Too Much Bono in the Church? –– Part Two

Is it possible that one of the unintended consequences of spectacular worship is that it teaches us we cannot truly worship God without the lights, band, and sound system? For all the good it can offer, might our programs accidentally reinforce the belief that people can only fully encounter God in a rocking church? This is worth considering.

Instead of putting all our resources into providing “amazing worship experiences” every Sunday, what if we spent an equal amount of energy teaching people how to have eyes to see God all week long? Yes, God can be experienced powerfully as we sing at the top of our lungs, and I hope we keep doing that. But God can also be experienced in our conversation with the stressed-out cashier at Target, if we have eyes to see. And God can be found while cutting the lawn, riding the subway, giving our kids a bath, weeping with a broken-hearted friend, and taking that first glorious sip of coffee in the morning. The question is not, “Is God in all those moments?” God is fully everywhere, for it is in God we live, move, and have our being. The question is whether we have eyes to see.

Thus a gracious, holistic church will offer its community wise practices, clear teaching, and safe spaces in which to cultivate eyes to see and worship God every moment from the sanctuary to the soccer field to the dinner table. . .

Church communities are not consumers to be entertained or donors to be appeased. They are instead God’s deeply loved daughters and sons who need to be lovingly pastored. How can we make sure we are pastoring them well? Get clear about the question you ask that drives your worship choices. The question we ask will direct the outcome. If the driving (functional) question is, “How do we get the room pumped up in the first thirty minutes of the church service?” the answer will never be, “Corporate confession.” Or prayer for the world. Or silence. Or blessing our enemies. Or an extended reading from scripture. Or lament. Or lectio divina (reading scripture in order to pray). But if the question is, “How do we form each person into Christlikeness for the sake of the world?” then all of the above will be deeply necessary and healing. And such a gift to all who are on the treadmill of figuring out how to top last Sunday. I recommend that each ministry team try to name the question driving what you do. (Not the question you know you should be asking and answering, but the actual question framing your church and ministry.) Very little can change until this question changes.

A gracious, holistic church will offer its community wise practices, clear teaching, and safe spaces to discern the questions driving us and allow God to give birth to new, deeper, and more life-bringing questions.

Aaron Niequist is a worship leader, songwriter, and pastor. Currently, he curates a discipleship-focused, formational, ecumenical, practice-based community called “The Practice” at Willow Creek Community Church in South Barrington, Illinois.

Aaron Niequist, “Too Much Bono in the Church?” Liturgy 32, no. 1 (2017): 42-45.

Too Much Bono in the Church? –– Part One

About ten years ago, I wrote an article called “Everything I Know about Worship Leading I Learned from an Irish Rock Star,” in which I reflected on Bono as the model for modern-day worship leaders. View all notes Because of my background in large Evangelical churches (Mars Hill Bible Church in Grand Rapids, Michigan, and Willow Creek Community Church in Chicago, Illinois), I lauded his ability to harness the energy of a stadium upward, affirmed his understand of the nature of praise, and was inspired by his relentless call to action on behalf of the poor. These were three characteristics of the kind of community we were trying to become, and U2 offered the ultimate example of worship in this kind of church.

But after seeing U2 last summer in Chicago, I no longer agree with what I wrote. . .

As I marveled at Bono’s ability to create such an epic worship experience, it occurred to me that this anthemic, euphoric, and cathartic euphoria is the perfect model for a traveling rock show but may be a potentially unhelpful model for weekly worship. And yet so many worship leaders––myself included––have been trying to emulate this mountaintop experience every Sunday morning for years, asking, “Did people lift their hands in the air? Did they sing loudly? Did they have a deeply authentic emotional experience?” These questions, learned from traveling rock stars, have come to define much of the current Christian worship culture.

Disney World is a wonderful place to visit but would be a strange place to live. An extravagant twelve-course meal is great for an anniversary celebration, but impossible to replicate every night. In the same way, I am becoming convinced that a rock concert worship event is wonderful in small doses but dangerous when it becomes normative.

