Regular or Extra Creepy?

One constant struggle Tim and I have had throughout our marriage was in choosing which service to attend at any given church we've belonged to. Inevitably the church offers a "traditional" service and a "contemporary" one. Just as inevitably, my preference lies with the traditional and Tim's with contemporary. I imagine part of it is how we were raised (as in the type of church we attended while growing up) and part of it is the depth of musical background (I took years and years of various music lessons, Tim took 1 year of piano) and part of it is simply a perception of what is worshipful music and what is the Christian equivalent of Britney Spears (fun to listen to on the radio, but do you really sing it in the service?)

Until a few weeks ago, our current church had been the blissful oasis providing relief from this struggle. Their traditional service was so dry and stale that I think even the old people were bored - it certainly seemed like the choir was about to drop dead from exhaustion and disinterest at any moment. And the contemporary service? It was wonderful - the songs were tune-ful (by and large), there were honest to goodness musicians playing it, the people in front didn't need a bucket and both hands to carry a tune. And the general atmosphere created by the musical segment of the service was worship and reflection - even when the songs were upbeat and lively, it was clear that the music was presented as a corporate offering of worship to God.

And then the choir director who had been volunteering, I think since the beginning of the church, decided to retire and we hired a new music minister for our church. It's the first time in the history of our church (which is somewhere around 30 or 40 years old, so not super old, but not brand new) that we've had an actual staff member music minister. This meant, of course, that the guy who had been volunteering and leading the contemporary worship team also had to step down to make way for, oh, let's call him Larry.

I will make all of the following statements to try to ensure that people understand that I understand that change is hard, new people in charge want to do things their way, he's still learning about the church, etc. etc. etc. Ok, Larry's got a hard row to hoe, no doubt. I sympathize with him to a point.

But since he came the struggle has reemerged in the Sleepy household. And it's reemerged with a vengence because the choice between services is now Regular or Extra Creepy.

Let's start with why I call him Larry, it's because he's like a Lounge Singer. Firstly, every song, regardless of the fact that we've sung this song in this order for the past 3 or 4 weeks (because singing different songs each week, well, what a nutty idea!), Larry feels he needs to showcase his amazing voice and talent at being able to play his keyboard and sing by singing the first verse and chorus all by himself and then inviting us to sing along. With little asides in his sing-talky voice about "This is an easy tune, you'll get it, but let me lay it out for you first." I wonder occasionally if we ought to dim the lights, replace the chairs with tables and chairs with candles in the center to get the right atmosphere. Second, we're a casual crowd, people come in shorts and t-shirts and no one bats an eye, but the shorts aren't ratty and the t-shirt isn't rumpled. Larry looks like he just crawled off the floor from under a pile of laundry that he just hasn't had time to take care of. The disheveled does not begin to describe. I've seen linen suits balled up and tied in knots then soaked and left to dry that way come out looking more put together than Larry manages on a given Sunday. And I know it's not about how you look - but really, when you're up in front of everyone you can't manage to put yourself together a little? Really? And, well, you'll have to imagine the peevish old lady voice for this one, but man Larry, get a haircut. You're at least in your mid-40s, it's time to move away from the long bowl cut that's so cute on curly haired little boys.

Ok, so pushing the visual aside which is easily remedied by just keeping my eyes shut or focused on the big screen where they display the lyrics and pretty mountain pictures, and pushing and the lounge singer aspects aside as well as a difference in styles, let's discuss the meaning of monotony. As in Mono tone. As in the song that Lary has now forced us to endure for the last 3 weeks running that consists of exactly 4 notes. But really the other 3 are asides and only done on the last syllable of one word in the chorus to make you feel like you're a gospel singer. We used to sing really complicated pieces of music like "As the deer" and so forth - I promise you, Larry, we can handle more than 1 note songs. And I won't even get into the fantastic theological depth and worshipful mindset that arises out of singing "Change me on the inside" over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over on one note. What was that? You got bored, distracted, and stopped paying attention to what you were doing reading all those over and overs? I know the feeling.

And the clapping. Oh make the clapping stop! We clap during the song - ok, fine, keep the time, whatever. But isn't there something you can do to keep people from turning it into applause at the end? What are we applauding? The music? Cause it used to be about worship and there would be some "amen"s here and there sprinkled about - but there sure was never anything like Larry this past week pointing to the musician who did a little solo during the interlude and urging us to "give him a hand". This. Is. Not. A. Concert.

Or should I just start bringing my lighter for the slow songs?