Author Archives: Michael Riley

In my last post, I began a discussion of a few points about diversity (ultimately, about diversity in worship music) that built a bit of framework before we consider Bob Kauflin’s arguments. The first point that I made is that diversity is a proximate, not ultimate, good.

I had said previously that I had three points; the second of the three, however, rolled into the first; I will therefore suggest only one more.

2. The value of diversity, considered within the context of corporate worship, is even more limited.

I am committed to the regulative principle of worship. Because others have written more careful and substantial descriptions and defenses of the regulative principle, I will not attempt anything profound here. The short form of the RP is this: in the context of corporate worship, the church is permitted to do only what Scripture commands it to do.

If the RP is true, there are hosts of good things that the church is simply not permitted to insist that people do in the gathered worship. (If you understand the concept of the RP, you will recognize that, among other things, it protects the liberty of the believer’s conscience.) So, for instance, I noted in a previous post that different cultures have different kinds of greeting rituals. I also contended that these greeting rituals do not all say the same thing; they communicate in different ways, and in so doing, sometimes communicate different messages.

We are commanded in the context of the gathered church to greet one another. While high fives and small talk are not evil (they can, on the contrary, be very good), neither are fair equivalents (in our culture) of the holy kiss (in the NT church); to insist that these elements become part of the gathered worship is, therefore, to violate the RP.

It seems to me that those elements of worship which include the direct participation of the congregation ought to be even more thoughtful about the implications of the RP, as one of its chief purposes is to protect the believer’s conscience. Can we, for instance, rightly insist that the believer sing in church? On the authority of Scripture? I believe that we can.

Can we rightly insist on singing with instruments? Or singing songs of non-inspired composition? Again, I think we can, and that we have Scriptural reasons for saying so. Those who would scoff at such questions demonstrate that they do not take the authority of Scripture in gathered worship seriously enough. Contentious debate has, at various times in church history, surrounded each of these questions; to consider such questions foolish is to engage in a sort of chronological snobbery.

The point of all of this is that the regulative principle, rightly understood, adds constraints to the value of diversity. We may not import elements into corporate worship merely on the basis of our own justification; they must be authorized by our one final rule for faith and practice.

And we now return to our regularly scheduled discussion.

In my previous post in this series, I argued that the proposed benefits of musical diversity in worship present an interesting conundrum, in that these advantages are inversely proportional to one another. This observation does not undermine the argument for diversity in worship (ADW); however, by showing that the proponents of ADW have created a “heads we win, tails you lose” situation, I hope to have shown that diversity is not as perfectly glowing as it might seem at first glance.

What I’m going to do in this post is set up some background discussion about how we might evaluate diversity as a good. This is an important discussion before turning to Kaulfin’s specific arguments, because this discussion creates the boundaries on our potential agreement with him. So, for instance, even if we agree with Kauflin that God’s immensity and incomprehensibility suggest that one style of music is not sufficient to reflect his attributes, we need to know whether his argument thereby justifies every single style of music. Does diversity have limits?

With that introduction, I now offer three propositions (two of which will be forthcoming):

1. Diversity is a proximate, not ultimate, good.

I am somewhat hesitant to articulate this point publicly, because I haven’t yet found a set of terms that satisfies me. However, I will sketch my point here, and hope that I am saying something coherent.

That we are both fallen and finite is abundantly evident, and one result of these limitations is that some things that would ultimately be desirable in themselves create problems for us. For instance, for an unfallen, infinite being, perfect certainty is not only good, but is an essential component of knowledge. We would like to be perfectly certain about all of our beliefs (thus, certainty is a good goal in itself), but we recognize that such certainty in fallen and finite beings can create significant problems. And so humility and correctability in our believing is a good, but not an ultimate good; it is only good because of our limitations.

What happens when this proximate good is made into an ultimate good? Emergent.

Another example: religious freedom is not a good in itself. When our Lord establishes his Kingdom on the earth and reigns, religious freedom will be abolished, and this is a good thing. However, in a fallen world in which power often corrupts, most of us would prefer a society in which a variety of views are tolerated, even if the ultimate philosophical foundation for permitting multiple religions in the state is shaky.

Or consider theology. One advantage of modern communication technologies is a prodigious increase in the variety of theological positions to which one can be exposed. We are no longer bound to hear only those opinions of those around us (who are, most often, quite like us); we can listen to the theological musing of brothers in Christ from all over the world, and from ages ago. The accessibility of this theological diversity is a good inasmuch as exposure to positions not our own allows us to see our theological blind spots.

(Consider, along these lines, C. S. Lewis’s essay on the reading of old books.)

However, those of us with any sort of conservative theology see trouble lurking in this good. For instance, while a number of oppressed minority groups have, in their distinctive theologies, drawn attention to the liberation theme of the gospel, liberation theology (as a governing structure) is outside the bounds of orthodoxy. So while we might learn something from a theology not our own, we cannot accept this theology on a par with orthodoxy without disastrous consequences for the church and the gospel. The misguided step of making diversity in theology an ultimate good results in the sort of ecumenical dialogue that reduces all the world’s religions to a blank moralism.

How does this relate to the music debate? It seems to me (this is opinion) that some have made diversity in music a goal in itself. I will explain why I think this is so in a later post, but for now, I simply want to make the point that diversity does not carry its own justification; the examples above should show that, in many cases, even when diversity is desirable (because of our fallen condition), making diversity an end in itself creates serious problems.

Diversity can only be a good in itself if no style of music is better suited for worship of the Christian God than any other sort of music. This is, it seems to me, a very debatable claim (although I recognize that I am in an increasingly tiny minority on this point).

