Popular Culture And Congregational Song

Over the past generation, congregational song has been influenced by developments in popular music in an unprecedented way. This article describes this phenomenon and raises some important philosophical questions that arise out of it.

On a dimly lit stage, several musicians go through their routine of preparation. The pianist carefully arranges the music to be played so the transitions can be negotiated smoothly. The guitarists tune their instruments and check the volume controls. The percussionist insures that all parts of the trap set are in good working order. And the four singers—the lead singer and three back-up vocalists—go through sound-level checks. Within minutes the crowd will have gathered, and these musicians will begin a fifteen- or twenty-minute set of music that might be described as rhythmically energized, upbeat, and intended to promote a general feeling of enthusiasm among those in the audience. Indeed, audience participation is an important part of the agenda. In the prevailing format, the leader provides verbal introductions and transitions, at times sings—along with the back-up vocalists—to introduce a new selection, and coaxes the audience to ever-heightened levels of energized participation. And all the while, the instrumentalists lay down their accompanying riffs, lending support to the proceedings. The scene just described is neither a nightclub, a rock concert, nor a warm-up for a concert by a leading performer in that genre usually identified as Contemporary Christian. It is the beginning of a worship service. The time might be Sunday morning, Sunday evening, or even Saturday evening. The location could be Florida, Texas, Illinois, California, or any state. The denominational context might be Pentecostal, Baptist, Methodist, Lutheran, or a variety of others. The reality of the occurrence of scenes such as the one just described, the frequency of their occurrence, and the diversity of geographical locales and denominational contexts in which they occur make unnecessary the question, "Has popular culture—in its musical expressions—had any impact upon congregational song?" For anyone with an ear to hear or an eye to behold, the answer is emphatically, "yes!" Some of the pertinent questions that then emerge include:

1. Are there historical precedents for this phenomenon that has unfolded over the past three decades?

2. Are there substantive differences between contemporary reflections of popular culture in congregational song and the appearance of populist influences in congregational song in earlier eras? 3. What have been the principal sources or manifestations of the influence of the music of popular culture upon congregational song during this time period? 4. How has the content of hymnal compilations been affected by the new songs, choruses, and hymns produced by the movement? 5. How do we, as persons both interested in and concerned about the music of the congregation, respond? It is these questions that I shall attempt to address. But at the outset it is necessary to offer one caveat. The subject is too big and too complex for this article to be considered more than an introduction to it. Furthermore, opinions on the matter tend to be strong on both sides—those who argue vigorously for the value of the "music of the people" (as they describe the new songs influenced by popular music styles) and those who oppose them with equal vigor. In the course of this presentation I will attempt to be objective and allow my own personal biases to show as little as possible. The setting of texts for congregational song to music drawn from styles that might be described as "music for the people" rather than "high art" was not an invention of the mid-twentieth century. As Donald Hustad has pointed out, this practice has been almost normative for those periods in the history of the Christian church that could be described as times of renewal [Donald P. Hustad, Jubilate! Church Music in the Evangelical Tradition (Carol Stream, Ill.: Hope Publishing Company, 1981), 120]. It has been speculated that during the Arian controversies of the fourth century both orthodox and heretical groups used popular tunes as settings for their hymn texts to make them more attractive. The use of popular tunes from secular origins as one of the early sources for Lutheran chorale melodies has been well documented. Some of the tunes initially used for Wesleyan hymns were adaptations of popular songs and familiar operatic airs (Nelson F. Adams, "The Musical Sources for John Wesley's Tune-Books: The Genealogy of 148 Tunes" [New York: Unpublished D.S.M. dissertation, Union Theological Seminary, 1973]). The music of the nineteenth-century gospel song reflects not only the influence of the camp-meeting song, but also the stylistic traits of popular secular song of the time. (Indeed, some of the familiar Stephen Foster melodies were adapted as hymn tunes.) It has been the pattern of the church to assimilate the "new sounds" (at times begrudgingly) until, over a period of years, they have become part of the accepted "sacred" musical language. If the practice of drawing upon popular music, whether specific melodies or general styles, from the surrounding culture as a source of tunes for congregational song is not new, is there something about the use of this practice in the latter decades of the twentieth century that differentiates this period from earlier ones? There are a number of contemporary writers who would offer an emphatic "yes" to that question. The difference lies in the use and meaning of the term "popular culture," or "mass culture," as it is often called. One critic of popular culture has stated his case in this manner:

