What is the place and role of music in the life and faith of a Christian? Most Christians conceive of music in two ways: within acts of worship as an adjunct means of offering praise and glory to God, and in secular life as a source of entertainment and relaxing diversion for leisure. In the Reformed tradition, there has been much heated debate over whether any texts other than Psalm texts may be sung in worship, and whether hymns must be sung a cappella or whether instrumental accompaniment (and purely instrumental pieces)may be employed. This article will not address those issues, however. Rather, I wish to reflect on the nature of music from a broader theological and philosophical perspective in the economy of creation and redemption, as a medium that has a profound and unique power to affect and shape the soul.
The Scriptures have virtually no references to music in a generic sense. There are slightly over one hundred references to song and singing, almost seventy of which occur in the Psalms; in addition, fifty-five Psalms have a supplemental directive, “To the chief musician [natsach], ”generally believed to have been a cantor and choir director for the temple in Jerusalem. There are also slightly over fifty references to the harp and harp playing for various purposes. In addition, there are single references to a song with instrumental accompaniment (Lam.3:63), and to music for stringed instruments (Lam. 5:14), and general references to musical instruments (Eccl. 2:8), the playing of music (Dan. 3:5, 7, 10, 15), and musicians (Rev. 18:22). The large majority of these references occur in the Old Testament; most of these concern an offering either of praise or acclamation to God or a king, or a lament for the death of a person or the fall of a city. The few exceptions—Ecclesiastes 2:8 and some of the mentions of the harp—concern either prophetic speech, relief from torment by a malign spirit, military alarms, or music for pleasure (e.g., to accompany a festival or banquet).
The Scriptures, then, offer some examples and directives for the right use of music—though as Daniel 3 shows, music also can be misused in the service of idolatry. They also show that music has a unique power not only to express thoughts and feelings but also to shape them—in short, to move and form the soul (e.g., 1 Sam. 16:14–16, 23). However, the Scriptures are not explicit as to how and why this is possible, nor do they give further directives for proper application to Christian thought and conduct of life. To address these issues, it is necessary to attempt to draw some broader inferences from theological principles based upon general rather than special revelation.
First, as the previously cited Scriptural references to music show, music is not simply a set of noises or sounds assembled together in an arbitrary sequence; instead, it is a medium for communication of meaning. This has profound implications, for it means that music is, somehow, a vehicle for transmission of truth or falsehood, and therefore that musical pieces also have, at least implicitly and to varying degrees, moral content and character. (Note that I am not speaking here of the lyrics to songs, which are words, but of music per se.) Against Docetism and Gnosticism, the Scriptures pointedly affirm that all five of the human senses—sight, sound, touch, taste, and smell (1 John 1:1; Rom. 10:17; Psalm 34:18; 2 Cor. 2:14; etc.)—are means within the realm of general revelation for discerning and knowing God. Yet the latter three of these five senses do not involve speech at all, while the first two do so only sometimes. That said, all sensory information must be interpreted by the rational mind in order for it to be comprehensible.
Second, in order to be able to convey meaning, music must have definite content and structure, or design. It is therefore also purposive—its creation and use have a definite goal and end. And, even in creatures such as birds that act by instinct rather than ratiocination, it is the product of living beings. (Mechanical or electronic devices that produce music of course do so only as human inventions.) For human beings, the ability to produce music, like the ability to speak, is an innate, God-given capacity. While only God creates ex nihilo and de novo, man creates analogically, in a secondary, derivative, and imitative sense, as being made in the image and likeness of God. And since God is the God of order and not of confusion, the creation of music (indeed, of all art) in a proper sense must be an orderly activity, ultimately directed to his praise and glory.
