Music and the BrainI have argued that the primary purpose of music in corporate worship is to facilitate congregational singing.  And I plan to get into what this means for worship leaders in a later post.  But before I do, I want to take one or two posts to gather some ideas about why corporate singing is such an important experience in the life of the Christian and why I think all churches should strive to make corporate singing their highest musical priority.

I want to try to answer the question from a few different angles, beginning empirically and moving to the theological.  My basic claim is this: God designed us such that corporate singing resonates with our emotions on a deep level.  Singing together instills in us, in a way that spoken theology and other forms of communication cannot, that we are not alone, that we are living members of the glorious Communion of Saints.

A Curious Feeling of Transcendence

Corporate singing, as I mentioned in my post about U2, can create a transcendent feeling of hyper-connectedness.  I’ve never known exactly what to call this feeling, but whatever it is, it’s the opposite of loneliness.  This is why people, even those who have no particular religious persuasions, leave a great rock concert gushing with enthusiasm, ebullient with a feeling of joy and connectedness.  Singing loudly together with lots of people (especially thousands, like at U2 concerts) speaks to us on an emotional level.

Neuroscience, Oxytocin, and Singing

Where does this feeling come from and why do we have it when we sing together? An entire branch of the neuroscience community studies the effects of music on the brain, trying to answer questions like this one.  (See, for instance, the Library of Congress’s series of interviews on the topic.)  If you research a bit, one of the first answers you’ll find for our question is oxytocin.  Oxytocin, (not to be confused with Oxycontin, the pain-killing drug) is a hormone produced by the human brain that contributes to feelings of trust for the people around you.  It is most well known for its role in sexual behavior–oxytocin levels are high after orgasm, leading people to feel tremendously bonded together with their partner.  It’s a bit like neurochemical soul glue.

According to Daniel Levitin, author of This is Your Brain on Music, sex isn’t the only thing that leads to high levels of oxytocin.  What’s the other?  Singing, particularly singing with other people, causes the brain to produce unusually high levels of oxytocin.  Just to double check, I found a study at the National Center for Biotechnology Information that lends credibility to this claim: when people sing together, their brains make oxytocin, and that makes them feel trust, solidarity, and connectedness with the people around them.

Some readers may find this a bit anticlimactic.  “Oh, it’s just a chemical in the brain.”  Or if you’re skeptical of religious experience in general, you may say, “Ah ha, see, it’s just a hormone, not any of that holy spirit nonsense.”  I won’t really take the time in this post to respond to the latter charge (although I’ll include a brief comment/footnote at the bottom).

But I do hope that the rest of this discussion addresses the former concern.  Simply because a mental event has a corresponding neurological reality does not make it spiritually or personally insignificant.  God designed our brains as surely as he designed anything else, and he made our brains such that corporate singing causes a profound feeling of solidarity and trust with those around around us.

The Gift of Corporate Music

So why does God tell us to so frequently (in the Psalms) to sing together?  Well, an initial, empirical answer, is that he knows us, and He wants us to not only know cognitively but also feel emotionally what is true.  He designed us such that corporate singing would draw us out of our  self-oriented little worlds and declare to us loudly that we are not alone.  You are not just a lone ranger in your walk with the LORD,  you are, to borrow the language of the Book of Common Prayer,  a living member of the mystical Body of Christ, the blessed company of all faithful people, and an heir of God’s eternal kingdom.

Music is a gift God has given to the church to help declare loudly to us this fundamental theological truth, which is sometimes otherwise difficult for us to believe.  We often feel alone.  I think it’s a product of the Fall that we are so prone to loneliness and disconnection.  Music is one of the primary gifts God has given to help us unlearn the lie that we are alone.  And it’s not just listening to music, it’s corporate singing, that makes the point.

In conclusion: at least one reason why God tells us to sing together in church is b/c he knows that this will help bind us together as a Body, his Bride, and he wants us to know that we are not alone.  Therefore, churches should make corporate singing their highest musical priority because it produces in us a God-given response that helps us feel and know that we really are part of the Communion of Saints.


worship in the dark

If you’ve been following along, you know we have been talking about what I believe makes a song useful for corporate worship.  I have argued that the best song are those songs that have strong, singable melodies.

