Andrew Bearden

MUS 652

1/29/18

ESSAY #1

The first several introductory chapters of text and media comprised a huge swath of

historical data and happenings, both gargantuan in scope in terms of time periods and in

diversity of material. From Native American/colonist encounters on both coasts and the

slave trade in the south to the saga of psalmody in New England and beyond, this material

at first seemed scattered but after looking at all of it from a wider perspective, a common

thread linked all of the information. In chapter 7 of America’s Musical Life, Crawford best

sums up the dichotomy of opposing views which would be a theme throughout the

material: the notion of praise versus edification. These seemingly opposing viewpoints on

music, government, spirituality and society would be at odds with each other throughout

the colonial period in American history, although the conclusion one comes to at the end is

that they do not have to be opposite ends of an ethical, theological or aesthetic spectrum.

Reading the primary source documents regarding the encounters between settlers and

natives, we can see that to a European ear the non-pitch specific singing must have

appeared to be out of tune, or ‘wrong’. This is in line with the theme of edification versus

praise. The natives were not concerned with timbre, note values or pitch as it relates to a

Western 12-tone chromatic scale. It is intriguing that musicologists created vastly different
transcriptions depending on their desire to either accurately capture the essence of the

chants or formalize them into a learned European style of notation. On the west coast,

Junipero Serra was concerned with the spiritual life of the natives. As misdirected as he

may have been from our perspective, his loyalty and devotion to God drove him to convert

as many natives as possible; one can call the Spanish government’s motives the ‘edification’

of the Spanish empire, and as the documentary film pointed out, the priest and the

governor did have a contempt for each other that did not show in public.

The clearest example of the dichotomy between edification and praise comes from the

fiery debate between Puritans and other Protestants concerning the “Old Way” of singing

full voiced and improvised versus “Regular Singing” as prescribed in singing books and

other hymn collections. This debate would continue into the 19th century as Lowell Mason

made a case for establishing vocal music curriculum in the public school system while

another entire faction of worshippers continued to sing a simpler, raw and unlearned style

vis-à-vis The Sacred Harp and shape-note singing.

All of this discussion of praising God versus human edification continues to this day, and it

is the topic that stuck with me the most throughout the readings. In my job as a church

choir director I am charged with programming, rehearsing, and performing the music for

Sunday services each week. Embedded into this process is the assumption that I will select

material that contains a spiritual message while also appealing to the choir and the

congregation in terms of musical enjoyment. Some anthems are purely praising God while

others are based on bible stories or contain a message for spiritual edification, whether it

be forgiveness, charity, loving one’s neighbors, etc. I can’t imagine exclusively singing one

type or the other. It is of interest to note that most contemporary Protestant churches
(including the church where I work) have moved either in part or completely to the

utilization of a ‘praise band’ that plays exclusively contemporary songs of praise. This

allows the choir to sing an edifying anthem. We continue to sing hymns as well, giving the

congregation the opportunity to sing along to well known standards by Luther, Watts, and

some of the big names from the readings like Lowell Mason. What strikes me is that some

churches have fallen into the same trap that the early Bostonian churches began to

complain about – that is, the music became more about the musicians than about God.

Praise songs in some circles have become so intricate in form and ornamented in melody

that they are not designed for the average person in the congregation to sing. Rather, they

are meant to showcase the vocal prowess of the worship leader. While it is tempting to

select songs like these for purely selfish reasons as a trained musician, it is helpful to recall

the constant ebb and flow of opinion in colonial America as musicians and clergymen

weighed in on the importance of the congregation being able to sing along with the music.

Another issue arises in regards to the hiring of professional singers to beef up the choir as

section leaders. I had to do some convincing to allow my current church of employment to

philosophically allow for the funds to hire a preliminary section leader. Many felt that

being in the choir was a calling, and that singing to the best of one’s ability – “making a

joyful noise” – was what it was all about, and hiring ‘ringers’ took away from the

spirituality of church choir, bringing it closer to the professional and secular world of

concert hall choral music. Ultimately I won over the committee, citing not only the

overwhelming trend in every denomination but the promise that a paid section leader

would boost the morale of the volunteers, giving them the confidence to sing loudly in

praise of God knowing a professional was there doing the ‘heavy lifting’.
 In closing, I find the parallels between the musical, theological, and philosophical debates

of colonial America and today extremely fascinating, and ultimately I have concluded (for

now) that a compromise between the two ideologies is what is needed to strike a balance

between the pure joy that comes from unashamedly singing and the necessity and beauty

of refined, polished music. This is a theme that I will continue to examine as we wind our

way through the music of a country whose history is full of of paradoxical values.