I am a Christian, and I do not like Christian music. (Blasphemy, I know.)
It’s not that I have a problem with singing about God, or singing
to God—I don’t sit silently with arms crossed during Sunday
worship. It’s just that every time I’m scanning the radio
and stumble upon WGOD FM, I’d rather listen to a play-by-play broadcast
of the National Scrabble Tournament.
I’d better define Christian music before I start demeaning it.
By Christian music I don’t mean worship music. Sunday hymns are
not written for the pleasure of churchgoers, they’re written for
churchgoers to give pleasure to God. By Christian music I mean the “Gospel
/ Religious” section at Best Buy—music played on the radio
and sold to consumers for personal enjoyment. Dubbed Contemporary Christian
Music—CCM—this music is supposed to represent a healthy,
godly alternative to heathen noise of MTV and Top 40 radio. But CCM’s
problem is that it doesn’t provide enough of an alternative.
Beneath its offensive layers of exaggerated stereotypes, Southpark
often provides insightful social commentary. In the ironically titled
episode “Christian Rock Hard,” Cartmen and friends show
that the recipe for Christian Rock is anything but hard. Step 1: Choose
any Billboard Top 10 single. Step 2: Remove every “baby,”
and “you.” Step 3: Replace with “God,” and “Jesus.”
Result: Platinum selling CCM record. Granted, Trey Parker and Matt Stone
present an obviously exaggerated picture of the Christian recording
industry, but beneath the layers of sarcasm and stereotype lies a valid
criticism. At best, Christian rock parallels the sound of secular pop/rock.
At worst, it outright copies it.
Although the method for producing Christian rock is not as simplistic
and derivative as that presented by the Southpark gang—bands probably
aren’t crouching in backstage closets, taking erasers to a Sting
lyric sheet—the end product is not dissimilar from the Cartmen-fronted
Faith+1. Contemporary Christian Music seems to coast in the
wake of established secular trends in music. First came Creed, with
its heavy, soaring guitar riffs and deep-voiced, vaguely spiritual anthems.
Then came Kutless, with its heavy, soaring guitar riffs and deep-voiced,
explicitly spiritual anthems.
However, I don’t think the apparent trend-catching of CCM music
is a result of artistic insincerity. Christian bands don’t begin
with four guys sitting on a basement couch, pledging to “sound
just like Creed, only this time with lyrics that actually say Jesus,
not just vague allusions.” But when an unsigned Christian band
happens to have a near-identical sound to the top band on the Billboard
Hot 100, you can bet your iPod that the band will be signed to a CCM
label within a month. Most Christian artists are sincere in making original
music. But the Christian music labels’ mindset in contracts, production
and promotion seems to churn out album after album that sounds suspiciously
similar to whichever band is currently standing in TRL’s Times
Square window. CCM natural selection ensures the survival of the trendiest.
I walked into my church youth group room, sometime in early adolescence,
and saw a guest speaker, plugging his laptop into a projector—always
a good sign, to any teenage mind.
“Name your favorite band.” The energetic man began, launching
into what resembled more infomercials than sermons.
“Have you guys actually listened to what’s on the radio
these days? [dramatic, salesman pause] I mean, not just dancing
in your car at the stoplight, but actually paying attention to what
that rapper is saying? It’s all drug-dealing and woman-abusing.
Without the bass line, it’s sexual harassment! Now, the real question
is, why are you paying thirteen dollars and ninety-five cents to a womanizer
who just happens to speak over a danceable beat?”
Time for the Ron Popeil sales pitch: “What if I told you that
for the same thirteen dollars and ninety-five cents, you could support
an artist who, instead of degrading woman, honors God? AND ALL OVER
THE SAME DANCABLE BEAT!”
The speaker then passed out his trump card—an alphabetical list
of the 100 most popular secular artists of the day. And listed beside
each of the hot hundred was the Christian equivalent. It was a CCM sound-alike
menu. “Love Blink-182 but hate the blasphemy? Try a taste
of Reliant-K for the same punk-playfulness plus your recommended daily
allowance of God-honoring invocations!”
Not only did this sermon reinforce CCM’s obsession with mirroring
popular secular style, it also clarified the Christian music industry’s
system of musical values. Contemporary Christian music molds its music
into the form of the secular and injects a faith-based message. Since
there is little difference in the music, the only reason to choose Christian
over secular is the message. The identical harmonies of Christian music
imply that the true value of the music is in its God-centered lyrics.
Yet, placing all the value in the message robs all the value of the
music, relegating it to a mere system of delivery.
