Recorded Christian Music - Glenn Conjurske
Recorded Christian Music
Abstract of a Sermon Preached on November 21, 1999
by Glenn Conjurske
I begin with what is called contemporary Christian music, though I intend to go deeper than this. And here the first question is not, What is wrong with contemporary Christian music, but, What is wrong with everything which goes by the name of “contemporary”? The plain fact is, it is always changing. This is necessarily implied in its very name. Contemporary music is music which belongs to the times, and music of course which changes with the times. And if you want to know the exact truth of the matter, contemporary music is worldly music, for it is the world which is always changing. The church of God is not given to change as the world is. The church has no reason to change. The church stands upon the solid rock of Holy Scripture, which is the faith once-for-all delivered to the saints. It never changes. What was right a thousand years ago is right today. What was wrong a thousand years ago is wrong today. Not that the church knew everything which was right a thousand years ago. There is always room to learn, and so far to change, but such change will certainly not make us contemporary, for we will change in the opposite direction from the world.
But this “contemporary” music changes with the world, and it must be perfectly plain to anyone who has eyes in his head that “contemporary Christian music,” and the music of the world, are one and the same thing. You know that many of these “Christian recording artists” aspire to “cross over” from their “gospel” music to the secular sort, the same as a minor-league ball player aspires to play in the major leagues. Some also “cross over” from the secular to the (mis-called) sacred, but not by the narrow gate of repentance or conversion, and not by altering their style of music. The music is the same on both sides.
At any rate, contemporary Christian music is music which is always changing—-changing with the times—-and in such times as these what good can we expect here? When we look back at what contemporary Christian music was thirty years ago, and then look at what it is today, and see the vast extent of the change which it has undergone, we must be perfectly horrified to think what it will be tomorrow. But the plain fact is, anyone who has a grain of spiritual sense must be perfectly horrified to see what it is today. It is neither more nor less than the fleshly music of the world, with the name “Christian” tacked on to it, and this justified by the half-Christian words which accompany it.
Now turn to Second Timothy, the third chapter. There we read of the perilous times which shall come in the last days. I believe those last days are upon us. Daniel describes “the time of the end” by saying that “many shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall be increased.” (Daniel 12:4). No better description than this could be found of the time in which we live. By means of the automobile and the airplane, many run to and fro, to an extent that men could not even have dreamed of till the advent of the twentieth century. The same is true of the increase of knowledge—-knowledge from the depths of the sea, to the back side of the moon, to far-distant galaxies. Knowledge to split the atom, and knowledge to perform genetic manipulation of plants, and animals, and man. Close-up photographs of the surface of Mars and the rings of Saturn. The increase of knowledge in the present day is perfectly astounding. A century ago men could hardly guess what Daniel’s prophecy could mean, but now we see it before our eyes. This is “the time of the end.” And if it is, then these perilous times are upon us, times in which men in general are “lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy,” times in which they are “heady, high-minded, and lovers of pleasure more than lovers of God.” And yet these same times are those in which men have a form of godliness, but deny the power thereof—-times in which half the population of the country claims to be evangelical. And our chapter tells us, “from such turn away.”
But those who listen to contemporary Christian music do not turn away “from such,” for you may be certain that the most of these “recording artists” are precisely those who have a form of godliness, but deny the power thereof. If they came and applied for membership in this church, we would be obliged to refuse them, but the plain fact is, they would never apply, for they would not want their style cramped after our fashion. “From such turn away,” the Bible says, but those who listen to their music do not turn away from them, but in fact put themselves under their influence. They don’t listen to this music after the manner of a papal inquisitor reading a Protestant book. No, they listen to it for pleasure, or for spiritual profit, and in any case they certainly put themselves under its influence.
But Paul has a different plan. He speaks of those who have a form of godliness, but deny the power thereof, and immediately presents himself as an example on the other side. “But thou hast fully known my doctrine, manner of life, purpose, faith, long-suffering, charity, patience, persecutions, afflictions,” etc. Thou hast fully known all this, and therefore he adds, “But continue thou in the things which thou hast learned, knowing of whom thou hast learned them.” But to put yourself under the influence of these modern singers is generally to put yourself under the influence of persons of whom you know nothing, and if you did but know their “doctrine and manner of life,” and had any spiritual sense yourself, you must certainly refuse that influence.
