The day the music died

I was listening to a song by Bob Seger the other day while I was working out and the lyrics were rather interesting. It was something like, “Just give me that old time rock and roll. I don’t care anything about a disco, or a tango” and he went on extolling the virtues of his desire just to listen to good old rock and roll and to be unhindered by the modern day music of the land. Personally I could not agree more and modern day music definitely does not have the same soul in my book either.

Bob Seger wails that you can call him old fashioned or over the hill and he could care less, and I guess I fall into that category too. I don’t want to believe that about myself as I like to think that I have a few young ideas; however when it comes to music, I think the 60’s/70’s era produced the best music to which I have ever listened and remains so to this day. The same holds true for churches of yesteryear.

Some friends came down to see me in Florida and were telling me about the mega-church that they attend in Atlanta. They actually watch their preacher being piped in and broadcast on a big screen TV from another location. Apparently he has several locations around the metropolitan area of Atlanta and his image is broadcast throughout the Atlanta area and perhaps even beyond for all to see. I have heard about this service and many other churches that are moving in that direction and aside from the piped in preacher, the music is blaring loud and the praise team belts it out; there is no choir. Young people dance around hypnotically to the music waving their hands skyward and really get into it. My buddy is closer to my age and told me that in the interest of preserving what little hearing that remains, he waits until the music portion of the service is over before joining the service for the sermon.

Personally I like the old time church services just like old time rock and roll music. I like the old time gospel songs and dislike the praise songs and praise teams that are so popular now. I hate standing up and singing song after song, after song, after song, with no break. In those old time services we would sing a hymn and then sit one out and let the choir have at it, and then perhaps stand again and sing for another number or two with all, and finally finish the set sitting down and enjoying listening to some special music by some gifted singer. Then the preacher would deliver the message and it would be followed by an invitation for people to accept Christ publically. The new services tell you to check off a box on a card if you have accepted Christ and generally omit even singing those touching invitational songs such as “Just as I am”. This is my favorite part of the service; a moment when I feel the closest to God’s presence and now, sadly, it is being omitted.

People at the old time gospel services dressed up appropriately in honor of a holy God. Men wore suits and women wore dresses. Nowadays there is no dress code and shirttails hang out, dirty blue jeans are worn, shorts, flip flops, tank tops, ragged tee shirts and unkempt hair, abound. In some cases the preacher is dressed the worst of all. If he preached someone’s wedding or a funeral the preacher and crowd would at least wear a tie, but I suppose the modern mantra for our modern church is that the Lord should consider Himself honored if anyone even shows up at all and who cares if they did not brush their teeth, wear clean clothes, or comb their hair in honor of His holy presence.

I am told that this new church format is very successful in attracting young people to church. I am elated about that, but I guess I worry about what message we are teaching them when they get there. I try not to get too hung up on it and realize we are not in the 16th century and do not say thee or thou anymore and the “times they are a changing” and we need to change with them, but I truly miss those services. They just seem more spiritual to me.

Alas it is getting very difficult to even find services of that type anymore anyway, just like it is hard to find anyone other than me at work wearing a suit and tie anymore, or finding a radio station that plays good music instead of someone screaming poetry laced with obscenities in time with a drum machine while someone is irritatingly scratching a record back and forth like fingernails going across a blackboard. Yep I am just getting over the hill. Bah humbug I think I will go to Johnny Rockets and get a chocolate malt, put a quarter in the mini-jukebox and listen to the Big Bopper and reminisce for a while. (For the youngsters reading this, the day the Big Bopper died in a plane crash along with several other stars of the day was the day the music died).