It doesn’t matter whether it has come from Wesley or Getty, Townend or Toplady, what we need is the truth, undiluted and distinct. When we gather this Sunday I need you to tell me the truth in song, I need you to engrave the greatness of God, the unsearchableness of his grace, the majesty of his name, the certainty of his sovereignty, the pathos of Calvary, the revolution of a risen Saviour, into my heart. I need you to plant a seed in my ear which will yield true worship in my life. My heart is too quick to focus on self, it is too keen to make comparison to others – please give me God in our worship.

For many in my generation, worship style was war paint, a badge of one’s loyalty to the novel in public praise, or the traditional – a war of attrition which could sink whole fellowships, and could divide brothers and sisters. In such an environment, with its proliferation of false binaries and battle lines, thinking clearly about how sung worship should work was almost impossible. With the passage of time, with exposure to different styles, to worship services in different cultures, and with a growing sense of conviction about how our singing should work, I have five pleas to make to my brothers and sisters when we gather to give God glory in song.

1. Brothers and Sisters, Tell Me the Truth

The time stamp on a hymn or song is the least important part of its composition. It doesn’t matter whether it has come from Wesley or Getty, Townend or Toplady, what we need is the truth, undiluted and distinct. When we gather this Sunday I need you to tell me the truth in song, I need you to engrave the greatness of God, the unsearchableness of his grace, the majesty of his name, the certainty of his sovereignty, the pathos of Calvary, the revolution of a risen Saviour, into my heart. I need you to plant a seed in my ear which will yield true worship in my life. My heart is too quick to focus on self, it is too keen to make comparison to others – please give me God in our worship.

Please don’t just tell me your truth. Of course I need you to testify, I need to know that there is ownership and investment, I need to sing with you ‘And can it be that I should gain’, but please don’t leave us there, take us to the heart of God and the heights of his glory. My every day is spent among the ruins of subjectivity, the weather bulletin is more reliable than the news, my friends and acquaintances have ample platforms to air their views, postmodernism is the engaged tone at the end of almost every line of life. Please tell me the truth, baptise your joys, sorrows, and aspirations in the unspeakable wonder of God. In using personal pronouns bathe them in the ego consuming radiance of a God whose person and whose purposes are certain. Brothers and sisters, please, tell me the truth.

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