Excellence, Worship, and American Idol
If you live in USA it is hard to ignore the fact that American Idol is back in full swing for its new season (and stop grumbling about silly television or our worship of popular culture – you know you watch it). As the season gets going viewers are subjected to the horrifically enthralling auditions. Amongst the handful of contestants that can actually sing there are those who are merely there to grasp their 15 seconds of fame (and yes I am still disturbed by the guy in the Princess Leia slave-girl costume). Then there are those who contrary to reality truly believe they have some ability to sing. Their confidence is high, their friends and family have praised their voices, and then they are shocked and generally incredulous when the judges reject them. While I assume the purpose of highlighting such contestants is to mock them, I am left feeling awkward.
While I understand that the driving force behind American Idol is fame, I have to question where the line of "excellence" can be drawn. If a person can't sing then being famous and having a career based on one's singing ability isn't an option. But what about worship? In churches today worship is generally associated with music. If a person can't sing can they participate in worship? What about lead worship? Does excellence and skill matter in those areas or do enjoyment and giving glory to God trump the ability requirement?
I know in many ways this is a silly question (of course if people want to sing to God they should be able to), but as I watched yet more worship leaders and choir members get mocked on American Idol the question came to mind. I know I've personally sat through some very painful "special music" moments and have sat silently through worship because the leader was so bad it was impossible to sing along. There is the part of me that wants to be generous and accept the messiness of it all. I want to say that having a good heart and a willingness to try is more than enough. But then I find myself squirming to some off-key song, or faltering sermon, or sappy poem, or amateur art, or stumbling dance done in the name of worship and I don't know what to think. Do I lie and pretend it's good? Do I tell the truth and defeat the entire purpose of the act? And this isn't some snobbish condescension about someone not being classically trained or having sufficient(??) theological training, just that I'm so uncomfortable that I often go hide in the bathroom to escape. (and before I go further let me say that I know I've forced others to suffer through my junk, so this is about me too).
Maybe I'm just self-centered and judgmental and I should just shut-up and deal with it. I'm sure the typical poor singer given the mic on a Sunday morning doesn't harbor delusions of grandeur, so I should just be more generous in appreciating sincere effort. This isn't about me, it's about God, so I just need to get over my distraction. Or perhaps I can lay all the blame at the church's obsession with performance driven worship. (Come on, if it's a performance at least it can be good…) In our misunderstanding of what it means to worship we've laid expectations on it that were never meant to be there. I honestly don't know. Is this just me being weird or is this a question others have as well?
julieclawson(at)gmail(dot)com 
you know you watch it
Absolutely not. I despise that show, along with all other game shows and "Reality Television" (though for some reason I can stomach Jeopardy a little). Actually, I just don't like games or competitions in general.
I think, in a way, we are dealing with the nature of incarnational worship. We are sloppy and bumbling creatures, trying to worship a magnificent God; we are unlikely to be sublime every time. I suppose the goal is to be compassionate enough to be able to worship through someone's flawed performance, and being humble enough to recognize when we are not using our skills.
You might like Annie Dillard's essay on this subject in Teaching a Stone to Talk. She compares congregational worship to the quest for the North and South Poles. It is a beautiful essay.
I think a big part of the trouble does lie in the confusion of performance and worship. The need to give everyone a moment in the spotlight just doesn't make sense — especially when it's as painful for the congregation as the performer. Personally, I can't carry a tune in a paper bag, but I can manage if enough people around me are reasonably close to the tune. If a congregation just doesn't have anyone who can sing on key and lead the rest of us, maybe they should use tapes. It might be less distracting. I think it's a fallacy to expect even small congregations to have enough talent to assemble a worship band that will help, not hinder, worship.
As far as all those choir members on Idol go, well, let's just say some churches have attempted to speak the truth in love by erring entirely too much on the side of love.
Julie,
My husband and I lead music in a service at our church. As a worship music leader, the question regarding myself is easy- i always do my best. Sometimes that's pretty good, and other times it's not as good.
But when it comes to other people- sheesh. It's so much harder to think through. Where I usually come down is that I expect others who assist in music to do their best, too. That doesn't mean the best they can do after not practicing and arriving too late for a sound check never mind a rehearsal. I mean their actual best. After rehearsing- as much as necessary. After getting up early enough to practice again before the service. Sometimes people still choke, but most folks in the congregation can tell if someone tried hard and choked anyway out of fear or whatever, or if they didn't give a rat's ass to begin with and that's why they choked.