A key influence here is De musica of the early Christian philosopher Boethius (c. 480–524), which was the fundamental theoretical text on music in Christian civilization for a millennium. Boethius posited three different types or orders of music in the cosmos. Musica mundana (music of the worlds or spheres), to which he devoted most of his attention, is the harmonious interrelation of the movements of the sun, stars, planets, cosmic elements, and seasons of time, according to arithmetical and geometrical laws. This not only manifests the order of God’s entire creation, setting forth his power and glory, but also comprises ordering principles for all lower beings and objects, and thus also has a moral character. Musica humana (music of mankind) is the internal harmony of soul and body in man, as a microcosm paralleling and reflecting by God’s design the macrocosm of the cosmos. Both of these are purely theoretical and hence inaudible. Musica instrumentalis (instrumental music), the lowest of the three, is the actually audible music that human beings derivatively produce by artificial devices, in imitation of the motions of the musica mundana and musica humana that move them as living spiritual creatures, to the praise and glory of God. C. S. Lewis, a scholar both of Boethius and of the Renaissance humanists who theorized for an audible musica mundana, drew upon this tradition in having Aslan sing Narnia into existence in The Magician’s Nephew. While the particular schematic details of Boethius’s theory are no longer held, his broader general principles regarding music as an ordering principle with moral character, reflecting the being and nature of God, retain their validity.
Third, there has been much debate over whether or not music is a language. I believe that it is, but I also think that this affirmation often has been incorrectly framed. As those who deny this position point out, music per se cannot state or name specific concepts or things, as spoken languages do. Richard Strauss claimed to be able by musical means to “differentiate a knife and a fork”; but while a person listening to the Sinfonia domestica with Strauss’s program in hand can follow its detailed portrayal of scenes from the composer’s home life, someone listening to the work without such prior verbal guidance would have no idea what is being described. The problem lies in supposing that music is a language in the same sense as Hebrew or Chinese or English. Instead, it is language in the broader sense—of a genus, not a species—that we speak of computer language(s) or of mathematics. Just as there are a multitude of spoken human languages and dialects, so too are there a plethora of particular musical languages. Likewise, just as all human languages have parts of speech and structural elements—consonants and vowels, syllables and words, phrases and sentences, and correct pronunciation, spelling, grammar, and syntax—that are used to construct utterances ranging from aphorisms to novels, music has its own counterpart elements— pitch, duration, timbre, rest, dynamics,intonation, tempo, meter, rhythm, phrasing, articulation, etc.—that form musical statements ranging from themes, songs, and instrumental movements to symphonies and operas.
A crucial question arises here: If music in and of itself cannot name or state specific things and concepts, what kind of meaning can and does it communicate, and how? I would argue that whereas spoken languages (and their written correlates) are ratiocinative, musical languages are affective—they speak primarily to the emotions and intuitions, rather than to the logical faculties. (These domain boundaries are not exclusive, of course. Spoken languages also communicate to such non-rational faculties, and music to human reason, but they do so secondarily and indirectly. As with sensory data, reason must be employed to understand affective communications.) Music’s capacity to express and convey meaning lies in its ability to move us deeply in both ou rbodily and spiritual natures, in ways and to depths and by means that rational verbal discourse alone cannot. Felix Mendelssohn wrote,“People often complain that music is so ambiguous that what they are to think about it always seems so doubtful, whereas everyone understands words. With me it is exactly the reverse. . . . What any music I love expresses to me is not thought too indefinite to be put into words, but, on the contrary, too definite.” Similarly, Victor Hugo asserted, “Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and that which cannot remain silent.” More simply, Hans Christian Andersen said, “Where words fail, music speaks.” However, the capacity for a person to understand what a given piece of music has to communicate will depend upon that person’s comprehension of and fluency in its particular language; someone brought up on Western musical idioms will not immediately grasp the expressive import of Indian ragas, and vice-versa.
Since God is the God of order and not of confusion, the creation of music (indeed, of all art) in a proper sense must be an orderly activity, ultimately directed to his praise and glory.
This intense affective capacity for emotional meaning—to express, convey, and arouse emotional and intuitive responses—is what makes music such an important means for communication. It can trigger, heighten, or reduce feelings of love, joy, peace, longing, anger, or sorrow; it can stimulate energy or induce lassitude, focus or distract attention. Music thereby has the capacity profoundly to shape human moral character. On the one hand, we have the ability to arouse or forfend particular passions by the choice of the music we listen to, both on particular occasions and more habitually. On the other hand, precisely because music reaches and affects aspects of our being beyond our rational control, we must be vigilant about not exposing ourselves to hearing music that either may arouse sinful passions, or else arouse licit passions in inappropriate circumstances. The senses have a power that can overrule reason; while Eve was tempted to sin by the deceitful words of Satan, her doom was sealed when she gazed on the forbidden fruit and found the sight enticing. To the ancient Christian principle of exercising “custody of the eyes” and averting our gaze from sights that arouse lust, gluttony, and greed, we should add one of “custody of the ears” with respect to similarly inappropriate speech and music. Against contemporary secular culture’s siren song of indiscriminate diversity and openness to every influence, we must “let all things be done to edification.”
