by Kieran Fitzsimons
Editorial Introduction Over the past twenty years or so we have become increasingly aware of the part played by human sexuality in our understanding of the dynamics of church life. In this piece by Kieran we are invited to think about music within the life of the Church and the way it too affects all of us at a primal level. Recognising this power of music in church settings is the key to understanding and, when necessary, neutralising some of the destructive passions aroused by differing musical styles (and different styles of singing and playing). In this way music can be released to play its part in enriching the act of worship and bringing us closer to the divine.
1. I’m a retired school music teacher and cathedral musician. For 20 years I’ve been using recent study and research into how music affects people – such work has profound implications for music in education and in the Church. I’ve also been struck by what Stephen Parsons and Fiona Gardner (among others) have written recently about issues of power and control in the Church, manifest in horrible sexual deviancy.
2. I believe that there are connections here, because unhealthy appetites for power and control are seen in music too – I’ll outline two real examples. Also there’s the same tendency towards institutional ‘cover-up’ and what I call ‘polishing the outside of the vessel’ (Matt 23) when wrong is done in either context – Safeguarding or music.
3. I’ve known many churches where clergy (‘high’ and ‘low’ alike) wanted to control music and musicians in what Fiona calls ‘asymmetrical’ relationships. One ‘high’ vicar got through six organists in ten years and tried to ‘micro-manage’ a professional musician by very detailed instructions on how to use the organ. She complained to the bishop, who supported her and told the vicar to stop it. He didn’t. Other organists got the same detailed instructions but now marked ‘confidential’.
4. Another vicar, very ‘low’ (his ‘Con Evo’ church was growing in numbers, especially attracting students), also got through organists – I was ‘organist 3 of 4’ in six years. He turned against each one, and his curate (who did appreciate music) said on record that he’d had to ‘intercede’ for each – there was false accusation. We might say ‘faults on both sides’, but remarkably the young man before me was both a good musician and a sincere ‘Con Evo’ – pew bible open during readings in the service, and so on. Even that didn’t satisfy the vicar. He used the pejorative term ‘emotional’ about anyone whose views didn’t suit him but always sang very loudly – the way people do at football matches. I felt sure that this showed an emotional need, but I didn’t know what it was.
5. We need to ask how and why such things happen, irrespective of ‘high’, ‘low’, or any other Church identity. Music (like sex) has primal influence. Our understanding of this, and of people’s musical development, is transformed by new methods for detecting the response to music of very young babies. An unborn baby’s hearing is fully developed by about half-way through gestation, so when Mum plays her choice of music, the baby hears it too. Newborn babies respond more to that music than to other sounds. Such insights are not new; wise people (especially mothers) have known them intuitively for perhaps thousands of years. Now science backs them up.
6. Babies are more sensitive to melodic patterns than to pitch itself. If a familiar ‘tune’ is played, moved up or down by a few semitones, the baby is comfortable; but if the set of intervals itself is changed there can be a strong reaction. Composers handling their melodic material know many techniques (e.g. repetition, sequence, and development) which help to make a piece of music effective; now we can start to see how and why.
7. Some non-Western cultures or societies show much more awareness than ours of ordinary people’s musical potential. In the early 1950s, American researchers (John Messenger et al.) spent time with the Anang Ibibo tribe in Nigeria and were amazed. All the tribespeople, including small children, knew a huge range of traditional songs and dance routines. The researchers couldn’t discuss ‘non-musical’ (or ‘tone-deaf’) people, because the Anang language had no equivalent concept – I hope it still hasn’t.
8. That American research was published in 1958, but I only read about it 50 years later in a new book, Psychology for Musicians (Lehmann, Sloboda, and Woody, 2007). Perhaps it was neglected because at first there wasn’t ‘hard science’ to back it up – now there is. I’ve seen it cited in other places since. It may be worth mentioning that John Sloboda is an emeritus professor at Guildhall School of Music and Drama, and was previously Professor of Psychology at Keele University – an unusual ‘trajectory’. He has contributed to ‘the literature’ on Church music.
9. Rev. John L Bell, of the Iona Community, writes about ‘vocal disenfranchisement’ (The Singing Thing, 2 volumes, 2000 and 2007). I believe him that this is a largely European – and especially British – problem. As many as one in four British adults believe that they can’t sing, always because they were told this early in life by someone whose opinion they trusted.
