My response within a discussion for Dr. Gilson Waldkoenig’s Music and Culture class at the Lutheran Theologial Seminary at Gettysburg, about authenticity in worship:

On Authenticity in Worship: Are we being “Authentic” when we reach out to new kinds of music?

With all this talk of Authenticity, I had another idea…

______’s points are fantastic, and I have had very similar experiences… We have all taken part in an all-white service that was a bit jerky when moving to the beat of an African-American spiritual!…

But I wonder what is on the other side of that?… I know that my parents, for example, don’t cringe, as I do, when their organist launches into another rendition of some spiritual at dirge pace, with the intensity of Wagner on a bad day… They love it! And they love the contemporary services that put that gospel feel into the music that doesn’t really deserve it, and where it doesn’t quite belong!

Why do we white Swedes and other pales of European descent like singing African songs, African-American songs, as well as all kinds of other odd musics from around the world, etc?… I think there’s an element of praise sneaking back up on us from afar. We are creeping back towards those Great Awakening singings where people would faint and shout… But just a little… Not too much:)

Worship should be diverse — there should be two sides to the coin… There should be the liturgy/music that is comfortable, and that that is uncomfortable…, but exciting, and stimulating. Something that brings us back to calm, to home, to peace. And something that stirs up the waters!

We Lutherans tend to prefer the placid keyboard sound of Marty Haugen, and not the fiery sound of the steel drum worship band in NYC. We prefer just using the green and blue books, soon the ‘new’ red book, because it’s safe. It’s what the others are doing…

I think we should all stay safe. Wear our helmet… tie a rope around our waists… Make sure someone is spotting for us. And then jump! Knowing that we will come safely back home in a few minutes…

I teach German at the university here — and last week I, again, decided to pull a Robin Williams (you know, where he made the kids stand on their desks, and rip pages out of their books in Dead Poet’s Society…) — and I did the following:

I first scared the Dickens out of the students, by telling them how the test would be really really hard, but that the whole goal was learning — and if they learned on the test, they would ultimately be fulfilling my goals for them… And then I had these poor students, only 6 weeks into German 111, write 5 pages of essays, conjugate 20 verbs fully (enough to make any hand tired), along with several other ridiculously hard tasks… And, when they were all terrified of the results, and exhausted from the effort, I told them to rip up the test. And they did. Immediately, the tension was broken, and the room erupted in laughter and smiles. All of the students went home happy that evening.

It’s the same with our church body. We need to break that code that locks our wrists… ‘Shock’ people with something new (and terrifying), and watch them learn… They will be disgruntled, upset. ‘We’ll never do this again’ they say… And many churches won’t.

But we need to tear up the exam at that point. Let them leave with their pants on — tell them it was all a joke. It didn’t really hurt, now did it? It wasn’t for keeps — we don’t need to change forever… They will return to their comfort zone… But, each time the reistant congregation ventures out, it will be less afraid…

And each time, they can be reassured that the tradition is still there when they return… It’s like going away to camp — at first, the homesickness sets in, but soon, the joy of the woods takes over!

But eventually, there must be a place where tradition and modernity in liturgy meet. That’s what I’m working on finding in my own music:), and I think many others are as well…