Philip Hilton writes,

I must say that I’m just elaborating on and spinning what Nick said about Plato. He said some decidedly negative things about Platonic philosophy, so I’m going to fess up to his critiques and point out some really positive things about Plato so that you get a two sided view. It was written late at night. So forgive me, for I knew not what I did.

Mr. Embrey first commented on Plato’s theory of ideals and Plato’s god. To understand the theory of ideals properly, you must realize that absent any divine revelation, Plato did the best he could to imagine a beginning. His theory of the ‘beginning’ involves three objects – the Demiurge, i.e, God, the Forms, and Matter. The Demiurge tries to create a perfect world, according to what he sees in the forms, but the matter refuses to accept the form, and hence this world is imperfect. This is, if you will, a similar phenomenon to what Leon Kass purports to find in Genesis, when he says that x & x verse indicates the resistance of earth to God’s creation.

That is Plato’s way of explaining the origins of the universe and of evil – I daresay it’s as reasonable and irrefutable as you could think up. The only weakness of it, perhaps, is the concept of the Forms, or the ideals. The idea of Forms is under heavy attack from Embrey & Co., for various reasons. The most important, however, is that it eventually becomes ridiculous. What, for instance, is the Form of an Ice Cream? Is it, in fact, Ice Creamness? But according to science, that comes down to molecules. And since the whole is equal to the parts, ultimately, we need only have Forms of molecules. Which is ridiculous.

This is actually a serious problem for epistemology…it has something to do with universals and Kant – and Bertrand Russell says it much better than I do.

However, luckily for him, in light of Mr. Embrey’s criticism, Plato’s contributions were not merely limited to such theoretical areas as Forms, but also to more concrete areas. His principle idea was a logical one: the idea of the elenchus. The elenchus is the famous “Socratic dialogue”, a tool rather for inducing thought than for giving answers. Aristotle, of course, decided that this was merely a second-rate tool, preferring his own system of syllogism, deduction and induction.

Thus, most of Plato’s dialogues, especially those considered his ‘early’ ones, are dedicated not to providing solutions, but to stimulating thought – the dialogue often ends inconclusively, when one party is forced to abdicate the debate on account of time.

Another of Plato’s key theories was his theory of government. He thought that the government of the State should be on the same principle as the government of the individual – and vice versa, that the management of the individual is similar in essence to the management of the state. Thus, for instance, he imagines a perfect state, and then draws conclusions about the perfect individual from the perfect state.

Moreover, Plato’s contributions to philosophy are greatly enhanced by the fact that he was originally trained to write comedies – thus, his dialogues are extremely lively, and his visionary analogies are as famous as his thought. The Allegory of the Cave, for instance, in the Republic, has come to be of immense influence for the dream that lies behind it. The dream of philosophy – to ascend to the fountain of truth.

In short, philosophy is a series of footnotes to Plato. Plato set the tone not only for the dreams and aspirations of philosophers for the time to come, but also frequently would set forth all the logical positions which would be argued about a given point. C.f Euthyphro & holiness. His elenchus is very frequently used – even where Plato’s philosophy is criticized, his method of elenchus is often used; where his method is not used, no one can be failed to be moved by his dreams for philosophy; and a philosopher who does not search for the dream of wisdom is no philosopher at all.

Hannah Roorda writes:

Well, despite my valiant efforts to keep this blog neat and tidy, to not post when someone else is posting, to write my entry before midnight (*cough*Nick*cough*) despite the fact that I went so far as to type my post up the night before, despite the fact that I rose early (my clock gives me 6:52 AM) you all are going to have to suffer TWO posts on one day, because I simply cannot wait any longer. And what’s more, I have to totally repost this in order for my post to appear as newer than Nick’s. Let me tell you, I totally suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. Please enjoy.

I may have mentioned it once before, but I have been very involved in the music my church. We sing a variety of traditional-style hymns, a couple of more modern pieces (but still not typical choruses) and Psalms, Psalms, Psalms (some of which we are beginning to chant). The instruments we have used in our worship services include the piano, tuba, trumpet, French horn, violin, guitar, and flute. Not a terribly eclectic range, but those are the musicians we have had in our congregation.

