As a child, my musical tastes revolved around contemporary rock music, which was featured on GULF 104, in Tallahassee. The radio was our version of Spotify or Pandora. I was a big fan of The Cars, Eddie Money and Huey Lewis and the News, among many others. I only listened to music when I was awake. I loved me some tunes. My favorite part of the weekend was when America's top 40, with Casey Kasem, hit the airwaves.
When I became a Christian, I continued my addiction to the hits of my day, though some conviction about certain ZZ Top and Rod Stewart lyrics began to invade my consciousness. Over time, I allowed that conviction to sway some of my listening choices, which caused me to switch radio stations pretty often. It got to be a full time job filtering out the songs that I deemed inappropriate. Eventually, I abandoned the majority of secular music and dove into the likes of Amy Grant, Petra, Carmen and Michael Card to satisfy my musical musings.
When I attended church, I struggled to enjoy the hymns we sang as much as I did my contemporary stuff, which often drew me into the presence of God. There were some hymns that I richly enjoyed, but many of them seemed out of touch with my day-to-day struggles and experiences. That has to be expected when you are singing songs that are well over 100 years old. They were contemporary in their time, but some of their imagery didn't seem to speak to my life.
To my delight, in my young adult years,Vineyard Worship, Dennis Jernigan and others began releasing volumes of modern worship music that I instantly fell in love with. These songs were loaded with scripture and inspired in me a deeper commitment to my walk with God. The same can be said of much of the current artists. Presently, I'm hooked on Zach Williams, whose song, “Rescue Story” is downright invigorating. Right behind him is Ellie Holcomb, whose soulful voice and heartfelt lyrics lift my countenance with the hope of the Gospel that she presents. There are many others that I listen to on a regular basis that have equally positive effects on my Christian walk.
I was disappointed when a pastor recently blasted contemporary worship music as having a lack of “awe and reverence” for God. His main issue was that using modern beats or colorful lighting takes away from a proper respect for God. If upbeat music sways your reverence for God, I would suggest you get to know Him better. The Bible says that Jesus fills everything, everywhere, with His presence and that He upholds the universe with the word of His power. I've seen God reach people in the lowest of places. He can make any place holy, just by showing up. Allow Him to invade your music, and He will do the same.
As for me, lighting in a worship service does not help or hinder me. I'm looking to get into His presence, not enjoy a show, so the lights can explode for all I care. I didn't come for that. Another recent complaint I heard was leveled at Hillsong music because one of their songs, “What a Beautiful Name,” says that God “did not want Heaven without us.” The outcry was based in the fact that those words are not in the Bible. News flash, neither are the words, “Just give me a cabin in Glory,” but it's in the hymnal. I would much rather sing about God loving me so much that He doesn't want to be without me than busting a rhyme about dumpster diving in Heaven. But, we all have our preferences.
Preferences should not be dragged into the middle of a theological debate that really becomes much ado about nothing. Fussing about trivial matters makes our faith look small to the lost, sometimes causing them to miss the point of our message. Worship is a matter of what God does in our hearts as we set our affections on Him. It is not about the packaging of the music. If you prefer the Gaither boys and I choose the Newsboys, it's all good. The worship and adoration all belong to God, and whatever style He chooses to inhabit is fine with me. I'm looking for Him, and I can find Him equally as well in four stanzas or a catchy chorus, so let's continue to love God and love others and not lose sight of what matters.