10. All of the above strongly suggests that if our development (emotional, sexual, or musical) hasn’t been healthy in early life, seemingly irrational adult behaviour may result – in the examples I’ve given, a ‘high’ vicar defying his own bishop, and a ‘low’ one turning against a sincere Evangelical musician. The second, as I found out later (too late), had been brought up in a strict religious sect, in whose services women had to sit apart from men. Perhaps not surprisingly, both vicars (‘high’ and ‘low’) had a restrictive view of what females could do in the Church.
11. These examples may show resentment – what Stephen calls envy leading to ‘festering jealousy’. It might become disguised, even hidden beneath consciousness. Of course, such insight is from recent study, and may be news to many church officials – especially the older and more influential ones. It wasn’t in their own study or training.
12. I’m keen to try and spread more modern awareness, and to contribute to better understanding of how Church music affects us all – in whatever kind of church. That would also mean challenging the false conflation of good music with ‘privilege’ – and the myth of ‘non-musical’ people. I don’t think that such a challenge would be ‘dumbing down’. I respect capable, sincere cathedral music colleagues, but my experience in schools is that ordinary children can be drawn up to high expectations. This is also possible with adults – though in a way ‘the younger the better’.
13. If readers are interested, I can present some ‘Case Studies’ more fully. During a bit of university research in late 2001 I consulted Robin Rees, whose 1991 PhD and 1993 book Weary And Ill at Ease had included three such studies of churches with problems and conflict about music. Robin concluded each ‘case’ with questions which an individual reader, or a group, might consider and discuss – something which we could potentially do via the ‘blog’, helped by the scientifically-informed understanding now available to us. Knowing the ‘how and why’ of unwelcome past issues may help us to improve on them.
Kieran Fitzsimons
This is absolutely fascinating! Only the other day, I was discussing with a fellow attendee at the book launch of “When the Music Fades” (Lucy Sixsmith) ideas in the same realm. For me, from a family steeped in music from birth, I was explaining how I now largely avoid music altogether, for the psychological impact it has on me.
Background in brief reverse order: “constructive” exit from a charismatic evangelical church where I’d served as a band vocalist for many years. Deeply impacted by the scandals at New Wine and Soul Survivor. Ex conevo central London. Ex strict conevo upbringing northeast England. Late parents heavily involved in politics of the church. Regular choir member til I left for university. No “wooziness” allowed. High emotion, but all repressed.
And I’m wondering if this is the same KF who might have served us way back then? If so, I’m glad you survived what was undoubtedly an horrendous time.
I’m very interested in reading further, and will make a note to do so. My conversation with fellow attendee included concepts around charismatic songs containing a deliberate sort of “romantic” trigger in them, though this is hardly an appropriate word in worship.
Blessings to you, and thank you for an intriguing blog.
Speaking of romantic triggers, I have a Maranatha praise album from the 70s on which ‘Bring My Body Closer’ was followed by ‘Cause Me to Come’. I’ve always assumed that was naive or ignorant – but possibly not?
Thanks Janet. Do I recall that you used to be at St Michael’s in York? During my time at a difficult ‘Con Evo’ place (mentioned in Steve Lewis’s Comment), I got to know Andrew Maries and liked the genuinely broad music there. The music group, and people learning the organ, were all cared for and nourished – though eventually the organ was moved to another church.
That difficult place of mine used to have a Secretary with a good sense of humour. The odd ‘typo’ would appear on Sundays – e.g. reference not to the ‘pink’ service sheet, but to the ‘punk’ one – the mind boggles, especially with the severe ‘leadership’ there.
Thanks again,
Kieran
Hi Kieran. Yes, I used to be curate at St Michael-le-Belfrey. Andrew Maries was (and I hope is) a gifted musician with a rare ability to lead worship in different musical styles. I too valued the range of music used in worship. Sadly it became rather less diverse.
I would have liked to know your parish secretary! In my former career as a copy editor I kept a notebook of amusing typos. One MS submitted to us described an evangelistic service held in the open air: ‘I looked around the circle of people singing choruses with smiling faces. “They all know they’re going to heave,” I thought.’