Selecting music for a church to sing is very, very difficult. There are a lot of less-than intelligent hymns out there with with-less than appropriate tunes. It can be a very frustrating experience, trying to plan music for a worship service. You pick out a hymn because you like the words– only to discover that the tune is one of those 18th-century gallopers, and so are all the other tunes to that meter. So you find a tune you like?—?but the words look something like this:

“The world is bright with the joyous saints
Who love to do Jesus’ will.
You can meet them in school, or
In lanes, or at sea,
In church, or in trains, or in shops, or at tea,
For the saints of God are just folk like me,
And I mean to be one too.”
(excerpted from “I Sing a Song of the Saints of God” by Lesbia Scott)

The author of the hymn has the right idea, theologically, sort of… but she has little poetic skill, and makes the theology sound corny; certainly not appropriate for Lord’s Day worship. (I hope I have not just insulted anyone’s favorite hymn. I had not heard of this one until a few years ago at my uncle’s church, and my entire family was stifling giggles in our pew throughout the course of the hymn. Another favorite line includes the words “and one was slain by a fierce wild beast”. Not exactly the greatest way to honor the martyrs.)

A much better hymn to honor the saints is “For All the Saints”. The words were written by William How, and set to the tune Sine Nomine (Latin scholars, you may be amused) by Ralph Vaughan Williams, a great English composer. The words are glorious, the tune is beautiful, and it is as fitting a musical tribute as you can find for All Saints’ Day. I would like to share with you the full text on this site, but here is the midi version of the tune (which is actually not too terrible for a midi) and here is a downloadable version of the score.

For all the saints, who from their labors rest,
Who Thee by faith before the world confessed,
Thy Name, O Jesus, be forever blessed.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

Thou wast their Rock, their Fortress and their Might;
Thou, Lord, their Captain in the well fought fight;
Thou, in the darkness drear, their one true Light.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

For the Apostles’ glorious company,
Who bearing forth the Cross o’er land and sea,
Shook all the mighty world, we sing to Thee:
Alleluia, Alleluia!

For the Evangelists, by whose blest word,
Like fourfold streams, the garden of the Lord,
Is fair and fruitful, be Thy Name adored.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

For Martyrs, who with rapture kindled eye,
Saw the bright crown descending from the sky,
And seeing, grasped it, Thee we glorify.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

O blest communion, fellowship divine!
We feebly struggle, they in glory shine;
All are one in Thee, for all are Thine.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

O may Thy soldiers, faithful, true and bold,
Fight as the saints who nobly fought of old,
And win with them the victor’s crown of gold.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

And when the strife is fierce, the warfare long,
Steals on the ear the distant triumph song,
And hearts are brave, again, and arms are strong.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

The golden evening brightens in the west;
Soon, soon to faithful warriors comes their rest;
Sweet is the calm of paradise the blessed.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

But lo! there breaks a yet more glorious day;
The saints triumphant rise in bright array;
The King of glory passes on His way.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

From earth’s wide bounds, from ocean’s farthest coast,
Through gates of pearl streams in the countless host,
And singing to Father, Son and Holy Ghost:
Alleluia, Alleluia!

Now, it may seem like it goes on forever, but there is no need to sing it all in one part– split it up and sing it as two hymns in one service. It is certainly an excellent hymn in both words and tune, and it is appropriately emotionally moving.

But what I’m really trying to get at is that music selection for churches is very difficult. There are a lot of great hymns, but you have to be very discerning when choosing which hymns to sing, and more often than not, you find a hymn you consider to be great– and then realize your congregation doesn’t have the musical skill or good taste to understand it. And let me tell you?—?congregations have a lot of opinions about what they’re singing! At one point I was getting very frustrated, but then I was greatly blessed to find this quote from C. S. Lewis:

“There are two musical situations on which I think we can be confident that a blessing rests. One is where a priest or and organist, himself a man of trained and delicate taste, humbly and charitably sacrifices his own (aesthetically right) desires and gives the people humble and coarser fare than he would wish, in a belief (even as it may be, the erroneous belief) that he can thus bring them to God. The other is where the stupid and unmusical layman humbly and patiently, and above all silently, listens to music which cannot, or cannot fully, appreciate, in the belief that it somehow glorifies God, and that if it does not edify him this must be his own defect. Neither such a High Brow nor such a Low Brow can be far out of the way. To both, Church Music will have been a means of grace: not the music they have liked, but the music they have disliked. They have bother offered, sacrificed, their taste in the fullest sense. But where the musician is filled with the pride of skill or the virus of emulation and looks with contempt on the unappreciative congregation, or where the unmusical, complacently entrenched in their own ignorance and conservatism, look with the restless and resentful hostility of an inferiority complex on all who would try to improve their taste– there, we may be sure, all that both offer is unblessed and the spirit that moves them is not the Holy Ghost.

