Why Singing In Church Matters

Because I Need To Hear You, And You Might Need To Hear Me, Too

What a strange and intimate gift it is to stand next to someone and hear them sing.

To think that we in the Church do this so regularly we take it for granted is wild. In no other context would sober people, who aren’t in a choir or a class, do such a thing. Yet, week after week, we do.

There we are, beside a friend, a spouse, a parent, a teacher, a fellow member of our local community, and (if the music leading us is not so loud to drown it out) we get to hear their voices…

…confessing their need, and reminding us that we are not alone in our sin and limitations.

…affirming their belief, and encouraging us that we are not crazy to put our hope in Jesus. (Or if we are, at least we’re not the only ones!)

…praising the God that we long so desperately to connect with, to be healed by, and to thank for the all that we hold so dear.

When churches first started meeting, they could have been organized to sit and listen to the most talented voices, but God knew that is not what we needed. So He asked that we sing together. To plead and praise together. And a beautiful, and surely intentional, byproduct is that we get to hear one another doing so. Because we need it.

I need to hear you, and you need to hear me.

Yet, there is so much at work to keep this gift of connectedness from us, whether it be our society’s introduction of lights and sound systems, and the blurred lines of worship leading and performance, or our own personal shame and insecurities. And trust me, I get shame and insecurity, but here’s something I’ve learned the hard way:

Friends, please don’t believe the lie that the quality of your voice equates to its value. Evil would love nothing more.

Know that every voice is a blessing to someone. 

Now, to my regret, my ears were not always attuned to these more “sacred frequencies”.

In years past, when I would be standing in worship singing, or leading from the stage, and I’d hear a loud, sometimes awkward or distracting voice, my first instinct was to be annoyed and question why they weren’t “reading the room” like everyone else. Or even worse, I would look around, in hopes of locking eyes with a friend, so we could share a laugh at the expense of the pioneering vocalist.

Lord, have mercy.

Of course, after the show I’d meet a family who was sitting in that section of the room and find out that a giant fan of mine has special needs and loved to sing along at the top of his lungs to every song. (Yeah, Andrew, this is what you thought was so funny.)

If Christ’s kindness is found in our continual humblings, then Jesus has been exceptionally kind to me. Yet, I’m thankful, even for the many times I’ve made a fool of myself, for God has used it as a great teacher. 

And so I’ve been led to this understanding, that every Sunday, as I’m there in a room full of people who know me and my family, as we know and love theirs, that I am surrounded by what Martin Luther calls “the priesthood of all believers” - The Holy Spirit alive and faithful in the hearts all around me. I promise you, that is infinitely more powerful than a great video package and even the most inspiring worship leader.

Look, I love a great band. I play guitar for a living and I love my pedalboard only slightly less than my children. I give full weight to the value of excellence and the Gospel’s ability to communicate through beauty. And still…

As I get older I am bringing more and more into church with me (our children’s relationships, my wife’s cancer, my career, our finances, national politics, etc…) It now matters less and less to me how great the worship team sounds, and so much more that I hear the hope and belief in the voices of people I love singing along around me.

So worship leaders, I encourage you, don’t be afraid to give your congregations moments to hear themselves. To hear each other. Maybe longer moments than you’re comfortable with. A hymn with just a piano, a praise chorus with just a guitar, a song with no instruments at all. 

After all, just as most players in the band are excited for the opportunity to play, this is most people’s one chance a week to sing, too.

You might be surprised that, when given the chance, they’re louder than the band could ever be.

---

Speaking of singing along, if you haven’t heard our new Anchor Hymns album “Beloved - Live From Black Abbey”, it’s full of the kinds of songs we hope are worth singing in worship - for yourself, for your neighbor, for your families - and I would love for you to take some time to give it a listen. It’s a celebratory recording of songs about friendship with Jesus, and we had a great time making it. I really think you’ll enjoy it.