When I was a student at Bible school, thirty-five years ago, there was a popular “contemporary” quartet—-”contemporary” then, though doubtless much out of date now—-of the so-called “Southern Gospel” type, which was much admired by some of the students. This group came to the Civic Auditorium in Grand Rapids for a concert, and some of the students must of course go to hear them—-against my advice, I must say. They went, and of course paid their money for this “ministry of music,” but some of them came back with their eyes opened, informing me that these men had large diamonds flashing from most all their fingers. You can’t see the diamonds when you listen to the recordings, but you pay for them, when you buy the recordings, or go to the concerts.
This much I will say of “contemporary” Christian music, but I must go deeper, and speak of all recorded music. Those who listen to it, of course, have their reasons. At any rate, we are sure some of them do. We are pretty sure also that some of them don’t. They simply do what others do, without ever inquiring whether it be good or bad, right or wrong. Perhaps this is the case with most of those who listen to recorded music.
Yet some no doubt have their reasons. Perhaps fifteen years ago a Christian man was recommending to me the music of a certain singer and preacher. He told me, “I go to work in the morning, and work all day in the ungodly world, and when I come home at night I feel spiritually depleted and empty. But when I put on one of these recordings, it lifts me right up, and fills me with the joy of the Lord.” Now the man whose music he was thus recommending to me was Jimmy Swaggart. This was before Swaggart’s scandals were before the public. But I must confess, I do not believe the spiritual up-lift which he got from such a source was worth anything.
But I do not believe this is any spiritual up-lift at all. It may not have the remotest connection with anything spiritual. If I were feeling barren and empty, I could turn the radio to some “Golden Oldies” station, and receive the same kind of up-lift by listening to Skeeter Davis sing,
”Why does the sun go on shining?
Why does the sea rush to shore?
Don’t they know it’s the end of the world,
‘Cause you don’t love me any more?”
This is no spiritual up-lift at all, but purely an emotional up-lift. We might receive the same kind of up-lift from any pleasing music, sacred or secular. Polkas would do it for some, or classical music. It is proof, certainly, of the power of music, but of nothing more than that.
Well, then, if we so believe in the power of music, why would we object to the use of it? We certainly do not object to the use of music in its place, but here I must call your attention to one obvious fact. God never created recorded music, nor any of the means by which to record it. He placed man on the earth without any such thing, and the fact is, man lived on the earth through almost the whole of his existence without any such thing. If you need this spiritual or emotional up-lift, then you need what God never gave to man, and what all the godly have lived without from the foundation of the world, and that through all those centuries in which they were obliged to face toils and hardships and persecutions of which modern man knows nothing. The apostle Paul never had it when he languished in prison, no, nor when he was pressed out of measure outside the prison, so that he despaired even of life. All this affliction God saw, and yet God deprived him of the pleasure and the solace of recorded music.
When Martin Luther spent his lonely days and nights—-his lonely weeks and months—-imprisoned in the Wartburg castle, subject to all the depression and discouragement of such a place and such a plight, subject even to dark hallucinatory imaginations, so that he supposed the devil bodily present in the room with him, and threw the ink stand at him, ah! how soothing it would then have been, if he could have but turned on the radio, and listened to some pleasing music! But God gave him no such thing. But you will say, It wasn’t yet invented—-as though that could be any trouble to God! God could have arranged its invention on the spot, next door to the flaming sword which kept man out of Eden, or next door to the Wartburg Castle which confined Luther. In lieu of that, he could have opened heaven, and let Luther listen to the angels sing. But he did no such thing. He left him to suffer without any such solace. He deprived Luther, in his great trials, of what you think you need in your petty trials.
So too when Elijah dwelt in the cave, discouraged to death, praying that God might take away his life. He had no musical recordings to soothe him. Neither had Joseph when he languished in the prison, nor John Bunyan, when he languished in the prison, nor Adoniram Judson when he languished and suffered in the prison. Was God remiss for sixty centuries? Does modern man know better than the Ancient of Days? Is man wiser than God? Is man better than God?
The plain fact is this, either recorded music is totally unnecessary for any spiritual purpose whatsoever, or God was totally remiss in the matter for sixty centuries.