These highly general reflections will not, I fear, be of much practical use to any priest or organist in devising a working compromise for a particular church. The most they can hope to do is suggest that the problem is never a merely musical one. Where both the choir and the congregation are spiritually on the right road no insurmountable difficulties will occur. Discrepancies of taste and capacity will, indeed, provide matter for mutual charity and humility.”

C. S. Lewis, Christian Reflections, “On Church Music” (1949) para. 9-10, pp. 96-97

Sam Harrison writes:

Yes, a contribution! As usual, “summer break” didn’t turn out to be much of a break as far as free time was concerned, but these are some of my collected thoughts from the past few weeks. Also, I know it isn’t my day to post, but I guessed Hannah wouldn’t be posting, and since I’ll be away from the comp on Friday, I thought I’d go ahead. Anyway, enjoy and criticize mercilessly.

Calamities, as a rule, are always interpreted as chastisement from on high. I’ve heard hurricanes, tsunamis, the Holocaust, wars, etc. explained as God’s punishment for the sins of our time. This view of God’s role in the world is well expressed by Eliphaz in Job: “I have seen those who work iniquity, and sow sorrows, and reap them, perishing by the blast of God, and consumed by the spirit of his wrath.”

I believe we can all agree on the definition of sin/evil as that which is at variance with God. Therefore, calamity to punish sin is punishment for diverging from God’s will. In other words, a punishment for exercising our free will.

A tyrant, by its initial definition, was just a ruler who seized power. However, after the ideas of democracy became more prevalent, tyrant came to denote a self-serving ruler who utilized executions, fines, imprisonments, exiles and other punishments to preserve his control of the people. Plutarch distinguished Tyrants and Kings as ruling by the fear and love of their people respectively.

If we are to propose that these calamities are divine chastisements, as Eliphaz does in Job, then we ought not to call Christ our King, but rather our Tyrant, purely to maintain correct word usage. But anyway, that’s just an appeal to pathos, not an argument. And this vein isn’t my main point, because Job says almost exactly the same thing, but I’m using as an introduction.

Now, God being essentially the summation of perfection and being, and evil being a lack of perfection, it is impossible that anything issuing from God could be evil. Therefore, in these terms, it is impossible that he would inflict calamities meant to punish those who chose to oppose him. Bible quotes: “Whom the Lord loves He corrects, and chastises every son whom He receives;” Proverbs 3:12; “Whom I love I rebuke and chasten;” Revelation 3:19. It would appear, then, that any chastisement is not punishment, but a gift. And since it issues from God, suffering, then, is a good. This is the same conclusion that the book of Job reaches: suffering is a grace from God, to help increase the virtue of the just.

I’m finally coming to my main point: the nature of hell. Ultimately, we know that souls will end up in one of two places: heaven or hell. The main thing to remember is that this will be for all eternity—more on eternity in a bit. In these terms, our life on earth is a period for us to choose between God, and un-God. By choosing virtue, we chose to aspire to perfection, and by choosing vice, we choose to pursue lack of perfection.

God of course, desires our love. This love is impossible if it is compulsory, and so we’re given this period to choose. By the way, I’m going from one point to another without proving each individual point, because I think these points are generally accepted tenets of Christianity; they’re nothing new. I don’t know about Calvinists, I’d have to double check, but I think most Christian faiths believe that God loves each and every person with infinite, complete love. His love is so deep and so unselfish that he desires that not a single one be lost, but goes so far that he gives us free will to choose.

With that kind of love, to picture God taking those who chose not to serve, and, in wrath and anger hurling them into eternal torture is somewhat absurd. The book of Job states that suffering is granted to both the just and the evil as a means of aid, because, while they are still alive on earth, there is still time for them to choose God over evil. However, once a soul has entered hell, there is no more chance of it returning to God. Therefore, any suffering inflicted would be revenge, pure and simple. Punishment, as retaliation for an injury, as I’ve disjointedly shown above, is completely incongruous with God’s total perfection of love.

