[The following post is an article I wrote for my English class. It might bore you to death, but I thought I'd put it up here in case anyone was interested in reading it. Also, so that instead of having to email this to a few people I said I've send it to, I can just give them a link. The last section is the part where I say anything of substance. And yes, it's in MLA (I know, gross).]
“What exactly makes a song secular?” asked Terry Mattingly at the start of his March 2nd chapel address. At first this question seemed like a backward beginning, considering his lecture was entitled “What is Christian Music?” But as he went on to lay out the confusion and debate over the definition of the so-called Contemporary Christian Music Industry (CCM), the relevance of his original question became quite obvious: if we can’t even define what makes a song non-Christian, how can we ever hope to nail down what qualifies music as Christian? In their 1999 book Apostles of Rock: The Splintered Art World of Contemporary Christian Music, Jay Howard and Jon Streck put forward these three criteria: “artist, lyrics, and organization” (9). As Mattingly questioned, is a song Christian because of “the theological commitments of the artist,” or because of the amount of “God-talk” in the song (which apparently is quantified in terms of Jesus per minute, or JPM), or because of the market it is sold in? Or, as Bono questions, is it even possible to call any music Christian?
On top of the nightmare of trying to figure out which of these criteria is the best way to define Christian music, each criteria creates its own problems. If a song is Christian because the artist who wrote it (or performed it—there’s the first problem) is Christian, who gets to decide who is orthodox enough and who isn’t? Are Bob Dylan and Bono Christians? Is Amy Grant (still) a Christian? This kind of debate gets ugly and personal real fast.
If the lyrical content of a song determines its “Christianness,” how direct do the lyrics have to be? Does every song have to present the plan of salvation? Or is saying Jesus’ name good enough? Do Scripture quotes buy an automatic in? Obviously, drawing a line in the sand on this issue is nearly impossible (though listening to the average Christian radio station is enough to convince me that there is some sort of established JPM standard after all).
If being sold in a Christian market defines CCM, then what does it mean, as Mattingly asked, to have a “Christian cash register”? Does that even exist? Or if it requires being produced by a self-proclaimed Christian label, what about indie artists? And again, who is overseeing what is and isn’t Christian? This definition, like the other two, must be referred to a higher authority. And in American evangelicalism there simply isn’t one.
So how do we talk about Christian music in the absence of any authority to give a final verdict on the issue? Howard and Streck provide a helpful division of CCM into three distinct groups: “Separational CCM, Integrational CCM, and Transformational CCM” (16). These three groups correspond loosely to the three criteria for determining if a song is Christian. Separational CCM emphasizes the use of music as ministry, demanding that for a song to be Christian its lyrics must explicitly proclaim truths about God and salvation. Integrational CCM targets the distinct Christian market and subculture, arguing that Christian music must only be a wholesome alternative to the drug and violence and sex ridden music produced in the secular market. Transformational CCM, finally, stresses the importance of the artist’s personal belief, holding that any song written from a Christian worldview qualifies as Christian music.
Even though it was over a decade ago that Howard and Streck came up with these definitions, these three terms accurately categorize Christian music today. The Integrationalist approach has gone out of vogue for the most part, while the Transformationalist movement has grown by leaps and bounds. The current state of affairs, as theologian and rock ‘n roll aficionado Mark Allan Powell notes in the preface to his Encyclopedia of Christian Music, has shifted from a focus on whether Christian music should primarily be ministry or entertainment to whether Christian music should be primarily worship or “art” (11). Still, the three-fold division does provide a helpful frame of reference in which to discuss Christian music, and also serves to trace the progression of CCM from its origins to the present.
Fifty years ago, before anyone was blowing steam about the different approaches to Contemporary Christian Music, Christian pastors and thinkers and budding musicians were going at it tooth and nail over if it was even possible for such a thing as Christian pop or rock to exist. Conservative and Pentecostal leaders condemned rock and roll as inherently demonic and sensual, and saw the incorporation of Christian lyrics to rock melodies by newly converted bands such as Norma Jean (formerly Luda-Kiss) as a great abomination (Howard & Streck 35). Powell postulates that the term “contemporary” was originally just a euphemism for “rock” used by those who couldn’t bring themselves to admit that they had “compromised” with the world (Encyclopedia 12). This demonstrates the hostile attitude of Christian pundits toward rock music in the 60s and 70s. And I’m sure that a brief survey of our parents and professors who were youths during that era would yield story after story of exhortations to burn and smash all those classic rock records in order to truly pursue holiness.
Eventually rock and roll won out, though no one can seem to agree why. Some, like Calvin College professor William Romanowski, attribute the mainstream acceptance of CCM to merely business reasons (109). Others, such as the generally more positive Powell, believe it won acceptance due to the obvious authenticity of the faith of the new Christian rock artists (“Jesus Climbs the Charts” 22). Still others, like Howard and Streck, hold to a more nuanced history of the development of Christian rock as the interweaving of threads both sacred and secular (26). Whatever the case, rock and roll finally gained approval in the eyes of mainstream evangelicalism, and the CCM industry began to form. The evangelistic “Jesus Movement” of the early 70’s gave way to the “Jesus Rock” of Larry Norman and the like, which in turn birthed Christian niche bands such as Stryper and Petra (Howard & Streck 29). Thus CCM left its primarily Separationalist roots and moved towards a more Integrationalist emphasis, aiming to “redeem” rock, as it were, making a purer version of the vice-filled siren tunes of mainstream secular rock.