Mass culture [popular culture] is imposed from above. It is fabricated by technicians hired by businessmen; its audiences are passive consumers, their participation limited to the choice between buying and not buying [or, in our case, singing or not singing]. The lords of kitsch ["Kitsch, " a word derived from German that means "trash," is sometimes used by art critics as a pejorative reference to the aesthetic norms of popular culture], in short, exploit the cultural needs of the masses in order to make a profit [Dwight Macdonald, "A Theory of Mass Culture, " in Mass Culture: The Popular Arts in America, ed. Bernard Rosenberg and David Manning White. (Glencoe, Ill.: The Free Press, 1985), 60]

Here is another perspective, drawn from one of the manifestations of popular culture, the newspaper comic strips. The speaker is Calvin, the juvenile miscreant, who, along with his sometimes inanimately stuffed, sometimes alive companion, the tiger, Hobbes, are the central characters of "Calvin and Hobbes," drawn by Bill Watterson. In a frame that appeared recently, Calvin says: "But popular art knows the customer is always right! People want more of what they already know they like, so popular art gives it to 'em!" The above two perspectives represent some of the arguments presented by proponents of the thesis that today's popular culture as it relates to the church does, indeed, differ from the way in which the church has been influenced by "popular" elements from the surrounding culture in past eras. The first view speaks for those persons who consider that today's popular culture has been manufactured and imposed upon an unwitting populace by business enterprises interested solely in their own gain. From its perception, the "recipients" of popular culture have little choice in the matter; they simply receive passively what the purveyors of popular culture have decided they should accept. The second view is representative of the notion that popular culture is a phenomenon driven by consumer tastes. As Calvin says, "people want more of what they already know they like," so the market responds to the broadest prevailing taste and gives the people what they want. In both of the perspectives just presented, the emphasis is upon consumer-producer relationships as the primary determinant of popular culture, even in its expressions in artistic realms. In earlier eras, the proponents of both perspectives would contend, the prevailing culture of the people was more "honest" or "authentic"—less determined by the power of consumerism in an affluent society. On the other hand, there are those who would argue passionately that culture embraces the sum total of those factors of human environment that influence human existence. Therefore, in a commercialized, technological society, technology and commercialization join other factors—on an equal footing and without bias—in shaping culture. Hence, popular music today is still the "music of the people"—because the people allow it to be so. The issues are complex—far more so than can be explored in this article. So, for the moment, we shall leave this thorny question unresolved. (See Kenneth A. Myers, All God's Children and Blue Suede Shoes: Christians and Popular Culture [Westchester, Ill.: Crossway Books, 1989].) Let us instead explore the sources and manifestations of popular culture in congregational song, as they have been expressed over the past three decades. Let me try an analogy. Consider the broad field of congregational song influenced by popular culture as a river—an ever-expanding river fed by many streams or tributaries. These streams will represent the diverse genres in which the music of popular culture has influenced the music of the church, particularly in congregational song. If American pop-influenced congregational song can be considered such a river, its fountainhead might be traced, not to developments in this country, but to the experiments of Geoffrey Beaumont and the 20th Century Church Light Music Group in England during the late 1950s and early 1960s. The publication and promotion by Paxton Music, Ltd. and Josef Weinberger, Ltd. of hymn tunes by Beaumont, other members of the Light Music Group, and Malcolm Williamson assisted in their gaining popularity, and some notoriety, rather quickly. The performance instructions that appeared with many of these tunes suggested their stylistic origins. Placed above the opening measures were phrases such as "with a lilt," "with a beat," "waltz time," "blues tempo," and "medium rock." The tunes