I think I need to say a bit more before I continue about an earlier point: the choosing between God and evil. The best way I can think to put it is to use an example from Plato’s Crito, when Socrates if having the Laws of Athens explain to Crito how he has validated their agreement by remaining in his home city:

SOCR.: ‘Consider then, Socrates,’ the Laws would probably continue, ‘whether it is also true for us to claim that what you are now trying to do to us is not just. Although we have brought you into the world and reared you and educated you, and given you and all your fellow-citizens a share in all the good things at our disposal, nevertheless by the very fact of granting our permission we openly proclaim this principle: that any Athenian, on attaining to manhood and seeing for himself the political organization of the State and its Laws, is permitted, if he is not satisfied with us, to take his property and go away wherever he likes. If anyone of you chooses to go to one of our colonies, supposing that he should not be satisfied with us and the State, or to emigrate to any other country, not one of us Laws hinders or prevents him from going away wherever he likes, without any penalty.’

In the same way, I think we are given our lives as a chance to observe all “the good things at our disposal” that God can give us, and we can, by turning away from love and virtue, choose to give up our citizenship of Heaven. My main point is this: if we acknowledge God as omni-benevolent, and a soul’s entry into Hell as a free choice and final, then the idea of active punishment for that soul is completely ridiculous. The final principle would be this: there are no punishments in hell, only consequences. Just as, if one were to leave Athens for the colonies, he would give up the assurance of laws, freedom, etc. he would not receive a punishment for having given these up. He would not have to deal with punishments, but the immediate consequence of having given these things up, the fact of their absence.

This, I think, is all that Hell consists of. This is not to say that it is pleasant. I think the souls in Hell would have infinitely more pleasure if they were being whipped, scourged, fried, etc. However, the consequence of giving up God and all his gifts is far more terrifying. First, what would they be giving up? All love, all truth, all beauty, all perfection: everything that is good. I don’t even think there would be anything in hell material at all, since the material world, created by God, is therefore good, and of God. Here’s the consequence I propose is endured in Hell: eternal boredom.

Before you start laughing, think about what eternity entails. I thought about it a lot, and when I finally realized what the concept of no end meant, it was kind of terrifying. That’s the only reason men can endure living in evil on earth, because of the short span of our lives, and the reassuring thought that it might end with death. I even thought, for a minute or two, that oblivion, non-existence, would be better than the happiest eternity. But of course, in heaven, I imagine, everything won’t be so Euclidian, and that won’t turn out to be the case.

But then, consider eternity without anything. An immaterial spirit, who has resigned his citizenship of Heaven, and consequently given up truth, love, etc. etc. It’
s hard to realize what agony that would be. ‘Bored’ has a kind of childish connotation with it, something that only happens to someone without any imagination who’s deprived of TV for a few minutes. But after a few thousand years of complete inactivity, wouldn’t they wish that God would fry them with fire and fill them with worms, so they could curse him in spite? But he is all loving, so he would only love them, even though they had repudiated him. And that would be completely unbearable to them. They would wish they could go insane, that they had bodies they could tear and teeth they could grind: they would yearn for suffering, to dilute their agony.

Anyway, that seems to me to be most likely the nature of Hell. It’s expressed pretty well in Matthew: “And the unprofitable servant, cast ye out into the exterior darkness. There shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” In conclusion, there are no punishments, only consequences, and anonymous, you are the blockhead. :D

Hannah Roorda writes:

Today I have a terza rima for you. The rules for terza rima are very simple: Each stanza is three lines long, and the first and last lines rhyme with each other while the middle line contrasts. The following stanza’s first and last lines rhyme with the first stanza’s middle line. So the form is aba-bcb-cdc-efe, etc. You can make a terza rima as long as you like (witness: Dante’s Divine Comedy. Dante is thought to have invented terza rima) but a poem should end with a single line or couplet repeating the rhyme of the middle line of the final stanza.

For example, Robert Frost’s Acquainted With the Night

I have been one acquainted with the night. (a)
I have walked out in rain—and back in rain. (b)
I have outwalked the furthest city light. (a)
I have looked down the saddest city lane. (b)
I have passed by the watchman on his beat (c)
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain. (b)
I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet (c)
When far away an interrupted cry (d)
Came over houses from another street, (c)
But not to call me back or say good-by; (d)
And further still at an unearthly height (e)
One luminary clock against the sky (d)
Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right. (e)
I have been one acquainted with the night. (e)

I’m no Dante or Frost, but I have a few tricks up my sleeve– humorous poetry is more my style.