I could ask some further questions also. Is modern man better off than the whole race has been through the whole of its existence? Is the Christianity of the present day—-augmented by such a boon—-is it a higher, better Christianity than ever the world had seen before the present century? Have the triumphs of faith of the present day surpassed all those of the preceding sixty centuries, when men had none of the benefits of recorded music? Are the saints stronger today than ever they have been in history? Is holiness purer? Has worldliness declined? Is faith brighter? Does the trumpet of testimony give a more certain sound? If this recorded music is in fact beneficial, then surely we must be able to point to some of the benefits of it. Where are they? The plain fact is, the church is in such a low condition today, so weak and so languid, that we can scarcely tell if she is alive or dead, and this while she is almost immersed in recorded music.
I believe I have proved by fair argument that recorded music is totally unnecessary, but I contend further that it is a positive detriment, and that in more ways than one. We know that for all its boasted benefits, the church today is in a perilously low condition. Recorded music has certainly done nothing to remedy that. All its influence is on the other side. The fact is, like the automobile and the telephone, and all the wonders of modern technology in general, recorded music appeals to and strengthens all the worst propensities of our nature. We are all of us weak enough, but this music panders to our weakness, and makes the weak weaker. When Elijah was pouting in the cave, God didn’t send him any music, but accosted him with, “What doest thou here, Elijah?” “Quit you like men! Be strong!”
If you stand in need of recorded music, this is no strength, but weakness altogether, like that of some babies I have known, and toddlers too, who were addicted to their pacifiers. Only let the slightest inconvenience overtake them, only let the slightest contrary wind ruffle their fur, and immediately they must be soothed by sucking. Well, God created that need, and created their mother’s breast to satisfy it, but some babies could wear out three mothers a day. They need to be restrained, and taught to deny themselves too. This is strength. It is weakness to have to suck to cope with our infant troubles. Recorded music panders to our weakness, the same as the pacifier does. Babies raised without it are emotionally the stronger.
Ah, but some tell me they are weak—-and it is no sin to be weak. No, but it may be sin to cultivate our weakness. I doubt any of you are as weak as I am, in frequent suffering with a bad back and a bad heart, often tossing and turning in pain and uneasiness while you sleep, often depressed and restless and discouraged, despised and rejected, forsaken of friends, dogged by poverty, I could use the solace of recorded music as much as anyone, but I don’t believe it healthy. It strengthens our weakness, and weakens our spirits. “Our fathers chained in prisons dark” had none of this, nor any of the men of faith who “dwelt in dens and caves of the earth,” or “wandered about in sheepskins and goatskins, being destitute, afflicted, tormented.” They must have needed this as much as we do, but God never gave it.
We all have troubles enough, but where does God prescribe listening to music? What saith the Scripture? Read with me from the fifth chapter of James, the thirteenth verse. “Is any afflicted? Let him turn on the radio. Is any merry? Let him listen to music.” No, that wasn’t a modern translation, but I read it with my modern glasses on. But what does James actually say? “Is any afflicted? Let him pray,” not listen to soothing music. “Is any merry? Let him sing,” not listen to music. This was the way of all the saints since the foundation of the world. Does the modern church really know better? Is the modern method actually productive of more good, or a higher state of spirituality?
But I know what people will say. The standard objection, which I hear whenever I speak against any kind of worldliness, or point out the dangers of any of man’s inventions, is this: “But you drive an automobile.” Yes, I drive an automobile, but I don’t listen to one. I don’t feed my mind and soul with it. Neither do I put my body into the hands of some flashy young “driving artist,” to let him carry me whither he will, as you do your soul with some “recording artist.” And if I didn’t drive an automobile, I would probably drive a horse. We must use some kind of locomotion to get from one place to another.
But more. I am fully aware of the evils of the automobile. I use it as I use the rest of the world. I hold it loosely. I use the thing for necessary transportation, without loving it or approving the desires and principles which created it. Is this the way you use recorded music? The two things are so far different in kind, that I must take leave to doubt the sincerity of those who endeavor to align them.