were written for unison singing with piano accompaniment. The musical style was imitative of stage musicals and more conservative popular music from earlier in the twentieth century. The primary approach of both Geoffrey Beaumont and Malcolm Williamson was to write new tunes for traditional texts. Other members of the Light Music Group wrote both texts and tunes. The most widely used tune to come from this group of composers was Beaumont's "Gracias," which was paired with Catherine Winkworth's translation of Martin Rinkart's "Nun danket alle Gott." In the United States, this combination of text and tune was included in the Hymnbook for Christian Worship, jointly published in 1970 by the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) and the American Baptist Convention. The hymn tunes of Geoffrey Beaumont and his British contemporaries did not gain wide acceptance in this country, but their innovations were mirrored by several developments in America. Because the American developments were in many ways inter-related, it will be more useful to consider them categorically rather than chronologically. With the nation's increased "youth consciousness" of the 1960s came a deluge of music for Christian young people that, in broad categorization, might be classified as "folk-pop." Encompassing a variety of substyles, all of which would fit comfortably under that umbrella label, folk-pop (or "Christian pop," as it was sometimes called) became the intended musical panacea for curing youth's disenchantment or boredom—take your pick—with the church. It was sung in liturgical settings, in evangelical churches, and at informal religious gatherings, particularly those associated with various expressions of the "Jesus Movement." We shall return to its liturgical use later, particularly in relation to the Roman Catholic church, but for now I will focus on the renewal of interest in chorus singing. This product of YMCA and Youth for Christ gatherings had never completely faded into disuse; it was perpetuated by use at campfire devotionals and "singspirations." But in the 1960s the practice was rediscovered with new fervor, and there began the production of a stream of new "teenie hymns," as my colleague Don Hustad calls them, that continues to this day. They soon came to be known as "praise choruses," although the subject matter was seldom restricted to that aspect of Christian faith and worship. Of course, the more formal evangelical churches, as well as the liturgical ones, had long had their "praise choruses." They called them "Doxology" and "Gloria Patri." But the new "praise choruses" were in a different style, usually combining short, simple texts with easily remembered, singable melodies in one of the prevailing folk-pop styles. Many of those early texts have been criticized—and in some cases justifiably so—for both their superficiality and self-centeredness. But those traits were not new to the "praise chorus." Have you discovered the following text, cited by Henry Wilder Foote in his Three Centuries of American Hymnody, which purportedly was sung in nineteenth-century America?

The bells of hell go ting-a-ling-a-ling

For you, but not for me. The blessed angels sing-a-ling-a-ling Through all eternity. O death, where is thy sting-a-ling-a-ling? O grave, thy victory? No ting-a-ling-a-ling, no sting-a-ling-a-ling, But sing-a-ling-a-ling for me [Henry Wilder Foote, Three Centuries of American Hymnody (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1940), 269]. Superficiality and self-centeredness, indeed! The chorus genre proved to be particularly suited to the needs of the charismatic movement and youth organizations such as Campus Crusade for Christ. At first, the choruses were published in paperback collections produced by both denominational and commercial music publishers. Maranatha! Music, in particular, brought into print a number of choruses that were to become popular far beyond charismatic circles. But in recent years they have made their way into hymnals intended to have a longer life span, and so form one of those streams that feed the river of pop-influenced congregational song today. Relatively few of the first generation of folk-pop choruses survived—a commentary, perhaps, upon the ephemeral, transitory nature of the form. However, the second generation is well represented in recent hymnal compilations. Many of these second-generation choruses are less "folksy" than their ancestors; certainly, many of them do not lend themselves easily to accompaniment only by acoustical guitar. One of the most popular of the new choruses is "Majesty," written by Jack Hayford in 1977. It first appeared in a hymnal in 1986 in The Hymnal for Worship and Celebration. In addition to its several hymnal appearances, for the past year and a half it has held the number-one position in the "Top Twenty-Five Songs" listing compiled from the biannual surveys conducted by Christian Copyright Licensing, Inc. If the praise choruses were the most ubiquitous aspect of the folk-pop movement, the youth musicals—the second stream of influence—rivaled them in popularity. Evangelical and mainline