CCM

I never had much school spirit at Wheaton. I can count on my thumb the number of athletic events I attended. I never wore orange and blue on spirit days. I never hung with the class or volunteered for things that are traditionally Wheaton. In fact, I kind of looked down on/pitied people who love Wheaton in the rah-rah shishkamba kind of way. The types who come back to every single reunion and love the Festival of Faith and actually read the alumni magazine cover to cover.

I was surprised at the desire that bubbled up inside of me after graduation to retain my connection to the cheesier aspects of Wheaton. Suddenly, that SAGA cup I’d been meaning to return for two years was a cherished treasure. I’ll take it back next school year after I’m well-adjusted to real life, after I don’t need it anymore, I told myself, as if my SAGA cup were my trusty security blanket. I would see a car driving in front of me with a Wheaton parking sticker and instead of the usual frustration that this Wheaton employee is driving a Lexus and acting like a worldly jerk behind the wheel, I would feel pride and joy. There’s a fellow Wheatie, I would think in a comforting tone. They understand me. The worst part, though, is when I felt happy and peaceful every time I turned the radio to 88.1. When I was at Wheaton, I very rarely listened to WETN. In fact, most of my interactions with WETN occurred because of chapel. In spite of my condescension toward a lot of Wheaton staples, I always loved chapel. So when I skipped, I watched it or listened to it on WETN. Other than that, though, I thought the radio station was the cheesiest thing this side of the planet. And how the beginning of that David Crowder song plays every time they announce the weather??? What’s up with that?

Anyway, who would have thought that listening to WETN after graduation would make me feel so connected, so remembered? For about two weeks after graduation, I filled most of the time I spent driving and hanging around the apartment with the radio waves of all the CCM your money can buy (except it was free, since it was radio). Then, one Sunday morning I went to church, and I realized that our worship team is a CCM band. There was no difference between listening to the radio for half an hour and sitting in my church on Sunday morning. The band would play the songs, exactly as written (including David Crowder’s “Here we go!” on “There is No One Like You”). Electric guitar solos in place, drums sounding good, backup vocalists looking polished and shined, and there’s our worship of the LORD. Don’t like it? What’s wrong with you? Oh, you wanted to feel like you weren’t just sitting in your car listening to the radio? What on earth for?

I talked this over a bit with my mentor. He thinks that it’s not the church worship bands that have things so wrong. It’s more the fault of Christian radio/entertainment people who have this fetish with turning worship into background car music rather than time that is truly devoted to dwelling in the LORD’s presence and marveling at His character. Now, I realize that sounds very American of me and not holistic enough. I can experience the LORD’s presence in my car, and I can praise Him any time. And it can be good and real. But why the heck do we come to church? I mean, why not just live our lives like everyone else, only with the fruit of the Spirit and hope in Jesus? What’s the point of meeting together, and why does Scripture say not to forsake it?

I have a couple of ideas. One, it’s too easy for lonely sheep to fall away. Here’s the thing…I (and probably most of us) don’t really like people. Sure, we tolerate them, and even enjoy them on occasion. But do most of us really like that agonizing process of building intense, close community with people? Dealing with the tensions, the conflicts, the hurt, the bitterness, the wounds, the brokenness? If we love brokenness and conflict, that’s probably not the healthiest state of mind, right? So, of course, we hate dealing with other broken people, knowing full well that we ourselves are broken too. It’s hard. It hurts. And even if it’s worth it in the end, it’s not something we always willingly give ourselves to. So if left on our own, without that structured expectation to be in community together, are we going to do it consistently? Doubtful.

Two, (and this is where CCM worship really gets to me) the point of worship in community should be and should look different than the point of worship as individuals. When I am alone in my bedroom praising God or alone in my car worshiping the LORD, it is different than when I am in a room with one hundred other people praising God or in a room with one other person worshiping the LORD. If I miss that, I am simply being self-centered and immature. Or perhaps a victim of my culture. That Sunday morning in church, when I realized that radio and church were becoming identical experiences, I was frustrated because it should feel different. A band playing in a studio should feel different than a hundred people who should know each other and be intimate enough to interact with one another as they worship. We are called together to worship so that we can encourage one antoehr, exhort, etc. It’s a two-way street (or however many ways you have represented, actually). It’s not just about a few famous guys spitting out lines that thousands can mimic (and not even mimic back to them, because it’s not as if they come to every church every Sunday). There is no interaction with one another, and I would even go so far as to say that there is limited interaction between us and God when we do communal worship that way. Can I just say, I am tired of singing to God about flowers and mountains and running water? Sometimes I want to tell Him that my heart is heavy and I want to know what it is to trust Him with my future, with the details, with money, with love. Most of the CCM songs don’t really allow for that kind of depth, though, so if I sing with the congregation, I sing about nature. Nature’s fun to sing about. It usually comes with pretty melodies and driving guitar licks.

Sometimes at church, I get so fed up, I sit down and start praying and singing on my own. But even that’s not a great substitute, because then I think, Why am I not just doing this at home? What’s the point of being here? And truthfully, if it weren’t for the amazing, intellectually and spiritually stimulating sermons my pastor gives, I wouldn’t go to church. But now I have another reason to keep going…this has got to get better. We’ve got to learn how to be vulnerable with each other in community. Otherwise, church is pretty much a farce. We might as well stay home and order sermons on CD. Or better yet, our pastor could join up with WETN, preach on Sunday mornings over the radio, and then be followed by some great worship hits. No, no, no, I will not be satisfied with that. So I’m working on infiltrating the system at my church. I’m slowly getting to know the worship leader, joining the choir, and getting in with the young adult ministry. Somehow, someway, there must be a weak spot in this church that I can find and press just hard enough to get some interaction flowing. Being broken makes it a lot harder than it should be…good thing the LORD is pretty generous with redemption and grace.

I no longer feel the need to fill my life with connection to Wheaton through WETN. I got sick enough of CCM to be cured of my Wheaton homesickness. (I still drink from my SAGA cup regularly, though.) And, as I thought about how unoriginal and impersonal Christianity, and more specifically, corporate worship music is becoming, I came up with a plan. What if, instead of complaining about CCM, we started writing our own worship music? My Biblical Theology of Worship class really inspired this plan. We spent most of the class criticizing the ridiculous way church music has become commercialized and dumbed down, but then, at the very end of the class, people who had written their own worship songs got to share them. Not all of them were amazing, but most of them were pretty darn good. And the best part about some of the songs was, they were written by people I knew and loved. I had heard those friends practicing and hammering out the details of their songs, agonizing over the lyrics, going through the process of what they wanted to proclaim about the LORD. I knew their lives and hearts. I knew what the LORD had done in them to bring them to a place where they could sing praises to Him. How beautiful would it be if someone from my church’s worship team shared a song they had written? If someone in the congregation shared a poem? If the electric guitar player played something he had written and shared why it meant something to him? I guess that would be vulnerable, intimate. Scary. But man, it would be fun, and I think it might bring some life into our church community that’s been lacking. So…on to the continuation of infiltrating the system…we’ll see what happens.

P.S. If you complain about CCM (this means you too, Angel), shut up and write a song. If you can’t write music, spend your time learning instead of complaining. Or convince someone else to write a song. Together, we can change the face of church music. I’m convinced. With our powers combined…