If I have learned anything from Cultural Anthropology this semester, apart from the fact that Monsma has an unending arsenal of bad puns, it is that language matters. The language and words we use shape the way we understand the world. Our different word choices can lead to harmless and rather entertaining debates about whether to call something a casserole or a hotdish, or if the game is called duck, duck, goose or duck, duck, gray duck. Yet, words can have dangerous implications when we carelessly describe a cultural practice as “weird” or label someone different than us as “other.” However, I am not here to talk about the words we use to describe each other, though that is an extremely important conversation to have. Rather, I ask you to consider what words we use to describe God and the implications of these choices.
Of course, there is the Sunday school answer, God is love or God is good. Maybe even God is all-powerful. However, I think the best way to examine how we truly describe God is to look at how we sing about him, to look at worship music. Let me give an example. In the song “Graves into Gardens” by Brandon Lake, the lines of the first verse say, “Then You came along and put me back together. And every desire is now satisfied here in Your love.” There it is, God is love right? Well, kind of. The song is mostly talking about how great God’s love makes the singer feel. This is the focus of many worship songs, not the being of God, rather the feeling of God. We are singing about what God can give us and praising God for how he can heal us, not for who he is.
Here is where I see the problem. God is not a feeling, nor should he be talked about as such. Song and liturgy are powerful things. If the language we use to describe God in our corporate worship is confined to what God does for us and the emotional experience of God, this is a terrible distortion of God’s character.
Now I am not saying that Lake, the writer of the song “Graves into Gardens,” hates God and has horrible theology. I really enjoy the song, and there is a time and a place for emotional songs of praise for what God has done for us. The people of Israel exemplified this when they sang together to praise God after the parting of the Red Sea in Exodus 15. However, this was praise for a specific event where God provided for the whole community. In this case, no one was excluded from praising God for what he had done. However, this is not often the case with many worship songs.
Lyrics like the bridge from “Holy Spirit Come” by Patrick Mayberry, that say “Oh, can you see it? He’s got your healing. Oh, just receive it. Receive the freedom,” say nothing to the experience of the student sitting in chapel struggling with an intense depressive episode, or the professor whose family member just died. “Oh, can you feel it?” Quite frankly, no.
Of course, we are to praise God in all circumstances. However, the emotionally charged lyrics of these songs are mostly not about God being faithful, but rather about how great it is to feel God’s presence. These songs fail to express that God is faithful with or without the feeling of his nearness.
While I do not think we should stop singing worship songs people love, I do think we must examine what we are really praising, and who are we excluding from worship. We must also remember that worship is still fully worship in emotional highs and the depths of despair. Our emotions are not indicative of God’s presence, faithfulness or responsiveness to our worship. God is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow, regardless of the way our words fall short.
