of crisis.
Changes in the use of scripture In a day when Christians are becoming more biblically illiterate, scripture songs have arisen that may help to impress upon their minds and hearts a limited number of isolated proof-texts that happen to express the theological bent of their writers. Certainly, retelling a single scriptural pericope in its entirety is a traditional procedure that should be encouraged. But hymn writers of this past generation have apparently lost the ability to weave together the disparate strands of scripture that earlier hymn writers were able to put together in a multi-hued tapestry which matched the diversity and unity of the biblical canon. It would be hard to discern the Church’s comprehensive “rule of faith” on the basis of the literary output of most contemporary hymn writers.
The scripture song’s presentation of a biblical text has also contributed to the increased production of songs and hymns which expect the singer to assume the voice of God. Admittedly, psalm singing or recitation has always required the congregation to present the words of the Almighty, but liturgically it was clear that the people were reiterating the claims of scripture. With contemporary scripture song and even hymns it is not so obvious, especially if a paraphrased scripture text is joined to free composition. Has the day at last arrived when all the Lord’s people have become prophets (Numbers 11:29) or is it that Narcissus and Feuerbach have finally won out? The purpose of worship is to glorify God and sanctify humanity– it is not the self-glorification of humanity and the instruction of God.
New emphases in hymnological themes Numerous hymns produced in the last generation have addressed social themes, thereby perpetuating an emphasis begun at the beginning of this century with the writing of the social gospel hymn and continued in the 1960s by the production of hymns on peace, justice, liberation and environmental stewardship. The more recent hymns, like their older counterparts, have broadened liturgical sensitivity to social issues, particularly in the areas of gender, language and victimization, and reinforced the concerns uplifted in intercessory prayer. But more than social awareness is articulated in many of these hymns which continue the human positivism rampant throughout the twentieth century. Notions of sin, original or actual, are downplayed in favor of corporate accountability and a commitment to worry for others. For congregations that have already dropped the confession of sin lest it offend newcomers, works of charity and mercy are thereby classified as humanitarian efforts, and the atonement is regarded as little more than a past, violent event.
The ephemerality of contemporary hymnody North American economies of the late twentieth century thrive on a lack of permanence by expecting goods and services to have limited or localized usage. The same may be said about much of the production of hymns and sacred songs in recent years as well. True, no hymn writer should ever expect his or her text or tune to weather the tempests of time; only a handful of hymns from any time period have managed to be passed on to subsequent generations. But recent years have seen a vast increase in the numbers of hymns published in part a result of the ease of publication through desktop and other technology. Some published hymns apparently have been designed for short-term use, sometimes for a particular community or congregation, other times for a single service–in the latter case, capitalizing on the concept now popular in some circles that genuine liturgical performance can only be defined by a particular group of people, meeting at a particular place at a particular time. Disposable music written to accompany a disposable liturgy–with both oftentimes lacking in literary and theological quality. While such practices take inculturation quite seriously, they do raise both ecclesiastical and catechetical questions.
Conclusion Changes in North American hymn ody have thus been, in part, a response to the wider reformations in the theology and practice of Christian worship taking place during the last generation. And the words and rhythms introduced by hymn writers and composers have, reciprocally, helped to shape how Christians now worship. Such give and take, ebb and flow, is necessary to keep the Church, its worship and its song, vital and healthy. There are challenges ahead as we move into the twenty-first century–challenges which are before us because of the changes during the past twenty-five years–and I now mention two.
The first challenge I’ve already alluded to. Congregational singing is quickly becoming a dying art, as music programs disappear from public schools and as many relegate choral singing to “the professionals.” If the singing of an assembly is essential for the maintenance of its spiritual health, it is imperative that the text writers and composers of the next generation continue to produce hymns and songs accessible to untrained singers, and that worship planners use those new songs in corporate worship for singing by the congregation.
The second challenge: we are now confronted with a “worship war” between what popularly is identified as “traditional” or “liturgical” worship and “contemporary” and “evangelical” worship, though as I’ve already suggested, such designations are inaccurate. The difference in these two types is not merely in performance, as some persons would aver, but also–and perhaps more importantly– in the theological conception of worship’s purpose and meaning. Already a third type is developing as a compromise, if such is possible, which is identified as a “blended” form. This blending is not so much in the conceptualization of worship itself, but in the structure and content of worship’s design. For congregations, this “worship war” has been and may be divisive. For hymn authors, composers and their publishers, this may be an opportunity. My hope is that the hymnody of the next generation will not sacrifice its historic role as a sung confession of faith. By substantially articulating the faith of our fathers and mothers, the new song of the coming century may contribute to liturgical healing and reconciliation between the two “warring” camps, but more importantly, it may proclaim afresh the goodness of the One in whose name we worship and sing.