What an hilarious juxtaposition Janet! I seem to recall being warned off Maranatha by “Conevo central”, and likely they were right. As perhaps rather a lazy musician in my earlier days, I tended to focus primarily on the melody, and found myself being hooked in by the hook. (This was after I’d left home and shared time with a “Penty” at university). Skilled musicians know how this works. The songs can also invoke a group dynamic, a sort of crowd mentality. “Mass hypnosis” or “hysteria” doesn’t do it justice to explore the concept.
Those of us who have ever “fallen in love” (limerance) will well recognise the pull towards another, originally designed to ensure survival of the species probably, but very strong and often blind to the shortcomings of the recipient.
With charismatic worship, at times I’ve experienced a not dissimilar sensation, with the downside of subsequent experiences never quite matching that original high. Dopamine will be in this mix somewhere and probably close regions in the brain being activated, but I’m a bit out of touch there.
I agree with Kieran about the many good folk (that were in each of the places I attended). Many also suffered of course. Much is done in good faith, however misguided it now appears in retrospect.
Maranatha Music in the early 70s produced some albums of worship music which I still love. Later they became too commercial and shallow. The UK Maranatha organisation is completely different though it shares the same name.
I’ve had both good and bad experiences of charismatic worship and worship music. I’ve known music used to enable, and I’ve seen it used to manipulate and control. It’s such a powerful phenomenon. I understand why you now feel you have to avoid it – I feel the same about some aspects of church – but I hope some day you find yourself again able to use your musical gifts.
I’d have to do some mental work to get back into music. In a similar vein my son was advising me to do the mental work required to start watching football again. This was after I’d foolishly admitted I did care about England winning, but after 30, no, more like 60 years of hurt I couldn’t tolerate any more disappointment! Do I want to do the work to put up with 90 minutes of tedium, endless extra time and the inevitable penalties? Or shall I continue enjoying cricket which I love especially when England’s women are doing so well? Tricky decision that.
Back to music, the keenest moments were harmonising extemporé in a band. Since I haven’t been to physical church for a decade, it’s hard to see how I could step back in. I often doubted my abilities, but now, with more grey hair and wrinkles (such hair that remains) I doubt I’d make up the numbers even as eye candy.
That said, I do allow myself annually, 2 forays into church music: Carols from Kings, on Christmas Eve radio 4, and a day at a festival where a friend invites me. One year Graham Kendrick was leading (not that we care about celebrities) and he was surprisingly good and considerably more crusty than me (no offence intended). Maybe there’s hope yet.
Why not join a secular choir or music group? Could you use your musical gifts in a different context?
Around a couple of years after I left, I was having tea with a former band mate, a bassist, a lovely guy. He’d been sitting in the congregation one evening, not on duty, and realised the band playing had no bass. It dawned on him, that the worship pastor, a young lad imported directly from Soul Survivor, would rather have no bass player at all, than my friend.
I suspected that was because he was over 50, the youth couldn’t likely relate to him. He left too, but joined a different congregation locally.
Friend, not wanting to see my talents go to waste, kindly invited me to join another friend’s covers band for a birthday bash. At the time I wasn’t well enough mentally to do this anyway, although I was grateful for the opportunity.
The set list proved challenging for me. David Bowie, Toto etc. I recognised the music of course. Indeed they were iconic songs, but I couldn’t sing with any passion about Africa in all honesty, nor could I get even close to Bowie’s mindset or original meaning in his songs. It felt disrespectful to attempt to.
As a child I’d been encouraged to disparage “secular” music, and almost literally have only ever done “Christian” based choral or pop/rock.
One thing I discovered in band worship, was that it somehow seemed to go a lot better, sound clearer, harmonise better, when I concentrated on standing before the Lord and imagining Him there and adoring Him. In contrast, just a singing performance didn’t seem to work. That was just me, and obviously others can do this easily.
Part of the work I might have to do is to let myself enjoy other music. Actually I did have a crack at this a couple of years ago, when we went to see ABBA Voyage. It was incredibly good, and I recalled how I’d secretly liked the band as a child, but didn’t feel I was allowed to admit it. This probably sounds very strange to any regular person reading this far in the thread, but our upbringing was verging on cultic in some ways, and it’s taken many decades to extricate myself from its entanglement.
