This year
marks the 500th anniversary of the Protestant Reformation, and esteem
for Martin Luther, John Calvin, and the other Reformers is freshly in
the air. But as much as we continue to esteem their theological legacy,
many might find it surprising to learn how different some of their views
were compared to the typical evangelical today.
Calvin
on church music is no exception. The Genevan reformer restricted texts
sung in church meetings to the Psalms, plus a few other biblical
passages, and the Apostles’ Creed. He banned musical instruments from
congregational praise, arguing that they were part of the ceremonial law
given to Israel. If Calvin walked into an evangelical service today, he
might make a beeline for the door, before he even reached the coffee
bar, in an attempt to escape the sound of reverb-drenched guitar and
pounding drums.
Can
modern evangelicals learn anything from this sixteenth-century Frenchman
whose views on music seem so extreme in our day? How do our indie rock
bands, newly composed hymns, video screens, and lights relate to
Calvin’s theology of corporate worship?
Even if
we don’t adopt all his conclusions, Calvin’s theology of singing is a
timeless source of instruction for us. As we prepare our hearts to sing
God’s praises with his people, here are three of his insights worth
special consideration.
1. Music Can Lead Us Astray
Calvin understood that “our nature inclines toward idolatry” (Institutes,
1.11.3). Each person’s heart is “a perpetual factory of idols”
(1.11.7). “Our nature draws and induces us to look for all manner of
demented and vicious rejoicing” (“Preface to the Psalter” in
Writings on Pastoral Piety,
95). Calvin noticed how music can all too easily lead our minds and
hearts toward idolatry. Music, he said, “has a secret and almost
incredible power to arouse hearts in one way or another” (“Preface to
the Psalter,” 95).
Calvin’s
right. We can become infatuated with the emotional high of singing
instead of relishing the splendor of our Savior. We can marvel more at
the skills of the musicians than the majesty of our Maker. All too
subtly, we can begin to delight more in the praise we offer to God than
the praiseworthiness of God.
Calvin’s war against any hint of idolatry calls us to examine our own hearts. Why do we sing on Sunday morning?
What do we hope to “get out” of church? Do I find my joy in Jesus and
his gospel, or merely in an emotional experience? We should repent of
singing for mere comfort and self-satisfaction, and seek the larger joys
which have their source in God alone.
2. Music Can Stir Us for God
Calvin
was cautious of idolatry, but he was no killjoy. He opted for a simple
congregational musical expression not because he opposed art and beauty,
but because he respected the power of music as a God-given force for
good.
Ever
aware of the “indolence” and “ingratitude” of our hearts, he knew that
we need a “stimulus” to fan the flames of godly affection (Commentary on the Book of Psalms,
33). “Song has great force and vigor to arouse and inflame people’s
hearts to invoke and praise God with a more vehement and ardent zeal”
(“Preface to the Psalter,” 94).
Such an
insight should sound refreshing to our ears. Too often, even if
unconsciously, we have operated according to the mantra, “I’m so happy, therefore I’ll praise God!” Calvin would have us respond, “I’ll praise God, so that I can be truly happy in him.”
Brothers
and sisters facing persecution, pain, doubt, and depression may not
feel like singing when Sunday morning shows up. But Calvin reminds us
that God has given us music to stir our affections. Congregational song
connects the wires of God’s truth to our depleted hearts and revives us
in seasons of coldness.
I always
encourage struggling saints to sing, even if their voice feels faint.
Singing in faith is a declaration of truth, but it’s also a plea that
the Spirit would make the truth more vivid to our hearts.
3. God Gave Us Songs to Sing
Calvin
not only cherished the emotion-stirring force of music. He was also
jealous for his congregation to sing the best lyrical content. For that,
he turned to the Bible’s inspired hymnal: the Psalms. The Christian who
masters the Psalms, Calvin taught, has mastered “celestial doctrine”
(“Preface to the Commentary on the Psalms” in Writings, 56).
Calvin
called the Psalter “an anatomy of all the parts of the soul” because it
depicts the righteous man addressing God from every possible emotional
state (“Preface to the Commentary on the Psalms,” 56). Calvin argued
that the Psalms “frame our life to every part of holiness, piety, and
righteousness” and “principally teach and train us to bear the cross”
(“Preface to the Commentary on the Psalms,” 58).
Given
his high view of the Psalms, it’s no surprise that Calvin leveraged
music to make his congregation a Psalms-saturated people. Every song was
a mnemonic device that embedded the theology of the Psalms into the
hearts of believers. Do songs we’ve memorized give us an equally robust
theological foundation? Do our prayers and praises bear the fragrance of
the rich theology and emotional tapestry of the Psalms?
Jumpstart Your Joy
Like any
good gift from above, music — even church music — can become an idol if
we cherish the gift more than the Giver. But the beauty of God’s gifts
is that they point us beyond the gifts themselves to God’s glorious
mercy and grace for sinners. Our songs should stir our hearts to worship
in all seasons of life, just as the Psalms so beautifully express.
Music on
a Sunday morning exists to awaken our hearts out of their weeklong
stupor and jumpstart our joy in Jesus. In all the joyful noise rising up
from the saints, don’t miss out on the only One who matters. The
melodies of our music, the volume of our voices, and the power of our
praise mean very little unless our songs crescendo with joy in him.