But I have yet to ask or answer a much more primary question.  What is the purpose of music in corporate worship? Why did God even give us music and tell us to use it when we gather corporately for worship?  Why don’t we just recite poetry together without music?  Why did God specifically give us notes, melodies, and harmonies?

This question is important, even if it does not readily strike you so.  A lot of the disputes about how and what we sing in church come back to differences over this basic “Why?” question.

So let me take a stab at it.  I believe that the purpose of music in corporate worship is to facilitate people singing together. This seems pretty clear from Scripture.  Briefly: the Psalms tell us 70 times that we are to sing; the New Testament church sang a lot; and Revelation is full of images of saints and angels singing.  Usually when the Psalms tell us to sing, it’s with an exclamation point at the end of the sentence, as in, “SING WITH ALL YOU GOT, PEOPLE!”  Obviously I’m paraphrasing, but I don’t think I’m exaggerating the emphasis of Scripture. “Sing!” is one of the most frequent and emphatic exhortations in the Bible.

So, for a musician, when we ask, “What am I supposed to be doing here?”  The most obvious and fundamental answer is, “Get people singing!”  The Psalms do not say, “Perform for one another.”  That said, they do often reference the skillful playing of instruments, but it is almost always in the context of facilitating singing.  Consider two examples that I just pulled from a quick search.

Psalm 81:  1″ Sing for joy to God our strength; shout aloud to the God of Jacob!2 Begin the music, strike the tambourine, play the melodious harp and lyre.

Or Psalm 33: 1 “Sing joyfully to the LORD, you righteous; it is fitting for the upright to praise him.2 Praise the LORD with the harp; make music to him on the ten-stringed lyre.3 Sing to him a new song; play skillfully, and shout for joy.

It doesn’t take elaborate exegesis to get the idea.  The images here are of people  (all the “righteous,” not just the musicians) singing with instruments aiding them.  It is not an image of a bunch of musicians playing together while the Faithful look on approvingly.

This claim may seem obvious, but if you look at church music in many American contexts, you’ll see that it’s not obvious at all.  In fact, many churches treat music as if its purpose is to sound cool to a listening audience, not to incorporate the voices of a participating congregation.  The music is often excellent and attractive, but it is turned up too loud, or the songs are keyed too high, or the songs are simply hard to sing along to, with the overall effect being that the congregation is musically irrelevant–they mostly watch and listen.  If the congregation sings or not, it doesn’t make much difference, because they can’t be heard.

But if facilitating congregational singing is the purpose of our music, things will look and sound different.   Next week I will talk about what this means for worship leaders.

What do you think?  Am I crazy, misguided, or simply wrong?  I’d like to hear from you.


U2 at Fedex Field

U2 at Fedex Field

I want to take a brief hiatus from my current line of thought about melody structure and hymns to say this: I went to see U2 last Tuesday night at Fedex Field.  It was my first time at a concert of this magnitude.  I’m not going to review the concert here.  Click the image above for a link to the Washington Post’s review.  Suffice it to say, it was colossal in scope and execution.

But I do want to offer an opinion about what makes U2 concerts so enjoyable to so many people.  Really, it’s just an anecdotal suggestion, take it or leave it.

U2 has a few things going for them: they have been producing popular music for 30 years, everyone knows at least the choruses to most of their hits, and Bono knows how to get people singing.  Moreover, U2 knows how to shut up when people are singing so the crowd can hear itself.  So when you go to a U2 concert, you not only get to hear a rock band playing really loudly for tens of thousands of people; you also get to hear tens of thousands of people singing/yelling at the top of their lungs in unison! Now that is amazing.

Last week I got to hear 80,000 people singing “I believe in the Kingdom Come, Then all the colors will bleed into one, Bleed into one, But yes I’m still running.  You broke the bonds, And you loosed the chains, Carried the cross, Of my shame, Oh my shame, You know I believe it.”

