Form, Function and Final Purpose

A look at music in worship

We can use a conceptual chain to examine how fit something (music) is for a particular task (worship): Form serves Function, Function fills a role in the Final Purpose.

Starting backward, the final purpose is God’s glory. This is important. The final purpose is not to develop an entertaining, moving or traditional ceremony that revolves around a theme of God. The final purpose does not come from us, we don’t choose it. It was decided by God when He created everything.

The function and role of the worship period is also important to consider. Notice, worship period, not worship. Worship is meant to be our active mode of being, encompassing all aspects of our lives. As Romans 12:1 states, we are to give our bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God, this is our true and proper worship. The ceremony, the worship period, has a role in that wider scope of worship. Its role is to support and cultivate the individual's orientation toward God.

These periods of devoted, communal worship have formative power and affect reception of doctrinal truths. This is their function and this function is largely unavoidable. They may function improperly, but if they occur, they function in some way. If the service elicits boredom and over-familiarity, it can lead to stale, casual acknowledgement and inhibit a full acceptance of the message as the lived truth it is meant to be. Repetition can help instill messages and convey truth, but it can also create numbness to the truth.

Emotional appeal in these worship services can open hearts to genuine understanding and the embracing of truths, but if it does not help orient us toward God, it misleads. Emotional appeal can be self indulgent, where specific positive or seemingly deep feelings become the perceived final purpose. In this case, the ceremony is misaligned, functions badly and fails in its role in God's final purpose. This is dangerous.

Music specifically has a role to play as part of these communal worship periods. Music has formative power as well. Beyond its lyrics, music can convey sentiments that transcend propositional speech. Reverence, boredom, gratitude, openness and understanding can build through exposure to these sentiments. While the lyrics of music must align with doctrine, let’s focus on these sentiments, as they are a central function of music that sets it apart.

A helpful illustration of these sentiments actually comes from literature. Stoner by John Williams is often regarded as a perfect novel. It is the simple tale of an English professor of little note. The events of his life are unremarkable, and we are told the whole of the story from the outset. Dramatic suspense plays a very small role. Similarly, the prose, while elegant, lacks the poetic flourish often earmarked as a quality of great literature. Even so, in the end, when Stoner’s humble book falls from his hand and lands on the floor with a noise that no one hears, the effect on the reader is extraordinary. This is the product of a sentiment that is conveyed, not through any particular part of the story, but through the entire experience of the novel. These sentiments often transcend mere description.

Music and literature, as art, both convey ineffable sentiments, though they differ in meaningful ways. Consider the bird that flies to heights unimaginable but cannot know the depths of the sea that the fish calls home. Music and literature share a function in a general sense, but neither can fully replicate the other.

These sentiments can help dispose the listener toward truths beyond rational approval or disapproval. The danger here is obvious. If not tethered to truth, properly oriented toward God, music can easily become manipulative.

Stated cleanly, music’s function is its capacity to convey ineffable sentiment and articulate meaning through lyrics. In communal worship, this function shapes how doctrinal truths are received, which serves the role of orienting the individual toward God. When this orientation is aligned with God’s glory as the final purpose, music is a blessing. When it draws desire toward anything else, it becomes dangerous. The dividing line between blessing and danger is not in the genre or instruments employed, but in whether or not music fulfills its role.

This chain does not necessitate a specific form music must take. Scripture affirms this. Psalm 150 speaks of this diversity of form specifically, saying all instruments and everything that has breath should praise the Lord. This is not to slip into an "anything goes" view on music, for as Romans 12:2 says, we are not to be conformed to this world but be transformed by the renewing of our minds. Not everything, as we experience it, helps orient us toward God.

Diving a little more into the form of music, it accomplishes its function by its form of sound, structured through rhythm, melody, harmony and the like, created using any instrument or method. The lyrics must not contradict the doctrine, but do not alone "finish the work" of music. Lyrics do not have to revolve around positive emotions. Many of the psalms center on a sense of despair and vulnerability, and while most have an element of hope, Psalm 88, for example, does not. Its final line is "darkness is my closest friend." An uplifting or inspiring message has a place, but so does an authentic representation of more negative emotions. This is because the use of music is as important to its function as its form.