A consideration of the effects of the Fall upon man’s nature is helpful for understanding the ability of music to affect us, both positively and negatively. Per classical orthodox theology, God as a being is a singular unity “without parts or passions,” but he created man as an integrated compound unity of material body and spiritual soul. In accordance with the broadly Reformed tradition,the soul is traditionally analyzed into three distinct faculties: the mind, the will, and the appetites (i.e., desires). God designed these to work in harmonious coordination in a descending hierarchy: The mind by the activity of right reason is to direct the will to obedience, and the will in turn to direct the appetites to their proper ends. In the Fall, however, the will was perverted to disobedience to God by the misuse of reason in order to gratify a misdirected appetite for illicit knowledge and power. Consequently, the three faculties became dis-integrated in post-Fall man, with the appetites and the will usurping the role of the mind in governing the conduct of man: the more depraved the appetites, the more corrupted the will and the more darkened the rational understanding.
Hence the power of music: while as a human art produced by deliberate design it addresses the rational mind with respect to its formal structure and material content, its effects on the human soul go beyond the mind to stimulate and influence the appetites and passions, either for good or for ill. Consequently, there is no such thing as music that is mere entertainment; as with speech, every musical word that we admit through the portals of our ears enters more deeply into our entire beings, to direct them more toward or further away from God. Music has a unique capacity to ennoble or debase the soul by shaping our emotional character and responses, and the inclinations of the will. Thus the hearing of all music, like that of all speech, can profoundly shape moral character in its disposition for good or for ill.
How then should Christians listen redemptively to music, and to what kinds of music should they listen or not listen? Here are some general suggestions for principles to follow.
First, make a conscious effort to judge the moral character of a piece of music. This is probably far harder for most people to do than it is for them to judge the moral character of a piece of literature, a painting, or a sculpture, because music is far more abstract than verbal or written speech or visual representation. Here, one must ask questions such as, “What emotions, sensations, and thoughts is this piece of music designed to stimulate or address? Are those intrinsically beneficial or injurious to one’s spiritual health? Even if it is morally unobjectionable in content, would it be spiritually beneficial or injurious for me to listen to this piece of music at this time, in my current circumstances?” For example, music that fosters mental and emotional agitation is contrary to the gospel command to cultivate peace in our hearts. And, while it is not wrong per se to listen to music that is sad or tragic, it is wrong to listen to it if one is in a deeply depressive state that such music would exacerbate. One also should not listen to music that distracts from concentration on more important obligations. To all things there is a proper time and place.
Second, work to select music of good quality. Just as you should not subsist on a diet of “junk” food or read trashy romance novels, look for music that is substantial, not just ephemeral “ear candy” that offers only immediate and shallow sensory gratification, feeding what C. S. Lewis termed “the natural man’s instinctive hatred of excellence.” Substantial music will engage and exercise the mind as well as the senses; like good books and good food, it will require time to be savored and digested. (Excellent “light” music may be enjoyed in the manner as well-crafted light verse or a delicious dessert, as a glory and delight of God’s created order.) Also, truly good music will have the capacity to move the soul positively in all its aspects; compositions that are mere intellectual constructs, with little or no capacity to affect the passions, are failures. In songs and other music that sets words, one must also assess whether there is a proper fit between the two. Because music and words have their own respective, autonomous properties for communicating meaning, certain pairings of words and music will be better or worse than others, as merely pairing the two cannot change the essential character of either one. An obscene text cannot be sanctified by singing it to a Christian hymn tune, nor can a violent piece of music be made Christian by setting a text of Scripture to it.