Mountaintop experiences are not the entirety of the Christian life. And if our worship experience communicates that this is what everyone should be feeling all the time, we do a huge disservice to people who are currently in the valley or will be in the valley––which is everyone. There is a reason the Psalms include celebration, lament, anger, joy, dancing, and doubt. In fact, while over 30 percent of the Psalms are lament, looking at the top 100 contemporary (or “modern”) worship songs, you see that almost none are lament. As a result, our faith can get lopsided, and we do not always know how to engage the pain and heartbreak of life if we have only chosen the top songs or failed to use a range of Psalms.

Thankfully God does not just live on the mountaintop. . .  God does not always fix the issue but does something infinitely more profound: God weeps with us, inviting us to join the work of healing.

But to become aware of this, we cannot always be shouting from the triumphant peak. And a gracious, holistic church will offer its community wise practices, clear teaching, and safe spaces to learn how to embrace God in every emotional space from the summit to the valley.

Aaron Niequist is a worship leader, songwriter, and pastor. Currently, he curates a discipleship-focused, formational, ecumenical, practice-based community called “The Practice” at Willow Creek Community Church in South Barrington, Illinois.

Aaron Niequist, “Too Much Bono in the Church?” Liturgy 32, no. 1 (2017): 42-45.

Lessons on Liturgical Change, Part 2

Stephen Ellingson, author of The Megachurch and the Mainline (Univ of Chicago, 2007), studied for three years the effects of worship changes made in nine churches in California’s Bay Area. Here are some of his conclusions:

One of the simplest but most useful insights I gained about the process of change in the study congregations is that leaders must strike a balance between innovation in worship and continuity with past practices. My analysis of change in worship supports the key insight from other sociologists of religion who argue that core theological tenets and ritual practices must be preserved and that members must be able to see how that new form or elements of worship is related to the old 

 If change is seen as a radical or a complete break with the past, members are likely to reject it as (1) not authentic to or faithful to the tradition, (2) unintelligible, and (3) too difficult to master. If the new worship practices differ too radically from the old, members are likely to leave or give “voice” (e.g., complain, mobilize to prevent change, or push the congregation into open conflict) 

 Concerns about the loss of members or the possibility of conflict (which could exacerbate membership loss) were very important to the study congregations as they struggled to cope with the ongoing decline of mainline Protestantism in northern California. Most of the congregations also voiced a commitment to retaining the theological core of Lutheranism, which they understood to be one way to distinguish their church from nondenominational congregations that were flourishing in their communities.  

. . . . In short, the services. . . considered continuous with the Lutheran tradition. . . conformed to the format of the older order of service, emphasized key theological tenets of grace and sola fide (Martin Luther’s phrase “faith alone”), and were organized around the preaching of the Gospel and the rite of community. But the changed worship was also seen as novel in that its musical idioms reflected contemporary pop music, it included a greater emphasis theologically on conversion and sanctification, and it appealed as much to emotion as to intellect. . .   

At some congregations, the process of change was smooth because so many members simply did not know much about (or care to preserve) the core. At other congregations, concerns about continuity led to a both–and strategy in which the non-Lutheran contemporary service existed alongside the traditional liturgical service. . . . 

Worship matters because it is the primary way in which congregants learn the basic tenets of the Christian faith, experience the blessings (e.g., forgiveness) and challenges (e.g., sin) of the Christian life, and meet the God they worship. When churches change the content of worship it may challenge congregants’ understanding of their religious identity and commitments, and thus provoke conflict. Similarly, changes in the form of worship or how it is organized may be met with resistance because it may affect the theological content of worship, as well as what congregants are able to hear and their ability to participate. 

. . . Congregational leaders would be best served by identifying how members experience services (what they believe is most important about worship) and by gauging congregants’ level of commitment to specific liturgical forms, styles, or practices.

Stephen Ellingson, “Why Worship Matters: Lessons from Lutheran Congregations Struggling in a World of Liturgical Change,” Liturgy 32, no. 1 (2017): 32-41.