“Delving into 16th century music history would teach us that we’re asking the wrong question. The institutional church’s influence on society at that time was immense; it was far greater than a postmodern American perspective could really fathom. Thus, secular music was derived from the musical idiom of the church, not the other way around as it is today.”

Were some of our most beloved hymns written to drinking songs?

No.

The first time I heard this argument was nearly ten years ago in a graduate level class at Wheaton College titled “Religion in American Life,” and it’s seared in my memory because I was blown away by the dearth of understanding surrounding worship in the church, even among educated people. My proposed research topic had sparked a lively debate between two of my classmates about appropriate music for corporate worship. The person who used this argument was a highly intelligent student who I believe has completed post-graduate work in theology and church history.

I wrote down what she said verbatim. This was it:

“I mean, like, a lot of the hymns we know were barroom songs before they became, like, ‘God Bless America,’ or whatever.”

I’m really most bothered by the fact she was under the impression that Irving Berlin’s schmaltzy, sentimental, United States-worshiping ditty was actually a great hymn of the church, but, like, whatever…

One of the most common arguments for the use of christianized commercial music in corporate worship is that Martin Luther himself used tavern tunes for his hymns. This just isn’t true, and after having been debunked countless times, we still see it floating around.

Delving into 16th century music history would teach us that we’re asking the wrong question. The institutional church’s influence on society at that time was immense; it was far greater than a postmodern American perspective could really fathom. Thus, secular music was derived from the musical idiom of the church, not the other way around as it is today. Discussion on this fact demands an entirely different post, and it would have to be written by someone far more knowledgeable than yours truly.

To be brief, here’s what we do know about the Martin Luther situation. Luther was obviously quite interested in empowering common people to participate in the liturgy. When it came to music, he wrote his own tunes based on existing chants and religious tunes, and folk melodies. They were chosen, not necessarily because they were already well-known tunes, but because they were accessible for the common people. That was the key. They were singable. In practical terms, they were not melodically or rhythmically difficult, didn’t stretch the average vocal range, and set the text with dignity and artistry.

It wasn’t that he was trying to engage secular culture, it was that he wanted people to be able to participate. And though it’s well-documented that Luther had a particular affinity for the suds, as any good German did and does, he would not have been comfortable borrowing what he called “carnal tunes” and “love songs.” Check out this quote from the preface to one of Luther’s hymnals:

These songs were arranged in four parts to give the young – who should at any rate be trained in music and other fine arts – something to wean them away from love ballads and carnal songs and to teach them something of value in their place, thus combining the good with the pleasing, as is proper for youth. (1)

If there is an argument for the church borrowing directly from American popular music, we really cannot use Luther, or any other hymnwriters, to make our case.

What we might gain from this quote is that Luther would have also supported church music education and the use of good, artistic music in corporate worship, as opposed to the vernacular. And we also have to recognize that the proliferation of the recording industry has further limited us today in developing good musicians and church music programs, and instead settle for what are essentially cover bands leading worshiping congregations in singing as if they were singing along with the radio in the car, mimicking the vocals of Top 40 recording artists.

All this is not to say that there is an inherent evilness in American popular music (although many of the fundamentalists I grew up around would beg to differ), but the profound poverty of artistry and imagination found in our culture’s musical output is staggering, as is our willingness to fill our worship gatherings with christianized versions. As our fleeting human ability to create beautiful artistic expression is such a striking example of our divine Creator’s image in us, I don’t think the church can denounce this trend strongly enough.

The great Creator is still creating. So are we to be.

Jonathan Aigner lives in Houston, Texas, where he serves as a church musician. This article appeared on his blog and is used with permission.