churches that had been suspicious of the folk-pop idiom and the jazz idiom when they were used to set liturgical texts suddenly welcomed the same idioms with open arms when they appeared in musico-dramatic form—or at least some of them did. The rapid growth in enrollment in youth choirs, including the recruitment of teenagers who had not previously been active in church life, provided a compelling argument for allowing the new styles into the church, to the dismay of some persons from the more conservative older generations. The youth musicals did not yield an extensive body of materials that eventually made their way into congregational use, but there were a few notable examples. The genre was primarily choral and soloistic, but in some of the musicals the congregation was given an opportunity to participate, usually near the end. One of the more attractive new tunes to emerge from this source was "Tabernacle," written by Phillip Landgrave for the conclusion of his youth musical Purpose, composed in 1968. Taking his cue from the practice of Geoffrey Beaumont and his contemporaries of writing new tunes in pop style for traditional texts, Landgrave wrote "Tabernacle" as a setting for "Just As I Am" by Charlotte Elliott. What was to become the most widely used congregational song to come from the youth musical genre appeared the following year, 1969, in Tell It Like It Is, a musical written by Ralph Carmichael and Kurt Kaiser. Kaiser's "Pass It On" not only appeared in six of the hymnals surveyed for the "Selected List of Illustrative Hymns and Choruses" that follows this article, but I know of at least four other hymnals not included in the survey in which it is included, as well as numerous paperback collections. A third tributary that has supplied our ever growing waterway of pop-influenced congregational song with new materials is African-American gospel music. The roots of this genre extend back into the late nineteenth century, but its initial popularization occurred in the 1920s with the work of Thomas A. Dorsey, often called the "Father of Gospel Music." Whereas the stylistic origins of most of the tunes that emerged from the British experiments, the praise choruses, and the youth musicals can be traced to stage musicals, various styles of mid-century popular music, and imitations of folk music, black gospel music has for its heritage the blues. In an article that appeared in the Spring 1989 issue of The Journal of Black Sacred Music, Jeremiah Wright suggested that Dorsey "brought into the gospel idiom the chord progressions and rhythmic syncopations of blues. Not only did he attempt to bring the music of the secular stage into the sacred sanctuary, he also brought an instrumental style that flew in the face of everything 'trained' musicians had been taught to revere" (Jeremiah A. Wright, Jr., "Music as Cultural Expression in Black Church Theology and Worship," The Journal of Black Sacred Music 3:1 [Spring 1989]: 4). Though Dorsey's music initially faced opposition in affluent black congregations, it has endured. One of his songs, "Precious Lord, Take My Hand," which for years has been a staple of paperback collections of choruses, has been included in several recently published hymnals. The most widely sung composer of gospel music over the past two decades has been Andrae Crouch. His more than three hundred songs, which represent a variety of styles in addition to black gospel, have brought him several Grammy and Dove awards (Paul A. Richardson, "Crouch, Andrae," in Handbook to the Baptist Hymnal [Nashville, Tenn.: Convention Press, 1992], 323). (Parenthetically, it is worth noting that the existence of categories for popular Christian music in the Grammy competition and the creation of a set of awards solely for the Contemporary Christian recording industry may be considered symptoms of the way in which at least one aspect of sacred music has been influenced by popular culture.) Indicative of Crouch's impact upon trends in congregational song is the fact that five of his songs are included in the "Selected List of Illustrative Hymns and Choruses," a collection that represents those selections most widely published in hymnals over the past seventeen years. Crouch's most frequently published and recorded song is "My Tribute," but his style of gospel music is better represented by "Soon and Very Soon," which seems to be catching up with "My Tribute" in popularity. As noted above, contemporary African-American gospel music has come to be considered one of the branches of the Contemporary Christian industry, so it is appropriate to look at that phenomenon in its broader expression as yet another source that feeds pop-influenced congregational song today. The branch of the recording industry specializing in Contemporary Christian music and the proliferation of radio stations that have adopted that format almost exclusively have combined to form one of the most, if not the most, pervasive influences upon the musical tastes of church-attending young people over the past two decades. The ubiquitous presence of the "Contemporary Christian sound" in homes, over car radios, over