I’m really glad of the Comments from Steve, Janet, and James – and of course grateful to Stephen for allowing my initial piece about music. As I suspected, there’s a lot out there to ‘survive’ in music, as in other aspects of Church life. Stephen’s ‘blog’ is clearly doing good work, exposing things that have too long been hidden – or just not understood.
In this response I’m aware that two commentators have a medical background, and perhaps better understanding than mine – I’m open to correction.
Steve – most recently, there’s nothing ‘strange’ about what you say. Human infants depend totally on their parents – perhaps more than the offspring of other species – and can conceal their authentic feelings so as to please the parents. Because music is so primal, I think Janet’s suggestion makes sense – perhaps try another kind of music-making, and don’t be too hard and fast about ‘secular’ vs ‘sacred’. Frankly our emotions run deeper than that – though you have a point about ‘band worship’ and ‘singing performance’, in any style. Do you know Iona Community songs? They really do address modern issues – I’ll write separately.
James – how interesting about ‘P5’ (approx. English Year 5). Some of my happiest teaching has been with 9- and 10-year-olds. Their ‘Tudors’ topic is a real gift to a musician, teaching about social and religious changes through music of the time. They can cope with complexity (Catholic and Reformed; Tallis and Byrd discreetly remaining Catholic) just as your peer group seemed to with that old clergyman. Age can bring wisdom and insight – I think of John 8, when the woman’s accusers went away beginning with the oldest.
So Steve – there’s nothing wrong with singers and players being over 50! Janet – I see that Andrew Maries (b. 1949) is still active in the ‘Sou-West’, with the same breadth of style. We can all learn from that. As to typos – yes, I collect them too. They’re a bit of a ‘tangent’, and I wouldn’t want us to wander from the crucial music issues (unless others think they’re relevant) – but I’m happy to discuss them and enjoy them! My address is in my 14/7 reply to Steve, if you care to get in touch directly.
Blessings to you all. Thanks again for the Comments.
Ouch. That would have been so painful for your friend.
Your history with music has been unbearably painful too, Steve. I hope some day you’re able to recover your joy in it.
An idea might be to try the Quantum weekly podcast by David Robertson on the WeeFlea blog. There is mix of news, spiritual matters and music. It is often provocative and interesting.
Thank you Steve – great to hear from you. Yes, I’m the same KF as 45 years ago – there aren’t many people who share my name!
I remember your family – kind, highly intelligent, and thoroughly Christian. There were some lovely people in that church (as in most), but in my opinion a warped concept of ‘leadership’. I hope you’ll be able to enjoy music again – we can discuss this, but maybe not publicly in the ‘blog’?
If you’d like to be in touch directly, my email is: KieranFitzsimons@btinternet.com
Thanks again for the welcome ‘Comment’.
Kieran
Aha! That’s brilliant that hear it’s you. I’ll drop you a line
A fascinating reflection. Thanks. Do language, music and maths exist as independent entities, or are they just a human construction: forms of brain fog? I think the spheres of mind, thought, music, maths and language point us to there being a great deal more to the universe than atoms and energy. Music played a huge role in my shift from atheism. I always loved Evensong on Radio 3, even has a materialist and atheist leaning teenager or student. But it never quite wilted my atheism. As a young medic, I went to work as a GP on the Isle of Harris. I was very sceptical about Hebridean evangelicalism, until I had a great Christmas dinner and a large glass of whiskey in a Church run facility. Afterwards there was a time of Gaelic psalm singing. It would shake you to the quick. That was a big milestone on my journey back to Church. I have returned to Evensong after seeing the horrors of fundamentalist evangelicalism. I still fully respect the spirituality of the Gaelic psalm seekers, but the New Wine and charismatic pop groups are no longer my scene at all, after seeing terrible maltreatment of people and cover ups.
Thanks for this, James. Perceptive questions about how music relates to other kinds of thought and experience. In school I always promoted it both in itself and for Curriculum Support, because it connects in holistic ways – to other subjects, and to our deepest feelings.
Many people are inspired by Gaelic psalms – perhaps the ultimate expression of the principle of ‘everyone participating’? Interestingly, Choral Evensong also inspires very many (not just Anglicans), though with almost an opposite ethos – mostly sung by the choir on behalf of everyone.
