Praying Twice: The Music Words Congregational Song

Theology Today, Oct 2001 by Westermeyer, Paul

Praying Twice:

The Music and Words of Congregational Song By Brian Wren

Louisville, Westminster John Knox, 2000. 422 pp. $22.95.

In this book of respectful clarity and candor, Wren locates himself as a liberal Calvinist poet, pastor, theologian, and teacher; gives glimpses of congregational song between 1200 B.C.E. and 1970; discusses a variety of timely topics; and concludes with ample appendixes, a bibliography, and indexes. Here are appreciative responses from a Lutheran.

Helpful insights abound, such as the liability of high amplification, music's holistic relation to people, and why "exponents of contemporary worship" are often "strident." Wren explains the dangers of using music manipulatively, of congregations singing God's words as theirs, and of "preachiness" in hymn texts. He knows the importance of the ear and of live musical leadership, sketches a broad context for style and diversity, and engages our culture with critical capacity.

Some insights evoke questions. Wren suggests that "musical taste ... lasts a lifetime." Is that true for those who regularly listened to rock and roll in high school and lost interest later in life or sensed their musical taste migrating from "popular" to "classical"? The deeper question is how taste relates to the church's song.

The discussion of musicians' training and insecurities, turf, class, and relationships with clergy is on target, but it omits the abuse that church musicians have endured. Without that recognition, current problems cannot be addressed, and the drain of musical talent from the church will continue.

What Wren says about leading the song is helpful but raises two cautions. First, a choir is not less effective in leading than a single voice. The choir, the single voice, their relationship, and context are determinative. A deeper concern is the potentially wrong impression that anybody can be the church musician and that such a person needs no preparation, as do people who have other ministerial vocations. Wren gives the lie to that as he lays out the craft of text-writing for the poet, but no comparable need is made explicit for the church musician.

The discussion of acoustics, architecture, and seating is fine, but another caution is needed in regard to Wren's suggestion that the choir always be seen. In fact, the church has never settled on one architectural scheme. What Wren says about the choir's facing the congregation is not wrong, at least for certain theological persuasions, but he leaves the impression that all architecture ought to be so reconfigured. Some churches with choirs in the back experience vigorous hymn singing, as well as desirable acoustical and visual environments. To force everything to be time-bound by a culture's momentary restrictions can lead churches to reconfigure their spaces only to discover that they have destroyed their integrity.

As to language, The Book of Common Prayer may portray God as a ferocious Tudor monarch and turn human contrition into groveling, but it may also be received as a radical, profoundly countercultural posture that will not submit to human authority, as Wren himself senses. Congregations that use this language often appear to view it as mysterium tremendum, positively confessional, and healthy. As to gender in language, Wren keeps it before us with conviction yet without simplistic solutions.

Is Wren's discussion of congregational song as theologically indispensable actually more pastoral than theological? Theologically indispensable considerations would seem to demand locating song in the being of the Trinity or in the word of God, then of necessity finding its expression in worship. Since Wren's definition of theology is very broad, he might counter that my take on this matter is too Lutheran, my implied definition of theology too narrow and "left-brain." At that point, I applaud Wren's holistic approach to processing the faith, which includes artistic skill and creativity, but I still wonder if calling such activities "theology" is accurate or helpful. Wren acknowledges that hymns "cannot do systematic theology"; his definition of theology does not say what it is but when it is done. For the sake of clarity, not value or pride of place, might it not be wise to reserve the term theology to "systematic," logical reflection? Such a definition need not privilege (systematic) theology above "right-brain" ways of "knowing"; it may value them more.

Two broad issues emerge. First, for a Calvinist, is worship is to have "weight and majesty"? From a Lutheran perspective, do the insights and vision of Martin Luther and J. S. Bach have any place: valuing and holding together the song of the musically untrained folk and that of the trained musical group, welcoming a wide range of God's gifts in human crafting rather than only momentary parts, according to the church learning and teaching responsibilities that cannot be defined by one period or style? Wren would appear to answer these questions affirmatively for texts, which he sees as the biggest problem with "contemporary" worship. For music, he seems more willing to embrace the moment-which makes his reasoning there more ambiguous. Can one effectively affirm the textual piece without a comparable musical affirmation? Wren's report of good congregational singing in the "contemporary worship" services he has attended may be unduly influential here and needs to be read in light of his footnote that his experience may not be universal. My experience has been just the opposite.