And, honestly, in my opinion, that is WAY cooler than hearing U2 or any rock band perform.  In fact, I believe there  is something powerfully transcendent about corporate singing, especially when it’s in unison with so many people, regardless of what you’re singing.  Don’t get me wrong: I’m not saying that a U2 concert is some sort of “ultimate spiritual experience,” although many people do have what they call spiritual experiences at U2 shows.  If anything, the show last week left me feeling a bit hollow, longing for what one day will be–innumerable Saints and angels lifting their voices in louder song to the LORD of Hosts.

But I think God designed us to sing together, and often when we do, something deep inside of us resonates.  And I hypothesize that one of the reasons (and there are many others) why U2 is so popular is because they harness and utilize the power of corporate singing at their shows.

It’s almost as cool as being at church.  Almost.  Check the video below for a good example of U2 using the audience’s voices as an instrument.


Last week we discussed singable melodies.  I am suggesting that the most important feature that makes a song suitable for corporate worship is the strength of its melody.  Songs that get sung across the world are the ones with strong, compelling melodies that are able to stand alone, because those work well on the only instrument shared by all churches: the human voice.

This week, I simply want to illustrate and explore the point about singable melodies.  To do this, I have chosen two songs that I, and millions of other people, think are fantastic.  BUT, for all their popularity, and even though both of them are great folk rock songs, one of them would work well (musically) for corporate worship, while the other would be an utter disaster.  The difference?  Melody.

Our first example is one of the greatest folk rock songs ever: Like A Rolling Stone, by Bob Dylan.

Try this: If you’re not surrounded by people who will think you’re crazy, hit pause on the video and sing the melody of the first verse.  “Once upon a time you dressed so fine, threw-the-bums-a-dime in your prime… didn’t you?” What do you hear?  We have one note being repeated over and over with no regularity or pattern.  It’s almost like a typewriter pounding away and the typist is pausing occasionally to think about what he wants to type next.  At the end of the line you have an indefinite pause after “prime,” before Bob asks, “didn’t you?”  Not only does this melody, without its accompaniment, sound lonely and boring, it would be incredibly difficult for a group of people to follow, because it’s so irregular. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not insulting the song.  It’s a great song.  But the melody cannot stand alone and therefore would not lend itself to corporate singing.  Fortunately for all of us, it’s not intended for corporate singing.  Rock on, Bob.

Second example.  Peaceful Easy Feeling, by the Eagles.

Although these songs are in a similar genre, the construction of the melody is very different. Again, try the a cappella test.  What do you hear?  The melody moves fluidly from one note to the next without irregular pauses.  It stays in a relatively narrow range (5 notes in the verse) but is not so simple as to be boring.  At the end of the first line (“lay”), there’s just enough time to take a natural breath before singing the next line.  At the chorus, the melody goes up to its highest note, a C#, at “peaceful” and then gradually works its way back to its lowest note, also a C#, at “on the ground.”   So the range of the melody is only 1 octave–reasonable for most average voices to sing.

Now, I don’t want to pretend to be more musically astute than I am.  I cannot analyze this melody through the lens of a great music theorist.  Nor do I hold this song up as a paragon of melodic achievement.  But I can say this: it works pretty well for singing. It’s repetitive enough to be memorable, (but not so much that it’s boring) and unlike Dylan’s song above, which is driven by chord changes, this song is basically carried along by its melody.

So what’s the point of this comparison?  People will enjoy listening to both of these songs.  But they will only enjoy corporately singing one of them.  And when we’re writing or selecting songs for corporate worship, we want melodies that invite people to sing their best.  This is what hymns do well–they are carried by strong, memorable melodies that encourage good singing.

Can you hear the difference?


We are discussing hymns–defined as songs that are able to work in a wide variety of cultural settings, such that they can still be used a generation or more after they were written.  In this post, I am going to suggest that the #1 most important thing that makes a song able to survive is having a strong, singable melody…preferably one that can be sung a cappella and still sound great.