I’m sure that as a GP you too think in connected (or holistic) ways. There’s room for more discussion here.
Thanks again,
Kieran
I am long retired from the NHS! But ‘holistic’ apologetics rarely feature with some cultist charismatic-evangelical groups. As a child growing up, an elderly Anglican Canon enthralled us with tales of cosmic scale and ordering, plus the unique and amazing dignity of humans. Those P5 classes were impressive. The old Canon told us how Jesus was a totally real historical figure, and each of us had to make a choice about the Lord’s identity and importance. That was a better series of lessons than “turn or burn” in a disco setting.
I like the fact that you have bar numbers on every paragraph!
I love playing music and am eternally grateful to the patient and accepting church musicians who nurtured my emerging mediocre talents with great love and patience. Many of us I suspect have travelled this route into a lifetime’s passion. I work hard to encourage young musicians as much as I can because of this gift of the church to me.
I play music these days mainly for pleasure in local venues having discovered the joys of jazz and improvisation as I’ve grown older. I also use music as a joyful means of promoting wellbeing through community activity. I occasionally still play for worship but increasingly I feel uncomfortable, a disconnect, like I don’t really fit in any more. I simply don’t feel this in the other music I do.
I led a couple of extremely eclectic gigs for national church gatherings in recent years and it left me highly ambivalent as to whether playing for worship is for me any more. Maybe it was me and my strong feeling of imposter syndrome in that context of working with a massively diverse bunch of musicians playing for a very broad sweep of Christian traditions, but I guess I came away feeling rather disturbed by how music in worship can be a place of so much division and hurt, while simultaneously able to transport us into a greater sense of togetherness in the songs we share in common.
Music in worship can be very accomplished and beautiful, but at the same time be the most cliquey badge of belonging to a particular subgroup of believers with a whole range of associated behaviour patterns that go with it. Music in worship can also trigger unwelcome or repressed responses far quicker, in my experience, than anything else other than silence in worship. As with all things faithful let’s handle these fragile gifts with care, wisdom and generosity.
Thank you, ‘Anglican in Exile’. Sorry about the paragraph numbers – I should have deleted them! I don’t know your preferred style of Church music, but I too was helped with patience as a young man, and I try to remember that.
Yes, music is great for wellbeing and community, but also we can all feel a ‘disconnect’. Maybe that’s not always bad. As you say, cliquey subgroups have their own behaviour patterns – and vocabulary (I hate being accused of ‘leading’ a choir!). Good ‘serious’ music can be falsely conflated with snobbery and ‘privilege’; on the other hand British music groups can sing lighter music in a false ‘mid-Atlantic’ accent. A ‘different’ point of view is often healthy and thought-provoking. Sheep-like conformity can lead to abuse such as in the infamous “Nine O’Clock Service”.
We often have to be eclectic these days. Different styles or traditions can try to claim the ‘moral high ground’, but as a mature Music student I assisted at a modern Anglo-Catholic church where a good music group and a pipe organ were often used in the same service. It can be done. You and Stephen both highlight the need for ‘generosity’. We need the ‘generosity to give’ but also the ‘generosity to accept’ – and that in turn needs understanding. I think modern insights and open discussion can only help. Thanks again.
Thank you for this Kieran I found it very interesting.
Yes I had a similar upbringing being brought up by high brow musicians as parents.
I realise now that not only the church politics and superstitions influenced and disturbed me but the one love of mine throughout my life as well — church music from Byrd to Rutter. Music can be used to manipulate us more than we actually realise. It took me a long time to recover from all that I trusted in my Christian life. Now I rarely listen to or play any music, occasionally Bach or newish composers like Lauredson and meditative sounds.
Thanks Margaret. Janet Fife has made some good suggestions in response to Steve Lewis – perhaps try a different kind of music-making? Steve and I are both survivors of a controlling, manipulative ‘leadership’. For 20+ years I’ve found school music more worthwhile than some of the churches where I’ve worked.
Many people find Bach or Mozart helpful. Yes, some modern composers use techniques (e.g. minimalism) in which repetition can help us meditate. Don’t give up!