Why not both?
I was thinking this morning about the first time we went to our church. Because my great-nephew was coming to live with us, we needed to find a church with a praise band. But we also needed a church that conformed to our values – so the search was on! I looked at a lot of church websites.
The little chapel had stained glass windows that were modern, but not abstract. There were traditional pews, and a center aisle. An altogether conventional worship space. The small chancel area was set up for the band: a couple of guitarists, someone on the keyboard. But there was no sign of the minister. Suddenly, a man dashed in through the side door. He peeled off his stole and robe, draping them over the front pew, and bounded up the steps to take his seat behind the drum kit. A quick drum riff, and we were ready for worship to start.
I leaned over and whispered to my husband, “That’s the Senior Pastor.” Evidently, as can happen, he got tied up in a conversation in the coffee hour between services. I knew then that this would be a place where contemporary met traditional in a good way.
There are patterns in the music I listen to as I weave. When I weave purple for Lent or Advent, I tend to listen to early music – Gregorian Chant – although the Fauré Requiem generally works its way in. White for Easter or Christmas brings out the classical, and I will usually listen to Handel’s Messiah a couple of times. Ordinary time brings out the traditional hymns, also gospel. But red for Pentecost – that’s when the modern praise music gets cranked up.
I have to wonder why we seem so anxious to build a wall of separation between “traditional” and “contemporary.” The rose window can coexist with the video screen. The pipe organ can be as loud – louder! – than the band (I know, I checked with the decibel meter app on my phone). The robe and the stole and the fair linens on the altar aren’t negated by greeters in jeans and t-shirts.*
And if the words to the hymn that I’ve sung all my life have been modernized to be more inclusive, well, I’ll get over it, thank you, because I know that inclusion is important.
The music should invite the little ones to come to the altar.
*Some years ago, our pastor asked some of us to “dress down” on Sunday mornings, so visitors would feel more comfortable, no matter how they were dressed.