the sound systems in Christian bookstores, and in churches has, by sheer weight of frequency, molded the listening and singing tastes of teenagers and many young collegians. The appearance of these sounds in churches in recent years reflects both the desire of church members to appeal to youth and young adults and the collective impact of two decades of the influence of this musical style. Remember, the young people who sang those folk musicals and choruses in the 1960s and 1970s are today's young adults, many of whom are approaching middle-age status. It is not surprising, then, that many of the songs that have been made popular by Amy Grant, David Meece, Twila Paris, Michael W. Smith, Sandi Patti, and Dottie Rambo, along with a host of others, are now beginning to find their way into hymnal collections that include both hymns and choruses. For most of the songs in this genre, it is the choruses that have been claimed as vehicles for congregational singing. And, in truth, many of the Contemporary Christian songs consist of several repetitions of chorus-like material. In the "Selected List of Illustrative Hymns and Choruses" there appear six songs in this category written since 1980, and there are several others listed which appeared before that date. The list includes a variety of substyles within the genre, but it would not be particularly helpful at this time to pursue the subtleties of differentiation. There is one body of material—of the stream, to remain faithful to my analogy—which I have some difficulty categorizing stylistically. The commercialization with which it has been promoted places it within the umbrella of the overall topic that this article addresses, but in terms of musical style it does not fit convincingly. Musically, it seems to be a continuation of the line established by the late nineteenth- and early twentieth-century gospel song. Therefore, I shall label this genre the "contemporary gospel song." Its primary progenitor around mid-century was John W. Peterson, but the most prolific and influential proponents of this style since that time have been William J. and Gloria Gaither. Though in recent years the Gaithers have moved toward a style that would fit within the Contemporary Christian umbrella, most of their songs that appear in current hymnals date from the 1960s and early 1970s and resemble earlier gospel songs more than those of the folk-pop styles. It is now time to return to that body of material to which allusion was made earlier—music written for the Roman Catholic worship tradition. Soon after the dissemination of the Second Vatican Council's Sacrosanctum Concilium (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy) in 1963, American parishes were flooded with both settings of the liturgy and congregational songs in the folk-pop idiom. "Michael, Row the Boat Ashore," "Kum Ba Yah," "Blowin' in the Wind," and other similar songs were claimed by American Catholics as their own as they found their collective voices—to the delight of many and the dismay of others. It was not long before new songs written specifically for the Catholic community were appearing in print. Missalettes published with the intent of having a short lifespan fed the collective appetite for a continuing supply of new materials, and published collections of hymns in the new folk-pop style proliferated. One of those early songs, "They'll Know We Are Christians by Our Love," written by Peter Scholtes in 1966, rather quickly gained widespread popularity extending far beyond Catholic circles. It has subsequently appeared in a few hymnals outside that tradition, and would probably have been included in more if some hymnal editors had not experienced difficulties in negotiating copyright clearance for its use. A second generation of Catholic composers of hymns and songs in the diverse substyles of the folk-pop idiom has continued to supply Catholic congregations with an abundance of new materials. Bob Dufford, Dan Schutte, Michael Joncas, and Marty Haugen have been among those composers whose songs have been particularly well-received. There has been one somewhat curious feature of the use of the folk-pop idioms in the Catholic tradition—it has been rather self-contained, at least on the basis of materials included in hymnal compilations. The only Catholic hymnal that I have found to contain materials from the broader ecumenical expression of folk-pop idioms in congregational song to any noticeable degree is Lead Me, Guide Me, the African-American Catholic hymnal published in 1987. That collection, not surprisingly, includes several songs by Andrae Crouch, but it also contains selections by Kurt Kaiser and the Gaithers. The third edition of Worship, published in 1986 by GIA Publications, included Karen Lafferty's chorus, "Seek Ye First the Kingdom of God," first published by Maranatha! Music in 1972. Conversely, until the release of Hymnal: A Worship Book (1992) there had been very limited appearance of materials in popular styles written by composers of music for Catholic congregations in hymnals outside that tradition, with the exception of "They'll Know We Are