But recorded music is a positive detriment for another reason. It stands in the way of serious thought and deep meditation. I tell you plainly that in reading the literature of the church today, in conversing with the Christians of the present day, I find them in general to be so absolutely shallow that I am ready to despair of teaching the truth of God in such a day as this. The people in general have no ability to think, and no capacity to understand. And I believe that recorded music is one of the primary things responsible for such a state of things. You cannot think with music playing in your ears. You may think some pious thoughts—-may even get some pious thoughts from the music—-but I mean you cannot engage in any deep or serious thought about anything. You cannot meditate. You cannot wrestle with any questions of conscience or doctrine or practice. Your mind is soothed and placid, and if you keep it that way by frequent indulgence in recorded music—-or constant indulgence, as is the case with many—-this becomes the habit of your mind, and you lose your ability for any depth of thought. I believe this is where most of the church is today, and I believe recorded music is largely responsible for it, though television is another large contributor.
Some will say they do not use this music for solace, but for profit. If so, I think they are further astray than those who use it for solace. This music stands in the way of their profit. Paul says, “Give attendance to reading, to exhortation, to doctrine. Meditate upon these things; give thyself wholly to them, that thy profiting may appear to all.” (I Tim. 4:13 & 15). Where does he tell us to listen to music, that our profiting may appear to all? The plain fact is, recorded music stands directly in the way of the very things to which Paul tells us to give ourselves wholly, that our profiting may appear to all. Reading. Doctrine. Meditation. Recorded music thrusts all these directly out the door, and shuts the door against their entrance, and so precludes the very things which Paul prescribes for your profit. It makes the mind passive and placid, and really unfits it, at least for the time being, for the more solid work which Paul prescribes.
You understand now, I am not speaking here of the evil sort of music which is called “contemporary.” I am speaking of all recorded music. Take the most conservative that can be found. Take the a cappella recordings of the conservative Mennonites—-though by my standards there is enough that is objectionable even in those, and to refuse the use of musical instruments, while we listen to musical recordings, looks to me like straining out a gnat and swallowing a camel. But waive that. Take the most conservative and unobjectionable recordings you can find, unless you mean to make your own—-take the a cappella Psalms of David, sung by the old Calvinists—-and still I ask, What ever gave any child of God the notion that God intended for us to listen to recorded music at all? Are we merely to do what the rest of the world does, without ever inquiring concerning its character or effects? Where is anything like this prescribed in the Bible? You will tell me they had singers in the temple of the Jews. Yes, they had—-though this argument can be of no possible use to those who refuse musical instruments—-but this temple singing was not easily accessible, nor available at all times. To listen to this could only have been a very occasional thing. It is one of the great evils of modern technology that it gives us constant access to a great profusion of those things which God gave to man only sparingly and occasionally. Everything is cheapened by this, and man himself very much weakened.
Do I then recommend the occasional or moderate use of recorded music? To begin with, I would have to distinguish between “occasional” and “moderate.” “Occasional” might mean once a year. “Moderate” might mean every day—-must at least mean something which is frequent or habitual. At for “occasional,” I will not go so far as to condemn every instance of it, regardless of its purpose. I am not relentless, neither do I know everything, and I desire to give as much as I can here. This much I will say. I believe it to be a spiritual experience when I sit down at the piano, and sing, or try to sing through my tears,
”He speaks, and the sound of his voice
Is so sweet the birds hush their singing,”
or
“Just as I am, poor, wretched, blind,
Sight, riches, healing of the mind,
Yea, all I need in thee to find,
O Lamb of God, I come,”
or
“Love in that story so tender,
Clearer than ever I see:
Stay, let me weep while you whisper,
Love paid the ransom for me.”
I say, I believe this is spiritual experience, spiritual as well as emotional, and I can rarely sing through such verses without being moved to tears, and so choked up that I can scarcely sing at all, for when I sing my own soul is involved in the matter. But I wonder how many have any such experience in listening to others do their singing for them. Perhaps you do, and if so I will not condemn it, but I doubt most people do. It hardly seems that God intended we should be mere spectators, or auditors, in the matter of singing, and my experience indicates that singing and listening to singing are not the same thing. There may not be so much difference between them as there is between getting married and watching a wedding, but it would seem there is difference enough. Singing engages your own soul, your own mind and emotions. Listening to music makes the mind passive and placid, and stands in the way of anything deep or solid. It is pleasant, no doubt, but is it profitable? One of the hidden evils of recorded music lies precisely in the fact that it is so good. It is commonly produced by the best musical talent in the land, and is therefore immeasurably more pleasing than anything which most of us could produce ourselves, with our own voices or instruments. The very beauty of it—-the extreme pleasure of it—-makes it addictive, and much of both the world and the church is quite addicted to it. Yet if “She that liveth in pleasure is dead while she liveth,” how dead must she be who lives her whole waking life with this enchanting pleasure flooding her soul?—-and what gain if she substitutes Christian for secular music? Recorded music offers us incessant indulgence in the most delightful pleasure, and many indulge in it with little or no restraint. This works directly against the very principle of self-denial—-weakens the will, disinclines us to self-denial—-and so works directly against real religion. Everything which is very pleasing is dangerous. Hence the Bible says, “Hast thou found honey? Eat so much as is sufficient for thee.” But most people really surfeit themselves on recorded music, precisely because it is so pleasing, and so their good is actually turned to evil.