My ultimate goal is to be so good that the congregation doesn't notice me. That- on the rare occasion that I manage it, is when I've really done my job well. I don't think it's ever too much to ask that people offer their best for God in worship. There's plenty of biblical support for excellence in service and worship.
There's so much more than can be said about "our best" also having to do with choosing our offerings based on how we're talented rather than the things that might potentially receive the most recognition. Most congregations can smell insincerity from a mile away, too. But I'll stop here. I tend to rant a bit on this subject
My faith has a program which is mostly singing and our local congregation is small in the sense that we have professional singing but we also need those people who may not be able to practice or have the best skills/potential.
What I personally find ( agree with previous post) is that the people who have "heart" or "devotion" or whatever word you use, as opposed to the "fame" intention have a sweetness and an upliftment that allows me to "feel" God in congregation as opposed to why did I show, they couldn't sing.
While I assume the purpose of highlighting such contestants is to mock them
I've always thought it was to elicit the empathy of the audience, causing vicarious horror at one's fears (usually public speaking) actually coming true for real people right in front of their eyes. Like watching a slasher flick.
On the more serious topic, I'm the worst of congregants when the music is bad: my brother and I made fun of the little kid's cello at Christmas this year. However, I'm hoping that as the Kingdom of Heaven gets more and more jurisdiction over me, I will be able to delight more and more in the offerings of all talent levels of people.
I'm not taking bets on when that's going to happen. It's s good thing she's God because I've got a long way to go.
I can relate to those feelings and questions Julie. I often come back to this quote from C.S. Lewis about church attendance and worship:
"I disliked very much their hymns, which I considered to be fifth-rate poems set to sixth-rate music. But as I went on I saw the great merit of it. I came up against different people of quite different outlooks and different education, and then gradually my conceit just began peeling off. I realized that the hymns (which were just sixth-rate music) were, nevertheless, being sung with devotion and benefit by an old saint in elastic-side boots in the opposite pew, and then you realize that you aren't fit to clean those boots. It gets you out of your solitary conceit."
God in the Dock, pp. 61-62.
Maria – we mostly sing along with MP3s at our church. This was a bit disappointing to some people at first who were expecting an emerging church to be all young, hip, and relevant with an awesome band or something. They didn't stick around too long. Not that MP3s aren't awkward to sing along to either since they were created as performances to be heard and not for ease of singability.
Karl – it's just than even when I fully recognize the devotion, I still want to crawl under my seat and hide from time to time. I have a hard time ignoring that feeling!
There is no answer to this question, no line that can be drawn. Everything will be on a case-by-case basis. That's why I like small churches. Everyone understand and knows the person. It's not like a mega-church where you must have a policy or you might get inundated with mediocre and even poor requests to sing.
Everyone can be charitable for a time or two, but no church wants to exhibit bad singing very often.
I have no idea how to keep this straight. But I know that for the last 15 years, the issue of people's feelings and the quality of worship has never been a clean and easy one.
Julie–great post and great questions. Haven't seen more than a few minutes this season, but hope to get back into Idol-mode soon as we have a lot of fun as a family watching together.
In church, there are definitely times when an amazing singer can lift me up closer to God with their voice… it just rises and takes me with it. But honestly, when the band goes quiet… and the voices of the entire "non-singing" congregation fill the room… that's when the music really feels like the power of Christ.
I had a professor once (in a class entitled "Church Music and the Christian Faith) propose the idea of a "theology of skill," which meant elevating our standards for music leadership in worship above a "make a joyful noise" mentality.
Embedded in this was a discussion of spiritual gifts. Different people involved in our churches and our worship have different gifts. We expect our preachers to deliver honest, thoughtful, and theologically beneficial sermons. We expect our teachers to be effective and competent. We expect the youth pastor to be able to relate to and plan events for youth. And in all of these positions, we have no problem making distinctions based on gifts (skill?). Perhaps encouraging people to serve according to their gifts might mean that some people lead music in worship and others don't.
I'm just thinking out loud here…