Monday, November 14, 2005

Special Music - The science behind the art

Special music - (1) n. music that is special That music is very special to me, therefore it is special music. (2) n. an event in a church service, usually accompanied by muffled groans, stifled laughter, and desperate attempts to find an excuse to leave early (i.e. give self severe paper cut, induce vomiting, etc.) Put away your hymnals, Sister Maggie Lou Harris is going to come and bless us with special music.

Anyone who has spent any significant time in evangelical churches has been through this trial. It typically comes after the offering (do you think that's an accident?) and before the sermon. I don't know if some pastors have a hard time transitioning, or what, but special music always seems to get stuck between those two events.

It always starts innocently enough. The pastor, who I'm pretty sure is trained to introduce even the worst singers in a gracious manner, always makes it sound like it's something to look forward to. Then the sweet old Sister Margaret gets up there, talks about how a certain song reminds her of her dear, late Harold, sheds a tear, and the cassette track starts running. The Southern-western, country gospel music blares out the speakers, and suddenly, a cat gets caught in the garbage disposal. Oh wait, no, that's Sister Margaret's voice! The next 3 and half to 5 minutes are passed by Marge trying to kill that cat that crawled into her windpipe, and the 300 people in the audience trying to escape to their happy place. Some people in the audience shed tears. The song ends, some people clap. The pastor says, "Amen Sister Margaret. God bless you; and you know audience, God still does grow trees, just like Margaret so beautifully reminded us. Fade to prayer. Start sermon.

After years of hearing this...umm...music(?), I think I am ready to walk people through the stages of it step by step.

Stage 1 - Selection of the singer.
This is all done before hand, so the audience is unaware of how much drama actually occurs. There are some people in every church congregation who are legitimately good singers. They often lead choirs, or avoid the choir, because they're afraid they'll become the poster child. These are the people that the music pastor asks to sing special music. Unfortunately, these talented singers only make up about 3-7% of special music in evangelical churches today. The other 93-97% is composed of volunteers. If there were to be psychological studies done on the kind of people who volunteer for such things, I think we would find troubling trends.
1) They are all middle children. Overlooked by their parents, they are desperately trying to seek the attention of their new family, the church family, YOU!!!
2) They tortured animals as children. Something about ripping the hind legs off of a squirrel just really did it for these people. Often, one can hear the screaming a squirrel would make in the special music of these volunteers.
3) They are delusional. Though they are sometimes functional and safe enough to live outside of hospitals and group homes, they still are just one brick shy of a load. They often think that all members of the opposite sex are attracted to them, they seem to remember outscoring everyone on all important tests (despite the fact that their SAT scores landed them a great job at Burger King), and they are good enough to be captain of every sport team.
4) Drama. Everything in their lives means something worth sharing with everyone. From how they felt the Spirit move when they were vacuuming, to their near-death experience while getting a flu shot is interesting and therefore should be shared with as many people as possible as often as possible.
5) When their friends and family say their name, it is usually followed by "God bless him/her (ex. My aunt Linda, God bless her, is going to sing again at church this week.")

Stage 2 - Selecting the song.
In the back corner of all Christian bookstores, there's a little bin where all music goes to die. The original singers of the songs sued to have their voices removed from the tracks, so these cassettes only have music, no vocals, on them. In this bin, you can find musical masterpieces such as "Carman" (umm...not the opera), "Amy Grant", and a whole lot of country-western-southern, and other music that can't be categorized into any existing musical genres.
The volunteer finds a song that fits his/her voice (which of course is all of them), pays his/her $3.95, and heads home to practice.

Stage 3 - The introduction
The volunteer is ready, the cassette is with the sound people, the congregation is assembled, and the plate has been passed. It is time for the pastor to welcome the volunteer up to the front. Pastors, who have such grueling tasks as comforting mourners at funerals, performing baby dedications for kids who don't stand a chance, and performing marriages for couples for whom his own wife is placing bets on the divorce date, are quite accustomed to keeping an upper stiff lip while enduring otherwise uncomfortable ceremonies. With this rich experience behind him, he glides non-chalantly to the pulpit and welcomes up the volunteer. He smiles and tells the congregation they're about to be blessed. Many pastors might have a problem with this at first, because it seems unethical to lie to the audience about such things, but then he remembers the verse in Romans about suffering producing perserverance, hope, and character. He decides, then, in a round-about way, the audience is indeed being blessed.

Stage 4 - The second introduction
Many volunteers feel that they could introduce their song much better than the pastor did, and they are going to prove it. The goal is to make all the women and the more emotional men in the audience cry. If the volunteer knows anyone at all that has died or struggled with cancer in the past 18 months, you can rest assured that their song will be dedicated to that person. Loose translations of Bible verses also spill forth at this time, as well as a heartfelt remembrance of what this song personally means to the volunteer. The audience at this point is at the mercy of the volunteer, unless there is an extremely wise and merciful soundman. Some soundpersons have been known to start music early (not unlike the Academy Awards) so that the volunteer knows it is time to end the speech. Unfortunately, this does not happen often. Courtesy dictates that the audience must pay attention during this speech so they can have something to comment on afterwards. Also, if you are a woman or a particularly emotional man, it's best to go ahead and start crying. That way the volunteer will be satisfied.