Terza Rima for Donna Prima
You say that you are not so very great
Your tastes are simple, pure.
But somehow, everything we do, you hate.

It’s not easy being you, I’m sure:
Being idolized by everyone you meet.
For your adoring fans, there is no cure.

I know it must be hard to stay so sweet,
To be so kind and gracious all the while…
And wink at all the ones who kiss your feet.

But why, oh why is it so hard smile
And be kind to us who have to work with you?
Instead of casting us as everything that’s vile.

By day you scream and rant– it’s all that you can do
And then you are an angel on the stage
While I have marks that came from your own shoe.

It’s curious, this great rehearsal rage
It comes from somewhere no one understands
I think it’s time to turn to a new page.

So next time you start to raise your hand
Don’t look at me, I won’t walk in front of it.
In fact, it’s nowhere close to you I’ll stand.

Do you know why? I quit.

Or Worship Most Foul. Just kidding.

I’d like to have some direction, because otherwise I’ll be saying things people have heard already, as if it were something new. I can say nothing original, but I should like to have some definite position to advocate on this issue.

I wouldn’t like anyone to think I’m defending traditional Roman liturgy, or traditional Eastern liturgy, or anything like that. The problem I see quite often there is that they defend their liturgy on the basis that it is traditional, which is never a good way to defend anything. I think tradition, in many cases, gathers dust or produces rust, and that dust needs to be continually swept off, and that rust needs to be scrubbed off, by nothing other than a complete understanding of the why of traditional liturgy.

Some people will go for Heavy Metal in Worship. Other people are greatly offended at this, but this is not as it should be. People should not be offended at this anymore than the person who appreciates the Heavy Metal in Worship is justified in liking the Metal. This is an appeal to individual feeling, individual preference, individual experience, and individual spiritual satisfaction. Getting offended is not just a bad tactic in wooing the other person to your musical taste; getting offended is not justified because it is an appeal to subjectivity, and we cannot appeal to anything subjective. It’s sort of like pinning jelly onto the wall with a nail.

When people complain about the contemporary music in Service, it’s always going to be done (because it’s complaining) appealing to what they’re more comfortable with, what they want more, what they will get more spiritually satisfied with. This will change from person to person and we will not have a peaceful resolution over music – instead, we will have denominational, provincial, separate comfort zones and cultural battles that rage within the Church. Why is music such an important thing? This is a question we all know the answer to – how you worship God is extremely important and personal to people. The goal is to make it both very personal and very universal.

We can’t appeal to subjective standard; what can we appeal to that is objective?

This requires a completely different tone and point of view. The focus here goes off me; it goes away from individuals completely – to God and His Word. The focus of Worship is not us; it is Him. Worship is the glorification of the Most High. It’s more comfortable (for everyone) to wear jeans and a T-shirt to worship God. But not on the Sabbath; not on His Holy Day, not in His Presence. He demands more of us.

This is the fascinating part of worship. In Worship, Christ demands our full homage, but this comes from the fact that Christ is the King of the Universe.

Don’t forget that we are the Queen, so to speak. His Bride. Going into Church is not like going to be spiritually fed alone. That’s Platonic, because we are not only spiritually fed, leaving the body off as something extra. The Bible is about incarnation and bodily things. Our royal blood, our Regality in these meetings with the Presence, is obligatory. Regality on the inside and out.

To define terms immediately would be ideal, and I’ll perhaps do that in the next post (whenever that will be). One can’t really argue or agree with another until terms are defined, so I shall try to do that as soon as possible.

If you are interested in the background on terms like “worship” and “liturgy”, the best place I could point you to (well, one of the best, in my humble opinion) is Gabriel Bertilson’s April and May posts on (respectively) liturgy and worship.

Be it understood Scripture doesn’t monolithically say, “Don’t wear jeans and a T-Shirt to Church”, nor does it say, “Thou shalt wear a tie with thy button-down shirt and thy khaki pants.” I think the latter is preferable to the former, but that’s taken from a Scriptural principle, not a Scriptural specific. The Bible speaks about liturgy and worship, likewise, in terms of principles, not necessarily specifics. I’ll try to draw out the Biblical defenses of traditional liturgy next time.