To explain this, let me begin with a seemingly goofy question.  What is one thing that all churches have in common? Old, young, rich, poor, Western, African, Asian, black, white, high-church, low-church, orthodox, liberal: with all the doctrinal and practical differences, do they actually have anything in common?  Yes, they all have PEOPLE–human beings, probably more than one of them.

“Duh,” you might be thinking.  It’s an inanely obvious point to make, but let me explain.  Because all churches have people, it means that all churches have human voices as their primary instrument.  If you travel and visit churches across America, you will realize that instrumentation from one church to another varies wildly–from pipe organs to electric guitars or just hand drums.  I once visited a church in Namibia with no instruments and no up-front music leader, just 600+ human voices.  And that’s the point:  human voices are the only instrument that all churches across the world share in common.

Thus, the human voice is the first and most important instrument on which a song must sound good if that song is going to survive beyond the cultural space and moment in which it was written. If a song is carried by its guitar part, then it will only be used by churches that have guitars. If it only works when carried by a piano, then all the churches that have a guitar-led worship band are going to pass over it, and so on, and so on.  But if a song works beautifully and elegantly with the human voice, then that song can be translated to any congregation anywhere in the world.

A good melody can always be added to with additional accompaniment specific to the congregation and culture of the church.  But if the melody is weak, the song will not survive.

I’m going to wrap up today with a test.  How do you know if a song has a compelling melody?  Try singing it a cappella. Listen to what you hear.  Are there overly long empty pauses (where instruments would be playing)?  Is it too repetitive and boring?  Or is it too complicated (and probably not repetitive enough)?  Does it move up and down in the scale or just sit in one place?  Would it sound beautiful if performed just like this, naked and unadorned, with a few voices giving it a bit of harmony?  If so, then you’ve probably got a solid melody.  If not, then, it may still be a great song for your church with your instrumentation, but it’s probably not going to survive or translate across cultures and times.  Other instruments will come and go based on a church’s cultural setting and budget, but the human voice remains.  And it’s the only instrument created by God.

In my next post, I’ll illustrate this point about melody with some examples (from Bob Dylan and the Eagles) and begin unpacking some of the specific features that make the best melodies work so well.  In the meantime, what do you think are some of the best, most singable melodies for corporate worship?


In my previous (and first ever) post, I began writing about the process of social selection by which songs become “hymns.” Today, I want to talk about one of the two aspects of a song that make them survive this process: text and music (or musical setting).

A hymn is a song that survives through time to be singable and usable by a wide variety of Christians in a wide variety of cultural contexts.  But how does a song survive?  Of the thousands of songs written for corporate worship in the 19th century, why did a handful survive while the rest were largely forgotten?  My answer comes in two categories: music and lyrics.

I actually don’t want to spend too much time talking about lyrics.  Generally speaking, song lyrics fall under the category of poetry, the merits and demerits of which have been extensively discussed by literary people for centuries.  What is and is not good poetry?  I don’t think I have a lot to add to that conversation.  But more than just the poetic quality, in the church context, the theological content of the song matters, too.  A song must reflect certain Biblical truths in order to be valuable for Christian worship.  As with poetry and its critics, many pastors, theologians, and critics have written extensively about the importance of singing theologically rich songs in church.  I agree.  We should sing theologically rich songs in church.  (That said, I don’t think it’s as simple as that, but I don’t want to get into complicated nuances until we’ve talked about music first).  In other words, I think most of the important things to say about lyrics have already been said elsewhere.

So let’s talk about music.  And let’s start by getting one thing clear: It is NOT enough for a song to have great lyrics. If the music (especially the melody) is lame, the song will die a quick and unheralded death, OR it will go into something we might call “song purgatory.”  What is song purgatory?  It’s when a song sits unused for years and years because it has been attached to a weak (or simply unfitting melody).  When that happens to a good text, it will sit in “song purgatory” until someone comes along, picks it up, and gives it a new melody.  If that new melody is good enough, then the song will leave purgatory and have a second chance at being widely used in churches.  But absent of a good melody to accompany it, even a song with the loveliest and most theologically rich language will sit unused by the vast majority of Christians.