As for the “moderate” use of recordings, I can hardly recommend that, for though we might thus decrease the dangers already spoken of, we will hardly eliminate them, and there is another danger awaiting us here. Supposing you can find some recorded music which is all good—-not fleshly, spiritual in both substance and performance, Scripturally sound and solid, not shallow, not mere sentimentalism—-supposing you can find some such. By hard looking you might. And supposing you use this in moderation. What is the danger of that?
First of all, I believe that the moderate use of this music will contribute to the weakening of our moral faculties, and stand in the way of our growth and our profiting, the same as the constant use of it will, only in a lesser degree. This is danger enough. But a further danger is, it opens the door to something worse. It puts the camel’s nose in the door of the tent, and the whole camel will not be far behind. In the first place, there are very few Christians who have spiritual principle and discernment enough to tell what is good and what not in Christian music. In this sphere, most of them need a shepherd, to lead them by the hand. When they listen to any Christian recordings, they open the door to more, and to worse. I speak what I know. The very Christian radio stations which pride themselves on being conservative in the music which they use are drifting along with the rest of the church. Conservative they may be, when compared to other stations, but they are not so conservative this year as they were a few years ago, and they will be still less so a few years hence. There is music which the conservative Christians listen to today which no Christian would have tolerated at all forty years ago.
But supposing you are one of those rare souls who actually has spirituality enough to judge of what music is sound and solid, and will never drift at all. Can you say the same of your children? Of the souls under your care? They see your example. You listen to recorded music, and so will they, but they have none of your depth of discernment. They will let down the standards from where you hold them. They will drift, if you don’t. You open the door, but they will determine what comes through it. So you cause the weak to stumble. Better far to keep the door closed.
I am well aware that this argument is used as a catch-all for anything which anybody wishes to oppose, and it is sometimes used to proscribe things which God condones. I know that, but still I believe it valid here, for where does God condone recorded music? You will not die without that soothing sound. Luther didn’t. Elijah didn’t. Joseph didn’t, and all these had more to endure than you do. Neither will your soul suffer for the lack of such music. Peter, Paul, and John had none of it, and yet I dare say their souls were as healthy as yours. Paul and Barnabas, shut up in the prison, backs bleeding, feet fast in the stocks, indeed sang, but they had no music to listen to. Would you sing in their plight, or turn on a recording?
It has been objected that King Saul had David to sing for him in his trouble of heart. Yes, he had, but this is a most unfortunate example for your cause. Saul was ungodly, and disobedient. The Lord had rejected and forsaken him. An evil spirit was upon him from the Lord, and he was troubled, perhaps depressed, or full of unrest. His real and only business at such a time was repentance. An evil spirit was upon him from the Lord, and he ought to have sought the Lord by repentance to have it removed, but instead of this he sought the music of David, to soothe him in his sins, and to abstract his mind from his troubles. We have little doubt that this is precisely the purpose of much of the world’s recorded music, and it is doubtless the effect of much of recorded Christian music, if not its purpose.
Do I say there is no good in recorded music? Not at all. We may find good in most anything, even in garbage cans, but I don’t hunt for my dinner there. Whatever good I can find in the garbage can I can find also at the grocery store. And whatever good you might find in recorded music you can find elsewhere also, and without the evils and dangers of it. Every saint of God lived without it for sixty centuries, and God never moved a finger to give it to them. It is absolutely unnecessary, and positively detrimental besides. Here I stand. I hope you stand with me.
Glenn Conjurske