In the 90’s came the first attempts by CCM artists to legitimize themselves in the broader musical world. Amy Grant was one the pioneers of this phenomena, breaking into the Billboard Top 100 with her album Heart In Motion, and beginning a trend of CCM artists trying to force their way into the “real world” by toning down the “religious” content of their songs (Romanowksi 117). These became known as “crossover” artists, and can be loosely associated with the Transformationalist approach to CCM. Recent times have seen a decline in the crossover fad, but this is most likely because bands are choosing to distance themselves from mainstream CCM from the get-go. Rising Christian artists, having seen enough of CCM to know that it’s not what they want to be associated with, are increasingly distancing themselves from Christian labels and markets.
When I asked Rob Griffith, sophomore English major and frontman of the up-and-coming band Flying Colours, if he attached a positive or negative connotation to the term “CCM,” he did not hesitate a second before answering: “Negative.” He characterized CCM as an industry driven almost entirely by business concerns, and made up of artists (generally speaking) who weren’t good enough to make it in the real world so they resigned themselves to being big in CCM. Griffith’s perspective is not unique: in fact, many aspiring Christian artists whom I have spoken with over the years share his frustrated sentiment that CCM is simply a second-rate and slightly behind-the-times version of the “secular” world’s more original and more talented work.
But what exactly is Christian music according to this viewpoint? In answer to my question “Do you make ‘Christian’ music?” Griffith answered, echoing Bono, that there is no such thing as Christian music—that is, except worship music designed for congregational singing. I suppose, then, we can conclude that this fourth approach to CCM is what we might call “Nonexistent CCM.” If the Separational approach is too constrictive and market driven, and the Integrational approach is too imitative and just bad art, and the Transformative approach ultimately ends with leaving CCM altogether, maybe there isn’t a proper place for CCM other than to produce “church music,” as the fundamentalists have argued all along.
Not everyone is satisfied with that answer, though. Some, like theologian Andy Crouch, believe that this approach to music in particular, and culture in general, falls short of our God-given role to bear his image on earth. In his book Culture Making, Crouch lays out four “postures” that American evangelical Christians have held toward culture in the past two hundred years or so: condemning, copying, critiquing, and consuming (68). Crouch argues that all of these are proper “gestures”—specific responses to individual works—but fail as “postures”—gestures which have become habit through overuse and universal application (90). An outright condemnation of culture is inadequate because whether we like it or not, we need culture as humans, and we will participate in it simply by virtue of living (68). Copying culture is dangerous because it “breeds a generation that prefers facsimile to reality, simplicity to complexity…and familiarity to novelty” (94). Critiquing culture falls short of affecting any real change, because it lives in the world of words and thought, without actually producing anything to replace the “secular” culture that has been explained away. Finally, consuming culture blindly and without reservation leads to Christians becoming indistinguishable from the world—first in appearance, then in substance. Consumption is, in Crouch’s words, “capitulation: letting the culture set the terms, assuming that the culture knows best and that even our deepest longings…have some solution that fits comfortably within our culture’s horizons, if only we can afford to purchase it” (96).
I fear that if we accept that there is no such thing as Christian music, this gesture of consumption will indeed become our posture, and we will not only begin to lose any chance of influencing the culture, but we will also begin to be conformed to the culture that we consume. We need, as Mattingly challenged, people who will make beauty not only for a Christian subculture, but for all—a beauty that can touch the world. We need, as Crouch says even better, to not only condemn, copy, critique, or consume, but also accept our roles as artists and gardeners (97). We must adopt a posture of cultivation and creation, making truly Christian art for the both the world and the Church.
But what does it mean to make Christian art? We have now come full circle, asking again: “What is Christian music?” The modern American evangelical Church of has largely failed to wrestle adequately with what it means to make Christian art, or at least what it means to make art Christianly. Recent years have seen an increased awareness in certain circles of the importance and power of the arts, and theologians are beginning to think through these issues more deeply. But if CCM, which is currently dominated by the often mindless and anti-intellectual Separational approach, is to break from its stigma of producing only mediocre, sanctified versions of secular trends, it will require much more intentional thought on the part of artists and theologians and pastors alike. And it will require great intentionality indeed to avoid the opposing pitfalls which musician and author Jeremy Begbie calls “theological imperialism” and “theological aestheticism”—didactic dogma stifling artistic expression on one hand and artistic expression trumping the importance of orthodoxy on the other (Resounding Truth 21).
Crouch’s terminology of “cultivation” and “creation” may provide us with an answer. As cultivators, we must be aware of the culture that has come before us and that we live and breathe in. We must critique it, evaluating it and listening to it, keeping what is good and throwing out the bad. We certainly should consume it in some sense, appreciating the beauty that is still in the world through God’s common grace. We must copy it to learn the craft, at times, or condemn it entirely when called for. But we cannot stop with cultivation. It is not enough to weed a garden and till the soil and water the ground—we must also plant. Christian music, as it should be, means music that is created under our God-ordained role as his image-bearers to make something beautiful of this world we live in (Crouch 23).
It does not always have to be the most excellent art, and indeed, at first it certainly will not be. It need not always have theological language or a high “JPM,” because life does not consist of only books and words but of relationships and conflict and pain and joy. And it doesn’t have to be sold in Christian bookstores, though I would certainly hope that mainstream evangelicalism would come to appreciate good Christian art in time. But it must, to be Christian music, be made with an eye toward fulfilling the command to cultivate and create culture to the glory of God. If you are a musician and a Christian, I hope you will put into action this call to cultivate and create meaningful and excellent Christian art. And if you are not a Christian, I hope that you will answer this same call to cultivate and create culture in all arenas, so that the Church might reclaim its power to restore and redeem the brokenness of our world.