An example of this is “Jesus With Thy Church Abide.”  The original text was written by Thomas Pollock in 1871 and set to music not long after by John Bacchus Dykes.  Now, Mr. Dykes was apparently quite a music writer in his day.  He set more than 300 texts to music for church usage and seems to have been in demand for this sort of work.  That said, the tune he wrote for Jesus With Thy Church Abide is, in my opinion, obtuse and kind of drab. Give it a listen and decide for yourself.  Turn your 21st century ears to this melody (paying no attention to the lyrics) and ask yourself, “Do I want to sing this?”  More importantly, do you want to sing the text for “Jesus With Thy Church Abide” to this tune?  I think not.

Fast forward 126 years to 1997 when Christopher Miner found this text and wrote a new tune to it.  That tune got circulated among college ministries and churches for several years until 2003 when a group of musicians in Nashville picked it up and put it on a record called “For All the Saints.”  Go here to listen to it.  Of course, the great production helps (as opposed to the 2-voice midi file on cyberhymnal), but there’s more than just production here.  Miner’s tune, unlike Mr. Dykes’ version from the 1870s, is easy to sing, memorable, and, I think, beautiful.  It also works with the text.

Of course, it remains to be see if Mr. Miner’s tune will survive a generation.  But I predict it will keep getting sung and used in churches.  We use it at my church, and every time we do, people come up to me afterward and say something like, “What was the name of that song we sang about ‘we beseech thee’?  It was beautiful!” In fact, I just got an email today from a fellow musician asking for the chord sheet for this song because he heard it at our service on Sunday.  Way to go, Christopher Miner, wherever you are.  You have resurrected Thomas Pollock’s lovely text from song purgatory.

Next time, I will explore this concept some more.  What is it about a song or melody that make a song survive the process of social selection and become a hymn?  What do you think?


If you talk to Christians about the music at their churches, it will not be long before the topic becomes the relative merits or demerits of “hymns” versus “praise songs.”  These conversations often operate on a shared set of assumptions that are not explicit to the outside observer.  For instance: What is a hymn?  And what makes a hymn different from a praise song?  When people say, “That song sounds like a hymn,” what do they mean?

At the beginning of this online conversation about church music, I want to simply propose a definition to a term, or rather suggest a way of understanding the term “hymn.”  (This definition may to be modified as  this blog evolves).  What is a hymn?  A hymn is a song for corporate worship that has survived a process of social selection over more than one generation. A hymn is a survivor of musical and theological trends; a hymn is a song that, upon testing over time, proves to be translatable into different cultures.  A hymn is a song that, if contextualized properly, can be sung earnestly by old people, young people, rich people, poor people, American evangelicals, Korean Presbyterians, Catholics, rural churches in southern Africa, and urban churches in Mexico City. A hymn is a song with a poetic and musical heart strong enough to be adapted into a wide variety of settings and still sound beautiful.

Think of it this way: Between 1800 and 1900, a whole lot of songs were written for corporate worship.  (Fanny Crosby alone wrote over 8,000 in roughly this period).  Most of them, the vast majority, you and I have never heard.  But out of the thousands and thousands that were written, a relatively small number, are still being used widely today.  These, I submit, should be considered hymns.

Likewise, today songwriters are composing a tremendous volume of songs for church usage.  Most of them will never get a wide hearing, and most that do, even many that are tremendously popular today, will be extinct in 20 years.  Time will reveal them to possess any number of unendurable qualities–they are too hard to sing, or too repetitive, or not repetitive enough, or they are simply too musically specific to the cultural moment in which they were written–they were too much products of their time.

So, for the sake of our conversation about church music, I think it is useful to think of hymns as those songs that have survived a process of social selection.  They are still around because their musical and lyrical content has been approved by a “democracy of the dead” as Chesterton would call it.

But why?  Why do some songs endure and become considered hymns while others disappear?  What are the features of a song that make it adaptable and able to survive?  We’ll talk more about this in subsequent posts.