Note, here, however, that I’m not even suggesting which musical style might be better suited for worship. Let me advocate a position that is not my own, just for illustration’s sake. Let us suppose that the governing principle of choosing corporate worship music is that it allows people to worship using a culturally familiar idiom. If a person buys this argument (and many do), throwing a Bach motet or a big organy setting of “A Might Fortress” into the corporate worship, although such actions might be diverse (from the perspective of a church using contemporary worship music), they are not good. The Bach motet is so foreign to most people that (given the criteria), it just isn’t worth the work to that it would take to allow people from a different culture to own it.

Now, I have a very different set of principles for determining what is good in corporate worship. My point here is not what principles that we ought to have; rather, I am suggesting that if we have any principles at all, diversity is only a proximate good, and we cannot justify the inclusion of music into our services merely on the basis that it is diverse.

In the last post, we set forth the main points of the argument for diversity in worship (ADW). In this post, and perhaps in one or two more, I will point out what I think are significant weak points in ADW.

I note, first, that the two stated benefits of ADW are, in practice, inversely proportional to one another. By way of review, advocates of diverse worship tell us that it will do two things for us: it (1) allows us to worship in an authentic way, and (2) gives us opportunity to defer to other believers. But these two benefits will not exist for the same person at the same time. Think about this carefully: to the degree that I am worshiping “in my language,” I have no need to defer to others in the congregation. To the degree that I am deferring, I am not worshiping “in my language.”

Now, please understand that I don’t think that this observation is some sort of defeater for ADW; I note this simply because the advocates of ADW have created a “heads I win, tails you lose” scenario for their position. If we approve of a song, they can tell us that it’s great that we can worship in a idiom native to us. If we are uncomfortable with another song, they tell us that it’s great that we have opportunity to submit to other believers.

To clarify, I don’t believe that anyone intended to give ADW this sort of failproof justification; I’m not suggesting any sort of conspiracy here. I am, however, claiming that the no-lose situation created by ADW is a bit artificial and circular.

We could create a parallel argument for using non-diverse worship (and this can work for non-diverse progressive worship just as well as it would for non-diverse conservative worship): if you like what we’re doing, you’re worshiping in your native idiom, and if you don’t, it gives you an opportunity to learn to submit to spiritual authority in your life. For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t expect this sort of argument to gain much traction, only because Americans have an nearly inbred antagonism to hierarchical authority. The point is, authentic worship and submission to spiritual authorities are both counted as goods in Scripture; the fact that non-diverse worship can appeal to either (depending on a person’s response) doesn’t make non-diverse worship right.

Thus, the benefits that are said to accrue from diverse worship, I contend, are not sufficient to justify the practice. Again, I am not saying at this point that diversity in worship is wrong; in this post, I am only saying that the admirable goals of ADW do not justify it. In my next post, I will begin to address Kauflin’s arguments in support of diverse worship, which are, in my opinion, more compelling.

I’ve now encountered several times (most recently, in this sermon discussing Calvary Lansdale’s philosophy of music) an argument something like this: corporate worship must be diverse; that is, the styles and genres of music used by the church should reflect the wide-ranging tastes and backgrounds of those who have gathered to worship their Lord together. Such diversity, the argument continues, accomplishes at least two things (these are articulated in the sermon mentioned above).

First, a diversity of styles allows all people to worship authentically, because each person (in the course of a service, or perhaps over several services) will be presented with the opportunity to worship musically by means of a style that expresses his true voice.

Second, believers can learn to defer to one another, “in humility count[ing] others more significant than [them]selves” (Phil 2:3). The older believers, while not enjoying the music of the younger folks, can join with them in worship and thereby exercise humility; likewise, the younger can cheerfully demonstrate their love for their elders by joining with them in music that is not to their taste. In such a way, the whole body learns to “[submit] to one another out of reverence for Christ” (Eph 5:21).

I think we could all agree that both of these are laudable goals. Worship ought to be authentic, an expression of one’s redeemed heart, soul, and mind. Attempting to worship in a foreign idiom is like David battling Goliath in Saul’s armor.

Furthermore, I will certainly confess my need for greater humility and deference to others; having an opportunity to learn and express gracious love is a good thing.

It is my understanding that this argument from diversity was at least popularized by, if it did not originate with, Bob Kauflin. In Worship Matters, he offers several arguments in support of his contention that “music should display variety” (104–106).

The first is that using different styles is appropriate to “[reflect] God’s various attributes.” Kauflin asks us, rhetorically, “How can anyone think that a single kind of music could adequately express the fullness of God’s glory?”

The second is that differing styles “[enable] us to hear the same words with different effect.” He mentions here that most of our older hymns were written first and only later paired with tunes. Choosing different tunes and styles allows us to see the truths expressed in these texts different ways.

His third argument is that the use of different styles demonstrates that we “[recognize] God’s heart for all people.” He says, “Musical variety communicates God’s heart for all generations, cultures, and races. We don’t use different music because we want to keep everyone happy or because we’re aiming for a ‘blended’ service. It’s the gospel that blends us together, not music.”

He continues:

But in our rapidly shrinking world it’s even more important that we at least teach on the importance of this diversity. Christ’s command to take the gospel to the ends of the earth should inform and shape our theology of musical worship. It’s unwise and unbiblical to think that churches is Bolivia, Indonesia, Uganda, and elsewhere must conform to an American’s definition of ‘appropriate’ worship music.

To tip my hand a bit, I’m inclined to think that this third support is the one driving the diversity argument. However, my goal for today’s post is merely to introduce this argument, and to do so accurately. In my next few posts, I will offer some critical interaction with these ideas.