The specific type of music CCM chooses to model reinforces this image.
Pop music is, well, popular. Pop music reaches more people than Brazilian
funk, and the goal of CCM is to transmit its message to the largest
audience. The Christian music industry chooses its model not for its
musical creativity but for its mass appeal. But is there really anything
wrong with transmitting religious beliefs via music? By rejecting Christian
music, am I rejecting its message of the gospel?
I have no problem with the message; I have a problem with the relationship
between the message and the music. By implying that the sole value of
Christian music is God-centered lyrics and reducing the music to a mere
delivery system, the Christian recording industry simultaneously dismisses
the aesthetic value of the music and undercuts the authenticity of the
message. To sing about the glory of God and his creation while neglecting
to fully express our capacity for beauty is a disservice to the very
message being proclaimed. Instead, the passion for music should match
the passion for the message. Music should be viewed not as a Jesus infomercial
but as an opportunity to experience the full beauty of God’s creation.
CCM emphasizes message, message, message—but it does so at the
expense of creativity, originality, and emotional authenticity.
When I pull on my headphones, I want to experience music at its full
creative potential. I have stepped outside the message-driven confines
of Christian Contemporary Music and into the world of the secular. Is
my music at odds with my faith?
I’ve met many Christians who refuse to listen to secular music.
To them, if it doesn’t proclaim a Christian worldview, and if
the artist doesn’t set out with the express purpose of honoring
God, then the music is devoid of value. But God gave us the ability
to create, enjoy, and appreciate beauty. By experiencing the aesthetic
value of music, we can honor God, who gave us the capacity to produce
such music. When I fully experience the organic beauty of Sigur Rós,
I feel I can worship God as deeply as when I sing Amazing Grace on a
Sunday morning.
Even if there is some aesthetic value in the music, is this not outweighed
by the content of the message? By definition, secular artists don’t
sing from a Christian perspective. But even if I disagree with the message,
there is still value in experiencing it. Novels, paintings, poetry,
and songs—all great art provides not just a glimpse into the artist’s
world, but an experience of how he sees the world; and temporarily inhabiting
another’s worldview, through its contrast, can clarify my worldview.
Listening to The Hold Steady’s sung sagas of Hoodrats and addicts
grasping for redemption, provokes me to examine my search for redemption
and the faith in which I find it. Granted, within the worldviews of
secular music there is a wide range of complexity and nuance. Some artists,
as Christians often note, preach lifestyles that are empty and devoid
of meaning. But to dismiss the entirety of secular music, in all its
diversity and variety, because of Britney Spears’ vacuous lyrics,
is like dismissing Pride and Prejudice because of Paris Hilton: Confessions
of an Heiress.
Not to say that all secular music is inherently better than Christian
music. If I had to choose between MTV and CCM, I’d take Christian
rock every time—better unoriginal music with a noble message than
manufactured music with the sole purpose of making money. But the world
of secular music is extremely diverse. If you are willing to explore
this diversity, you can find artists who, instead of using music as
a means, actually treat their music as art. In the past few years, I’ve
looked beyond Christian Contemporary, beyond radio and found music that
is sonically inventive, risk-taking, original, creative, and emotionally
authentic. In short, I found what is lacking in Christian music—artists
who present honest, personal, thought-provoking messages matched with
a passion for exploring the aesthetic potential of music.
Ironically, my choice of Indie rock has led me back to the Christian
music I originally renounced. Once I really got into Indie—The
Arcade Fire and Pavement, Broken Social Scene and Wilco—I realized
Christian Contemporary did not compare. CCM lacks the same passionate,
creative music and personally authentic emotion. I had decided that
Christian artists were no longer worth listening to when, browsing music
reviews on a secular, CCM-hating website, I stumbled across a rave review
for an artist who was Indie and Christian.
Sufjan Stevens is now one of my favorite artists. And he also happens
to be a Christian. His music is ambitious (he plans to record an album
for all 50 states) and originally orchestrated (on the Michigan album,
he alone plays almost 20 instruments). His lyrics are not an attempt
at conversion through cliché, but an honest, intensely personal
account of life by faith. Sufjan—along with other Christians like
Half-Handed Cloud, Page France, Pedro the Lion, and Danielson Famile—has
shown me the potential of Christian music. Christian music can be challenging,
thought-provoking, creative, beautiful, and God-honoring—all when
the passion for the music matches the passion for the message.
Drew Dixon ‘09 is from Springfield, Ohio. He does not believe
in majors.