Christians by Our Love," mentioned earlier. An "Amen" by Marty Haugen and "Here I Am, Lord" by Dan Schutte were included in the 1990 Presbyterian Hymnal. The only songs to make multiple appearances are Schutte's "Here I Am, Lord," which also appeared in The United Methodist Hymnal published in 1989, and "On Eagle's Wings" by Michael Joncas, which appears in The United Methodist Hymnal and in The Baptist Hymnal of 1991. In contrast, Hymnal: A Worship Book, a joint publication of Brethren Press, Faith and Life Press, and the Mennonite Publishing House, has thirteen hymns or songs by six different contemporary Catholic composers in the various folk-pop styles, including six by Marty Haugen. Having surveyed the primary sources of congregational song influenced by popular music culture, it is now appropriate to look at their assimilation, or lack thereof, into published hymnals. There have been a variety of approaches. Two hymnals—the 1978 Lutheran Book of Worship and Rejoice in the Lord, published in 1985 by the Reformed Church in America—ignored this style of congregational song entirely. The Hymnal 1982, published for the Episcopal Church, included Karen Lafferty's chorus, "Seek Ye First the Kingdom of God," and "I Am the Bread of Life" by Suzanne Toolan. The Presbyterian Hymnal: Hymns, Psalms, and Spiritual Songs, published in 1990, contains seven selections by composers who wrote in the popular music styles, and the 1987 Psalter Hymnal of the Christian Reformed Church in North America has fourteen, including three by Andrae Crouch. Among denominational hymnals published in recent years that I have surveyed, the two which reflect most extensively the impact of popular music are The United Methodist Hymnal of 1989 and The Baptist Hymnal of 1991, with the latter collection having the largest number of entries. The Worshiping Church, published by Hope Publishing Company in 1990, contains a similar proportion of music from the various streams influenced by popular song as The Baptist Hymnal. Among all recently published hymnals, the two which most reflect the influence of the recent trends are The Hymnal for Worship and Celebration, published by Word Music in 1986, and Worship His Majesty, published by the Gaither Music Company in 1987. If one discounts the preponderance of songs by William J. Gaither in the latter collection (a total of 46), then The Hymnal for Worship and Celebration is clearly the hymnal most representative of the diverse expressions of popular music style in congregational song. Of the 628 musical selections in the hymnal, 99 were classified by the author of a recent thesis devoted to this hymnal as fitting into the broad outlines of popular music style (Judy Marlene Flathers, "An Analytical Study of Contemporary Christian Music in The Hymnal for Worship and Celebration (Word Music, 1986)" [Seattle: Unpublished M.A. thesis, Seattle Pacific University, 1988)]. Is there any significance to the fact that this hymnal, without a specific denominational constituency to promote it, recently passed the two million mark in number of copies sold? Among hymnals published to serve the needs of a Roman Catholic constituency, the third edition of Worship retained that publication's pattern of utilizing traditional hymnody. However, that 1986 edition contains two selections by Marty Haugen, including his increasingly popular "Gather Us In." Two hymnals produced for Catholic worship which strongly emphasize materials in the folk-pop idioms are Gather, a joint collaboration of GIA and North American Liturgy Resources published in 1988, and the various editions of Glory and Praise published by North American Liturgy Resources, the most recent of which was issued in 1990. The sources have been surveyed, the impact upon hymnal compilation has been quickly scanned, and the question that now remains is, "So what?" How do persons whose lives are deeply invested in the music of the church, and particularly in the congregational music of the church, respond? The pattern has often been to respond at one of two extremes—either an abject rejection and denunciation of pop-influenced church music as being totally unworthy of the high calling of worship or an unquestioning acceptance of it as the new wine of musical expression for the needs of the contemporary church. Following are a few examples. Rather soon after the introduction of the folk-pop idioms into Catholic liturgy, one observer wrote:

In the name of the "People of God," the amorphous mass of Catholic humanity for whom, ostensibly, the liturgists commit their Puritanical depredations, we have now been reduced to a non-community of non-singers performing non-music. We have made two artistic compromises in our church music: we have tried cheap vernacular settings of Mass texts and vernacular hymns; and we have tried, in the name of youth, rock and folk music. Both compromises have been found invalid, because both have failed as the vaunted panacea for our musical and liturgical woes (Ralph Thibodeau, "Threnody for Sacred Music, or The People of God Have Been Had," Commonweal, Dec. 13, 1968. Reprinted in Church Music 69:2, p. 14).

