What are two things that don't seem to go together? Being interested in music, playing the guitar, joining a band, gigging out and Church just seems like an odd pairing.
I'll try starting here: There is a
South Park episode, "Faith Plus One", in which Cartman, Butters, and Token form a Christian pop band; along the way there is a joke about the song lyrics Cartman is using, which are actually other pop songs with the word "Jesus" in place of other terms of endearment, when a record executive says something about not being able to tell whether Cartman
loves Jesus or is
in love with Jesus; and while I cannot promise you for certain what Parker and Stone meant, one song stands out, exemplary above all others,
"Calling on You"↱, by Stryper.
Meanwhile, I would also note that as many young Christian musicians tried their hands through the Eighties and Nineties, an older generation of rocker was falling away from the road and landing in the loving arms of Christ. There was a drummer at a church in Salem, Oregon, when I lived there twenty-some years ago; and before that a prominent Christianist anti-rock critic of my time was a former ... rock DJ, I think ... it isn't mentioned in his Focus on the Family bio ... spent some time in the late Eighties and early Nineties campaigning against rock shows, but, yeah, a lot of these guys end up gigging in churches. That phenomenon has had decades to root and grow.
And even more, there is in the range of what we would describe as black churches in America a powerful gospel and soul tradition that runs straight through funk, and in that history of those churches electric guitars have turned up very nearly since electric guitars have existed. And in the age of American televangelism, all the more so.
Jabari Johnson↱, for instance.
That's actually a pretty powerful moment for a lot of those people. Comparatively, there are occasionally problems with
trying too hard↱ in church.
Mostly, it comes down to whatever anyone does with it. Like, whatever I might figure out to say about that synth drummer apparently out of the Seattle, the
breakdancing televangelists↱ ... I mean ... o! dear God!
There is a dumb old joke for Jesuit Novices explaining that
you give a short sermon, six minutes, unto God; if you take longer, the next six minutes are for yourself, and you really ought to know better; and, well, the next six ....
It comes down to whatever anyone does with it. If Jabari Johnson and that crew, for instance, can get the congregation up and singing hosannas long enough, they verge toward transcendent faith, and, really, that would be a better evangelical outcome in my society than the current iteration. No, really, keep them repeating that chorus for a half hour. Meanwhile, the breakdancing televangelists is an historical marker; I can't quite describe everything that comes together in that one, but it's an example so much wrong about televangelism and large-scale popular ministry.
And as much as we might react to those problems, it's also true we can
find in church music↱ some of those things we don't usually understand when criticizing religious faith from outside. Filed under, so what if it's church, is the fact that I recognize the other components of the joy and communal solidarity these people are experiencing together.
The instrument of God's instrument is subject to frail and mortal hand. I think the Alpha and Omega can afford to endure some rockin' racket from time to time, and as I understand it, He knows what is in one's heart, so if the breakdancing itself is necessarily forgivable according to John 3.16, it's still possible they might need to answer for their motives, but that's between them and God.
And we all know the hosannas count for something, regardless of whether or not there is a God to wallow in them; it's all in what anyone does with them.