Mark DenHoed writes,

That poor sap whom we all know and love (John, in case you didn’t pick that up) always go on about Liturgical Revolution. I usually dismiss his illogical opinions as the rubbish they are with a contemptuous wave of dismissal from my regal hand and a ‘pah’ emanating from my mouth (Yes, I’m being sarcastic. If there’s any dismissing of illogical opinions, it’s probably on John’s part.). However, this time I think he has a point.

It kind of hit me during Church this last Sunday. We were singing. Take My Life and Let It Be. They had taken the liberty of sticking the bane of any hymn into the song, a modern repetitive chorus, and then the difference between old songs and modern songs struck me. I’ll post some old songs and embolden and/or italicise any parts of interest.

Ye Olde Songs:

Take My Life and Let it be

Take my life, and let it be consecrated, Lord, to Thee.
Take my moments and my days; let them flow in ceaseless praise.
Take my hands, and let them move at the impulse of Thy love.
Take my feet, and let them be swift and beautiful for Thee.
Take my voice, and let me sing always, only, for my King.
Take my lips, and let them be filled with messages from Thee.
Take my silver and my gold; not a mite would I withhold.
Take my intellect, and use every power as Thou shalt choose.
Take my will, and make it Thine; it shall be no longer mine.
Take my heart, it is Thine own; it shall be Thy royal throne.
Take my love, my Lord, I pour at Thy feet its treasure store.
Take myself, and I will be ever, only, all for Thee

Let all Mortal Flesh keep silence

Let all mortal flesh keep silence,
And with fear and trembling stand;
Ponder nothing earthly minded,
For with blessing in His hand,
Christ our God to earth descendeth,
Our full homage to demand.
King of kings, yet born of Mary,
As of old on earth He stood,
Lord of lords, in human vesture,
In the body and the ;
He will give to all the faithful
His own self for heavenly food.
Rank on rank the host of heaven
Spreads its vanguard on the way,
As the Light of light descendeth
From the realms of endless day,
That the powers of hell may vanish
As the darkness clears away.
At His feet the six wingèd seraph,
Cherubim with sleepless eye,
Veil their faces to the presence,
As with ceaseless voice they cry:
Alleluia, Alleluia
Alleluia, Lord Most High!

(Btw, here’s a definition of homage: c.1290, from O.Fr. homage “allegiance or respect for one’s feudal lord,” from homme “man,” from L. homo (gen. hominis). Fig. sense of “reverence, honor shown” is from 1390)

THE NEW SONGS

I can only Imagine by MercyMe. (By the way, I rather like this song, and I have nothing against it, but it demonstrates my point)

I can only imagine
What it will be like
When I walk
By your side
I can only imagine
What my eyes will see
When your face
Is before me
I can only imagine

[Chorus:]Surrounded by Your glory, what will my heart feel
Will I dance for you Jesus or in awe of you be still
Will I stand in your presence or to my knees will I fall
Will I sing hallelujah, will I be able to speak at all I can only imagine

I can only imagine
When that day comes
And I find myself
Standing in the Son
I can only imagine
When all I will do
Is forever
Forever worship You
I can only imagine
[Chorus]
I can only imagine [x2]
I can only imagine
When all I will do
Is forever, forever worship you
…etc

Well, it’s late and I can’t think of any more new songs.

Although, there is one modern song that I think is actually rather good. There are, doubtless, others.

Here’s what interesting about those songs.

Take my life: It’s a petition to God, asking him to take parts of the singer (will, life, heart, etc). You notice that all of the action would be on God’s part. You’ll also notice that the hymn talks about God far more than one’s self.

Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence: I highlighted (nearly) every possessive and nominative word in there. You’ll notice that they all refer to either an Angelic being or God? The only mention of man in the piece is a command that he shut up.

Now, look at the modern song.

Do you see one sentence with the subject being God? Nope. I highlighted all of the nominatives and possessives and they are all about the singer. Again, I rather like this song, but I illustrates the point.

At church a few weeks ago, the youth pastor was gone and so he played a taped lecture by a pastor whose name I forget (I’ll post it if it comes back to me). At one point in the video he said something along the lines of, “Before the reformation, the center of the Church was the Eucharist table, where they had communion. After the reformation, the center of the Church was a pulpit. Now, it’s a stage.” That would seem to be reflected in the music. The center is now those who are singing, not God. So…

Liturgical Revolution, anyone?