Put into the proper context, Psalm 88 can resonate with real emotions listeners experience, and grow our connection with God, our reliance on Him, even through our most challenging moments.

Danger is misalignment. When form does not function in a way that fills its role in the final purpose, the music is misaligned and, to echo Jesus's words on the eye that causes us to sin, it should be cut out and thrown away.

Importantly, judgement cannot be done in isolation. The wider context of the worship period must be considered, as it too has a form, function, and role in the same final purpose. Music must be situated properly and contextualized in the proper worship period. More than this, people also have a function, and that function also has a role in the final purpose. If there is misalignment with the individual, music’s function, though properly formed and contextualized adequately in the worship period, might be rejected or misinterpreted.

This makes judgement of this form of music over that form even more difficult. If we cannot cleanly judge it by its effect, how can we discern which form of music is good and which is bad? When is music too emotionally appealing? When do repeated traditional practices desensitize the heart and mind? And when are these failures due to a misaligned individual?

There may be no easy, plug and play solution, no form of music which solves all the issues we might run into. Certain traditions maintain that the collective decisions of the church concerning the music and ceremonial practices best serve the function and fill the role in the final purpose. It might be appropriate here to pay respect to those traditional practices. These have been formed, passed down, and in some cases developed and refined in order to serve the final purpose. With humility, an individual may benefit from attending more traditional services and shifting their focus to the transformation of their own mind, rather than simply seeking music that resonates with them.

But this is not to affirm one form over another. Modern practices are not inherently invalid, ineffective or dangerous, but they must be used properly in order to function in a way that guides and connects people with the truth.

For a more in depth understanding of proper use, let’s examine the function and role of man in God's final purpose for His creation. In Genesis we are told that God created man in His image and that He appointed us as stewards over creation. This stewardship is our role, and it sheds light on the relationship we are to have with music as part of worship ceremonies. We are not fully responsive to our environment, blown about on the formative winds of music. Instead we are parts of the environment (created from the dust) that can intentionally shape it, and are meant to shape it as God’s image bearers. Our relationship with music and worship ceremonies is more interactive. Our actions craft, contextualize and shape their function in meaningful ways.

This is stewardship and it is our role. Being image bearers sheds light on our proper function.

But what does it mean to be image bearers? We are told in Isaiah that we were made for His glory. His glory is understood as His nature. In our role as stewards, we, as image bearers, are created to function as embodiments of His nature. This function guides how we are to fill our role as stewards of His creation.

We must embody faithfulness and truth, letting our speech and actions be borne of integrity and righteousness, not fractured motives and self-serving double mindedness. Above this, all of our actions must be expressions of love, the desire for what is best for others. This is not for our benefit and not to merely please another, but to act in ways motivated by the desire for what is truly best.

And what is truly best?

The fulfillment of each thing's role in God's final purpose for His creation. This is the Kingdom of Heaven: all of creation properly oriented toward God's glory.

If the individual is properly oriented, music that functions according to its role in God's final purpose, regardless of form or instrumentation, will resonate and be a blessing. If the individual's heart, intentions, desires and rational thoughts are not first properly aligned, there is no guarantee the music will function properly, regardless of its form. Importantly, the two work in tandem, neither fully subordinates the other. Music has formative power, but the individual maintains the capacity to resist or embrace and shape its function and effects.

But in all of this, we are like Peter when he stepped out of the boat to walk on water with Jesus as the storm raged. When he took his eyes off Jesus He became afraid and began to sink. This is the state of the misaligned man. Peter was only saved when he cried out, "Lord, save me!" He did not learn to swim in the churning waters. No wave washed him back into the boat. He did not begin to walk on the water again by leaning on his own will or understanding. It was his reorientation toward Jesus that saved him. This is the nature of the final purpose. As His creation, we are ultimately dependent on Him.

Music can serve to guide us on, showing us the light of the north star, and this light may shine through the fog of our misorientation, but the actual north star is Jesus, and if we are not looking for him, no music will save us.


Word Count: 1852

Prompt: Music: Blessing or Danger?