The Pilgrim’s Protest

In CCM Magazine over the last few months, there has been a rehashing of an old controversy in the Contemporary Christian Music industry. Though CIU is far removed from Nash Vegas, home of the CCM industry, I think this issue directly bears upon our lives. “But I don’t listen to Christian music and I’ve never even heard of CCM Magazine,” I hear someone saying. Well, as the wise man once said: ignorance is bliss. You go right back to listening to your Switchfoot and Mutemath, none the wiser and all the better for your lack of intimate knowledge of the inner workings of Nashville. But first, hear me out.
Our story begins in 1991 with the release of Carman’s Addicted To Jesus record. No, don’t go turn off the lights—it’s not a scary ghost story. Well, not that kind, anyway. John Styll, then editor and publisher of CCM Magazine and now president of the Gospel Music Association, picked up the assignment to review the album since no one else wanted to do it. He gave what I consider to be a very fair and balanced review—essentially, he said that it sucked. Carman took this as a personal attack, and it was a few years before he and CCM Magazine worked out their differences. This was not the first controversy over album reviews. In 1986 an open letter calling for Christian periodicals to abandon album reviews and music charts was signed by 66 well-known Christian artists and producers. What was their reasoning? “To attempt to judge a work that is born of the Spirit by the standards of the flesh and the world can only breed confusion and damage the hearts and the work of the people of God.” 1 In a letter to the editor published in the March issue of CCM Magazine, the reasoning was as follows: “I don’t believe anyone—even those very familiar with the Christian music industry—should judge the work of fellow Christians. I have to believe that Christian artists who dedicate their lives to bringing others to God through music do so in response to an intimate calling.”

Now, I see a college tuition-sized problem with the argument here. While it is true that many Christian musicians see their work as a ministry, that ministry is wedded to a business world full of products and consumers. It’s all well and good to say that we shouldn’t judge an artist’s CD because it is her offering to God, but unless she wants to follow through on her convictions like Keith Green and give her music away for free, then she is asking me to pay $16 for her “ministry.” My pastor doesn’t ask me to pay for his sermons (well, I do come from a Baptist tradition…). So we’re already working with a different animal here; as subjective a process as it may be, we are all going to judge the artistic merits of a CD and decide whether or not we like it. Album reviews can be helpful in guiding our choices of which products to purchase.
My real problem with the logic of the album-review dissenters, however, is the underlying notion that the application of the term ministry to an activity or product should make that thing exempt from critique. On an Internet message board that I frequent, I asked for opinions on this subject. Jerry Davidson, formerly of the band Jacob’s Trouble (they wrote a great song called “These Thousand Hills” that Third Day later covered on their Offerings record) had this to say: “If a doctor was called to the ministry of helping the sick in India or Africa, is he still liable for malpractice? Should he not be held responsible for doing sloppy or substandard work just because it’s a ministry?” I fear that not only artists in the field of Christian music, but also film-makers, pastors, worship leaders, and university students may use ministry as a hiding place where mediocrity can remain un-assailed. I cringe every time I hear a worship leader say “let’s just make a joyful noise unto the Lord;” not because I disagree with the idea that we can all worship God through song even if we are not musically gifted, but because so often those words are an apology for a band that has not practiced enough or an attempt to get an apathetic group of worshippers to at least pretend like they care.
The mediocrity in all aspects of life that I and many of my brothers and sisters settle for is frightening enough, especially in light of Col. 3:23-24: “Whatever you do, do your work heartily, as for the Lord rather than for men […]. It is the Lord Christ whom you serve.” I know that in context Paul is exhorting slaves, but I’m going to go out on a limb here and suggest that these words may be applied to our lives generally. If then we ought to strive for excellence in all our work, how can we possibly use ministry as a shield to deflect the scrutiny and honest criticism of our brothers and sisters? I have an idea for how we might remedy the situation. I can’t promise that it’s a good idea, but I’m trying and I trust you to let me know where it’s weak. Perhaps we can counter this misuse of the word ministry by salvaging the word accountability from being restricted to problems with pornography and doing daily devotions.
For instance, I am a people-pleaser. I really want people to like me and am often devastated by criticism. I will mull over conversations for days, thinking how I might have better handled myself in a situation (If only I had told the joke about the priest, the rabbi, and the llama…).
But the reason I do these things is mostly an image concern—I desire a positive response from you more than I care about the quality of whatever I’m doing. I really don’t think I’m alone in this attitude. Instead of being so concerned with how we are perceived by others, let us so love the truth that we invite the Body of Christ to speak the truth in love wherever there is room for improvement in our lives and ministries. As we in turn examine the work of others, let us not condemn, but rather let us pursue a ministry of exhortation and correction. How could we fail to thrive in such a humbling yet uplifting community?