Do you remember that critique of popular culture presented earlier that suggested that it is something imposed upon passive consumers by commercial interests? It is echoed in this excerpt from Thomas Day's Why Catholics Can't Sing:

The congregation at St. Wil's [a fictitious parish created by Day to illustrate his concerns], most of the time, is only permitted to hear or sing famous contemporary music by famous composers and famous groups.…

St. Wilbur Catholics have been trained to live lives of obedient, unquestioning consumers. Society teaches them that the latest contemporary product will give them powers and freedoms that their parents never knew. The media guarantees, absolutely, that, if you buy the latest designer jeans, modeled by beautiful and skinny youths, you too will become beautiful and skinny. If you sing the latest designer songs, you too will attain the same level of piety attained by the designer composers. Today's designer song can quickly become yesterday's passing fad. [Thomas Day, Why Catholics Can't Sing (New York: Crossroad, 1990), 77.] Contrast that perspective with this retrospective evaluation of those same developments that appeared in an issue of Pastoral Music in 1990: "The strongest positive influence on sung participation from American culture was the introduction of the folk idiom into worship." [Lawrence J. Madden, "Is the Folk Mass America's Only Contribution to Liturgy?" Pastoral Music 14:4 (April–May 1990): 54.] At times the embracing of church music styles strongly influenced by models from popular music is accompanied by the exclusion of more traditional styles. A recent article in The Wall Street Journal quoted the pastor of a large church in Southern California who referred to pipe organs, traditional hymns, and the music of the classicists as "passé" [R. Gustav Niebuhr, "So It Isn't Rock of Ages, It Is Rock, and Many Love It," The Wall Street Journal, Thursday, December 19, 1991]. That same article estimated that approximately one thousand Lutheran churches had taken up contemporary songs and instruments over the past three years. In contrast to these samplings of strongly polarized opinions, in recent years more moderating views have been sounded by persons trying to move beyond responses based upon liking or disliking or evaluating the new idioms primarily on the basis of aestheticism on one hand or pragmatism on the other. Such developments are welcome. An insightful article by Paul Westermeyer that sought to explore the issues from a balanced perspective appeared last March in The Christian Century (Paul Westermeyer, "Beyond 'Alternative' and 'Traditional' Worship," The Christian Century [March 18–25, 1992]: 300-302). It is time for us to wrestle with the theological issues inherent in the matter. For example, what does an incarnational theology have to say about the way the church uses familiar cultural forms to communicate important matters of faith? Or what does our understanding of creation and creativity say to us about the restrictedness or inclusiveness of the ways in which persons express their creative impulses within the church as one reflection of imago Dei? And how does making music in church reflect our understanding of offering or sacrifice? Is it possible that in order to symbolize musically the paradox of a God who is both transcendent and immanent, we need both the traditional, more "classical" congregational song and the accessible, familiar "music of the people"? These are representative of some of the questions that we need to be asking as we decide what we are to do with elements of the music of popular culture in our congregational song. They are far more important than "Do I like this music?" or "Do I dislike it?" May the reflections, discussions, and wrestling continue!