We are in an emerging place as the Church - one can find liturgical communities that have big sound and talk about things like "production values" and then find a community once suspicious of the liturgy re-engaging with things like the mystery inhabited in the Eucharist on a regular basis. With this change come issues that we never thought we'd have to think about...like
what's up with the solos in worship?
This is certainly nothing new and not relegated to the electric guitar crowd. Growing up in my quasi-Baptist/ evangelical church, we often had people perform (ooo, can I say that?) during the offering or as a response to the message. (I remember thinking
who's response? but that's another story...) If you were cool, you called this "special music." If you were old school, it was called the "offertory." Now, worship bands move through the form of the song and every now and then, someone steps forward and takes a wailing solo over the chord changes. All in the name of ...worship?
This is a tough one. Certainly a complex one. And most definitely one that I feel a certain amount of emotional and intellectual energy about. I don't think - no, I
know - that there is no fabulously black and white answer on this, but it's such an interesting and necessary thing to talk about. Like everything else related to corporate worship, it boils down to the Big Why.
Here's the catch: aren't we all going to say that we do whatever we do in the worship gathering because it brings glory to GOD or some version of the same? Maybe that's part of our intention. Maybe it's not. How much manipulation can go into planning and executing a worship service before it becomes accidentlly dishonest?
This has been stewing in my head because of the new hip-ness of jazz in worship. There are churches and congregations that have been "doing" jazz influenced worship in truly authentic (musically and lyrically) ways for a long time, but it has certainly caught on as the new cool thing in big waves. I couldn't be more thrilled. I'm married to an amazingly talented and trained (and let's not leave out "full-time working"...yeah for getting bills paid) jazz piano player. It's definitely been the primary language in our home for the last ten years. Maybe that means I'm partial, but I think that jazz is one of the most honest, most incapable-of-fraud, and most representative of the
imago Dei than any other kind of mainstream music. It's very essence is about inter-dependence, beautiful ambiguity, and creative impulse. These are, coincidentally, at the essence of the Divine Trinity. It also means that any attempt to "make it work" can get sniffed out by most people.
This got me thinking about the solos in worship - instrumental and otherwise. My husband was asked recently about a new jazz/r&b service going on around town. He was tactfully trying to explain why he didn't want to go. When pressed about it, he finally answered: "many of those players in that group have been students of mine for the last few years and I've seen how hard they work to make it happen, how they work the nuts and bolts to manipulate the moment. Good people. Not my thing." That summed it up. No more questions - but it made me realize that there is something deeper and more spiritually-connected about these little moments and finer intentions. What is the point of soloing? To create a moment? Because it's the "right" musical choice? Because it somehow fits into our production values? or because it interprets the intention of the song in a deeper way than our voices alone can do?
Art is - or rather,
can be - the ministry of angels. It can speak, prophecy, confess, and lament on the behalf of souls that are sometimes fractured, sometimes disconnected, sometimes wordless with contentment and thanksgiving. How often do we settle for a counterfeit?
This calls us to think like jazz musicians - not necessarily to
be jazz musicians. As musicians and artists, it calls us to a higher level of interpretive ability and a certain kind of presence with the music that can't be manipulated or "produced." And as worship leaders, it calls us to reflect on the deeper intention of the songs we sing collectively and the beauty of intentionally open space in worship.
How can you best lead the people in intentional space? How can you guide them to reflect on the deeper themes inherent in note choice and dissonance? And maybe the first quest is to see if we can answer these things for ourselves. We are not artists because we make things; we are artists because of the language we speak and because we can speak for others. This is absolutely true inside of our worship crafting as well - and yes, even in something as seemingly small as solos.
Ultimately, it brings us back again and again to the Big Why. We are priests, stand-in-betweeners, and soul polyglots. What should be revealed in our worship is that kind of intentionality and purpose. And who knew that 8 bars could say so much?
Jodi-Renee Adams is a teacher, author, and visionary for community worship. She serves as a liturgy pastor and teaching pastor at
Ecclesia Denver, a new urban faith community.
Passionate about empowering artists and leaders to take their congregations beyond the Christian-culture box, Jodi is a contributor to CTI's FaithVisuals.com and GiftedforLeadership.com and speaks regularly on the convergence of post-church crisis, cultural issues and worship.
Jodi is currently completing her M.Div. at Denver Seminary and finishing her first book, which is due out next year. She and her jazzy husband, Justin, live in Denver with their three children: Sara, Anna-Michelle, and Leo, along with Karma the Wonder Dog.
You need to be a member of Creative Worship Tour to add comments!
Join Creative Worship Tour