Third, one should strive to select music that is genuinely beautiful. C. S.Lewis famously wrote that love “is something far more stern and splendid than mere kindness”; so too the truly beautiful is something far more stern and splendid than mere prettiness. Rather, Christians must keep in mind the psalmist’s “beauty of holiness”as an ultimate ideal—the beauty of what is separate from what is ordinary and profane, and is raised to an exalted level of excellence with transformative power for good. Rightly understood and applied, the ancient triad of values for excellence—the true, the good, and the beautiful—is helpful here. Truly beautiful works of art need not be cheerful, optimistic, or tuneful. Like the Scriptures, they can frankly and unsparingly present us with the painful, the grievous, the tragic, the ugly, and even the unabashedly evil. But the Scriptures do not simply leave us there. All of the ills and evils of the creation are always portrayed against the infinitely greater context of the light of God’s glory, goodness, and purposes. They also are portrayed truly—not just in accuracy of detailed description, but infinitely more importantly in the light of God’s moral judgment upon and disposition of them. (The incomprehensible horror of the crucifixion is paradoxically also one of great beauty in its manifesting of the fullness of the love of God for sinful mankind. And so, human arts have portrayed this event by means of great beauty, not ugliness.) This standard also applies to pieces of music. If they voice or portray grief, despair, tragedy, or evil, do they do so honestly as such, or else deceptively by glorifying or wallowing in them? (One may watch a documentary about Auschwitz in order to understand the workings and scope of its evils, but not to gratify a morbid curiosity of seeing how its victims were killed.) In short, if apiece of music, or of any art, evokes or portrays the evils of a fallen world, does it do so in ways conformable to God’s judgments and a larger redemptive context?
Fourth, seek excellence in musical performance as well. This is to some degree contextual; expectations should be appropriate, and charity in judgment exercised. At the same time, Christians must reject the modern mindset of aesthetic relativism, which asserts that all aesthetic judgments are merely subjective assertions of personal tastes and prejudices. Jesus’ command in Matthew 5:48 for his followers to be “perfect” (teleioi, also meaning “mature” and “complete”) after the pattern of the Father in heaven, and Paul’s exhortation in 2 Corinthians 8:7, are injunctions to seek and strive for excellence in all things. At the same time, the manifold diversity of the splendors of God’s creation also should lead us to cultivate a breadth of appreciation for different types of excellencies. Different performers may play or sing a given piece of music in widely differing interpretations, each of which illuminates the piece in a distinctive way, without one being better or worse than another, though one may have a personal preference for one or another.
Fifth, we need to reclaim and cultivate a proper notion of leisure.Christians are of course well aware of the biblical commandments for work and rest alike, and good music has a constructive role to play in both spheres. But too many people have been beguiled by a false notion of relaxation as a kind of mindlessness, in which one enjoys sensory gratification with little or no mental effort, the latter being seen as “work.” Instead, a proper conception of leisure is of turning to an activity that engages and stimulates the mind in a different way, providing invigoration by mental cross-fertilization. Music has a uniquely powerful capacity for such mental renewal, especially if one actively sings or plays a musical instrument rather than just passively listens to recordings. Participating even in amateur choirs or instrumental groups offers opportunities for Christian fellowship, evangelization of non-believers, and occasions to offer thanks, praise, and glory to God.
This last point means that music also has an inherently apologetical function. The beauty of good music sets forth the beauty and goodness of the character of God. Man did not create beauty; he only apprehends the beauty that God created for his enjoyment and spiritual elevation. Nor did man decide of himself what is or is not beautiful; the cosmos as God’s purposively structured creation has intrinsic standards (such as the classic triad of order, clarity, and harmony) for rightly discerning what is or is not beautiful. The composing and performing of music are two means by which man, in a derivative and secondary manner, imitates the original creative activity of God. Music also offers a means for offering God worship and praise that goes beyond ordinary speech; in the famous words of Augustine of Hippo, “He who sings prays twice.” A good musical setting serves to fix a passage of Scripture or a hymn text in the memory more quickly and firmly than does straightforward memorization. Likewise, the means that music provides for expressing the most profound joys and sorrows, for taking rest and for constructive release of energy, is a further testament to God’s providential care for man.
In sum, Christians should take music far more seriously than they often do. It should be received as a divine gift, created for the edification as well as the pleasure of man, as a means when rightly used for the glorification of God and the shaping of the soul of man. At the same time, we must also ponder much more deeply how, in a fallen creation, music is not morally neutral, and when wrongly used can further man’s depravity instead of fostering that which is good, given its profound power to communicate meaning. In so doing, let us think theologically about the nature and purpose of music for the glorification of God.