What of the homogenous singing and liturgy in regulated worship? Doesn’t it, too, pressure the corporate body during worship? One could object that the environment’s reverence and uniformity cripples genuine emotion on the same token as the contemporary environment. But here the attention is pointed towards God, not a select group. The uniformity of regulated worship diverts attention away from individuals of the corporate body. Thus, the homogeneity may appear to dampen emotions at first glance, yet it is freeing.

Contemporary worship—better coined performative worship in my view—is often accompanied by lights, fog machines, and flickering screens centered around a concert stage. By design, the congregation is led to follow a select few at a distance—the performers—in lieu of the intimate, participatory nature of regulated worship. A chasm splits the observing congregation and performers in this contemporary scene whereby the crowd is the consumer and the performers are the producer.

Among Christians who enjoy its regulated counterpart, there is consensus that contemporary worship is detrimental to the congregation who faces the stage for the aforementioned reasons. Such is rightly agreed on. But we should consider how contemporary worship affects the performers too. The members on stage may suffer the most albeit inconspicuous.

An observant eye will notice the performers never fail to be emotive. They have few bleak moments on stage and less during dramatic songs that demand sentimental mannerisms. Surely, the pressure to manufacture expressions with the repeated choruses and mood-setting strobes is great under the crowd’s gaze. The performers are the center of attention, and this is done with purpose. Not to say some performers could be wholly sincere in their expression throughout the entire show, as some are surely capable, but to suppose every gleaming mannerism on stage is backed with genuine emotion is untenable. Here is where the contemporary culprit lies. Indeed, church members should stray from ingenuine expression during worship yet the contemporary environment pressures the performers into doing so. Individuals in the crowd may not reserve explicit expectations for the performers, but the performers will feel implicit expectation, then are pressured to generate outward passion to satisfy the crowd. Lest, they appear unspiritual. It can be exhausting, heart-wrenching, to watch them satisfy the demand.

By consequence, the performers are coerced to worship with a feigned heart due to the performative demands. Every Lord’s Day their elated passion is expected, but there is no guarantee the performers will be in the state to do this. The emotions of the Christian life are not static. Perhaps, their souls desire to lament. Or instead of brimming with passion, maybe the performers are tranquil in reflection. It could be they wish to cast their daily anxieties at the foot of Christ, which is far from stage worthy. These emotions the performers undoubtedly feel at times during their Christian life are suppressed by the stage’s demands. Though, in contemporary worship, none would be aware of the inner turmoil in their fellow members’ hearts.

While the members on stage suffer this the observing congregation can express their genuine, unpressured emotion be it lamentation or otherwise. Though the performer reserves a single option: satisfy the demands of the stage. One must wonder when the last time was the performers had deep spiritual rest.

What of the homogenous singing and liturgy in regulated worship? Doesn’t it, too, pressure the corporate body during worship? One could object that the environment’s reverence and uniformity cripples genuine emotion on the same token as the contemporary environment. But here the attention is pointed towards God, not a select group. The uniformity of regulated worship diverts attention away from individuals of the corporate body. Thus, the homogeneity may appear to dampen emotions at first glance, yet it is freeing.

In taking the form of one body the individual is unshackled from the demands bestowed by public attention. They are masked in a way. Such is one of the many beauties of the regulative principle. If performers, in the contemporary worship so common today, failed to signal their passion one Sunday their fellow church members would remember it for weeks. If someone broke down in lamentation in a regulated service, most of the corporate would fail to notice. Those who might would not bat an eye.

Consequences abound when we point to anything but God during worship. Not only does our worship become unfit when we do, but we end up inflicting ourselves in the process.

Charles B. Jacobi attends Hillside Church in Lubbock, Texas and is a PhD Student in the Department of Biological Sciences at Texas Tech University.