Stage 5 - Start the music, Take 1
The music starts. The volunteer makes a confused look and asks the sound guy if it's on the right mode. After a series of fast-forwarding and rewinding, the tape goes right back to where it was originally, but the volunteer is satisfied with air time. Courtesy dictates that the audience should exude a mild form of church laughter.

Stage 6 - Start the music, Take 2
Music starts. Volunteer misses cue, laughs, and apologizes. Audience follows same courtesy rules as Take 1.

Stage 7 - Start the music, Take 3
Success. Before the actual singing starts, though, the volunteer might ask you, the audience, to clap hands to the rhythm. Humor him. You can stop once the singing starts. And then the singing starts. Since they are a volunteer and not an actual good singer, you can expect this to be painful. I think Johnathan Edwards once said that when he was in pain, he liked to consider how hot the fires of hell are. This replaced his temporal pain with gratefulness. This may be a helpful hint for you, the audience. As a respectable member of the audience, you have to completely hide all evidence that you are in agony. Ladies, I suggest that you do not wear open-toed shoes to church services where special music may occur. This will allow you to curl your toes with no one being any wiser. Courtesy dictates that adults pretend not to notice the silent roar of laughter from the jr. high group. Women are to smile graciously at the singer while looking toward the front (though not making direct eye contact). Men are to look down or away in a contemplative manner, and the elders are expected to add an "amen" or "hallelujah" as appropriate. This is a good time to think about things that you need to do. What you're going to cook when you get home, your grocery list, how hot hell is, whatever you have to think about to take your mind off the pain. It typically doesn't last more than 5 minutes. If the volunteer hits a bad note, the concerned congregant might throw in a well-timed cough or sneeze to help cover the blunder. It is not a bad idea to decide in advance who should have a cold each week at church.

Stage 8 - The Conclusion
The volunteer will try to hit an impossibly high note. DO NOT CRINGE. It is very rude. At this point, all congregants are permitted to say amen or hallelujah. This may help cover the sound of the false note. Clapping ettiquette varies from church to church. Some churches never clap. Do not clap in a non-clapping church. Simply say "amen". Some churches always clap. You have to clap in churches like these, or the volunteer will notice. In my home church, there's an unwritten rule that we only clap for the bad singers. It's kind of our way of adding to their delusion. The good singers do not need or expect an applause. The volunteers, because of their special personalities, might hurt someone or continue singing (not mutually exclusive) without a proper applause in a church that sometimes applauds. When in doubt, a muffled "amen" is always appropriate.

Stage 9 - The Recovery
The pastor, being a true steward of grace, had to listen to at least one key line of the song. This way, before his prayer, he can say, "Thank you [insert name of volunteer], that was lovely; and it is true that Jesus loves you no matter who takes off with your pick-up truck. Dear Heavenly Father..."

Stage 10 - After the service
This is an important but often-overlooked part of the service. Many people have trouble looking the volunteer in the face, but you need to. This is a good opportunity to practice your funeral face. That reverent smile that you give the deceased's family is perfect for the volunteer. This way you don't actually have to say anything. The delusional volunteer will interpret this as being too impressed to actually talk to him/her. If you are a friend of the volunteer, you have to say something. It's your duty as a friend. If the volunteer is a woman, it's always a safe bet to compliment her physical appearance. "Sister Gertrude, your hat was just beautiful on you up there. It matched your brooch so well." If the volunteer was a man, you need to talk about the lyrics. Even if you didn't actually hear the lyrics, there are some general goals of all special music songs. They are all supposed to be touching, they are all supposed to be speaking right to your own heart, and they are all supposed to be absolutely true. Saying any of those three will work just fine, though I don't suggest that you use all 3. Save some for your neighbor. Also, make sure you mention something about their introduction. For example (God bless your poor gramma's soul. How long has it been since she's gone to be with the Lord now?). For extra points, blame the sound people for all the technical difficulties.

Special music is kind of like vomiting. Most people have to deal with it; it's hardly ever pleasant; and a tasteful person must know how to deal with it appropriately. Armed with good courtesy and good fake facial expressions, though, we can all learn to get through it together.

God be with us all, friends.

5 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Mildy caustic, unnecessarily harsh. Thanks for uplifting the church.

1:34 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

It's 2006 - how about an update?!

2:44 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Andy, you never cease to make me laugh! My dad was a music minister while I was growing up and although he tried to avoid the "special" special music singer, every once in a while one creeped in. Anyway, thanks for making me smile :-)

3:51 PM  
Blogger dumples said...

I know this is late, but Andy, that was hillarious!

12:34 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I have to say I am from your home church and I can't believe you woudl say such things about Sister Margret! :)

I suppose this entry bears your usual wit and cynicism. You were perhaps a little overly sardonic, but nonetheless hilarious.

11:30 PM  

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