Look at Me, Believing

Two days ago, I posted the lyrics to an anthem-ish praise chorus that does me a world of good when I sing it. Modern worship music has become the subject of so many angry rants that it's almost a wonder anybody ventures into the arena with new songs. So I like to give credit where credit is due.

That isn't to say that there aren't problems with a lot of songs today, though. Here's something I've noticed, and the best way to talk about it is probably just to start with some of the lyrics in which it appears.

I heard a story just the other day

About a man who gave His life away for me

Complicated yet it seems so clear

If I open up my heart You'll be so near to me

I believe in You

I believe in You

I believe in You

I believe Your Word has set me free

With all that I am I will live my life for You

I believe

I read a story just the other day

About the way You healed a blind man, made him see

Here I stand I'm crying out to You

All I need is faith to see a miracle in me

I believe in You

I believe in You

That was I Believe by Henry Seeley, and it has gotten a fair amount of "air time" in my congregation and, no doubt, in thousands of others. Not bad, in some ways: it never actually gives the name of Jesus, but it really cannot be talking about anyone else, and it alludes to His work on the Cross. And here the composer, and thus the congregation, asks for more faith, which is a pretty on-target request.

In the singing of it, though, something else comes out. And I'm not talking about the cute new trend in pop-Christian hymnody of cramming too many syllables into too few beats. You know, like in the first stanza of this song where "If I open up my heart" is to be sung in the same space allotted to "About a man" two lines previous. (Try it, it's nearly impossible)

No, instead do a pronoun count. And while you're at it, imagine a congregation repeating, "I beliiiiiiiiiiiiiieve in You [rest, rest], I beliiiiiiiiiiiieve in You [rest, rest], I beliiiiiiiiiiiieve ..." several times over. It's a bit monotonous, for sure, like the joke where the congregation gets tired of repeating "I could sing of Your love forever," and substitutes, "We've been singing this song forever." But where's the emphasis? Is it not on the believer, believing? After all, what is the purpose of saying "I believe, I believe," again and again? And then there's the way the song begins: not, "This Man gave His life for me" -- an affirmation of the central truth of the Gospel -- but "I heard a story" ... about this Man. (And I beliiiiiiiieve it, too) The effect is that the song is actually less a straightforward glorification of the Man who gave His life for me, as it is a song about me, hearing and experiencing the story of the Man who gave His life for me. See the difference?

This odd occurrence, of lyrics purportedly exalting Jesus as Lord and Christ, while actually placing at least as much focus on the worshiper doing the exalting, seems to run through many modern choruses -- some of which really do not work as choruses, anyway. Consider Matt Redman's The Heart of Worship (complete lyrics here).

I think this song is supposed to be penitential: "I'm sorry Lord for the thing I've made it ["it" being the act of worship, apparently] When it's all about You ... For a song in itself Is not what You have required ...And it's all about You, All about You, Jesus ... " Here we have a contrite worshiper of the Triune God who realizes that he has made some sort of a mess of the act and work of worship. He has made a "thing" of worship. We are never really told what that "thing" is, but it isn't right and he's sorry about it, and he pledges that from now on he'll bring "more than a song." He will return to the "heart of worship."

OK. Well, whatever his problems were before, he vows that with the Lord's help he will now worship in spirit and in truth. Amen to that. But here's the thing: again, "I" am prominent. Is a chorus of "I'm coming back to the heart of worship!" and, "It's all about You!" really a self-emptying exultation of the Lord Who is worthy of all worship? Or is it more about the songwriter's journey as a worshiper? Chronicling one's path from darkness to light may be personally useful, and may also edify others, but such qualities do not necessarily a God-honoring praise chorus make -- for it is really more "my story" than "The story."

Redman's "It's all about You!" finds its complement in another Passion song, Jesus, Lover of My Soul:

It’s all about you, Jesus.

And all this is for you.

For your glory and your fame.

It’s not about me, as if you should do things my way.

You alone are God, and I surrender to your ways.

There's nothing doctrinally false about these words. There is something about them that is doctrinally lazy, however. Reading them, a great big "No s***, Sherlock!" rises unbidden from me. "Of course it's not about you! When was it ever? This just in: cavities can be bad for your teeth." And so on. Far from a mature insight into the Word of God, this lazy lyric comes off more like an attempt to work into a song the snowclone "It's not about [blank]." Clever. Relevant. Weak is the new Strong. That sort of thing. And once again, we are invited to focus not so much on Christ, as we are on the composer's experience of worshiping Christ, which is not quite the same thing.

Songs like these increase my sympathies -- at least a little -- for the exclusive-Psalmnody crowd. It's hard to go down this self-referential road when you allow yourself nothing but metrical psalms and a pitchpipe. Seriously, though, I believe that the Church has much more to see of unfolding grace, and thus that she should continue to find her voice in new songs. Which is why I am also quite thankful for the Holy Spirit's sovereignty over hymnbooks. The cream continues to rise to the top, and more lousy songs are being left behind every year. I just hope these "Look at Me! I'm on a Journey of Belief!" songs will go the same way. We have far, far better words to sing.

[note: the paragraph-formatting thing is continuing to REALLY annoy me. Everything looked perfect in Preview, with nice spaces between paragraphs, until I right-and-left-justified. The spaces disappeared, and no amount of reformatting brought them back. Aaarrrgghh...]