Tertullian and the Power of Music

Tertullian, a Christian theologian who lived in Carthage in the 2nd and 3rd centuries, could be a bit of a prude. His most famous rhetorical question -- "What has Athens to do with Jerusalem?" -- was meant to set a clear boundary between the ways of the world and a proper Christian life. His call for Christians to life rigorously in set-apart ways was not altogether unique for that period of church history, but Tertullian took separation from the world to new levels. This especially applied to attendance at "spectacles" such as the circus and the theater:

The path to the theater is from the temples and the altars, from that miserable mess of incense and blood, to the tune of tibias and trumpets... Quite obviously Bacchus and Venus are the patrons of the arts of the stage...You, O Christian, will hate the things, when you cannot but hate the authors of them. -- On Spectacles, Chapter 10

Obviously, secular songs and their accompanying instruments were a distinctive feature of these theater productions. However, Tertullian did not throw out the musical baby with the proverbial bathwater. Indeed, he saw music as a powerful force, with great constructive -- as well as destructive -- potential. For instance, he wrote a beautiful passage about how groups of Christians should share meals, which should involve singing:

After water for the hands come the lights; and then each, from what he knows of the Holy Scriptures, or from his own heart, is called before the rest to sing to God. -- Apology, Chapter 39

And he even expected that Christian spouses would sing to each other, spurring one another on to deeper spiritual truths:

Between the two echo psalms and hymns; and they mutually challenge each other which shall better chant to their Lord. -- To His Wife, Book 2, Chapter 8

I'm not sure that the American church still believes that music has this kind of power. Sure, music production dominates our discourses about how churches worship, and nothing else in a typical evangelical service gets as much time as the music-making. But music is valued only for its attractional and expressive purposes -- specifically, it is a tool used to get people in the door and (sometimes) to provide them an emotional release. It seems to me that most church leaders don't expect music to transform anyone -- it only functions to keep people in the building long enough to hear the preaching, which is the "real" agent of discipleship.

Elsewhere in the world, Christian leaders think more like Tertullian. For example, during a trip to Mexico in the 1990s, I was walking down the street with a local pastor. He pointed to a loudspeaker playing music outside of a record store. Shaking his finger, he warned me of the danger of this popular song whose lyrics I could not understand. He assured me that the words, along with the beat, were responsible for driving people away from God. This man was consistent in his beliefs about music; later I saw how the worship at his church was genuinely transforming those in attendance. People were making commitments to Christian discipleship during the praise and worship time, well before anyone preached a sermon. This pastor understood the power of music to make faithful disciples of Jesus, just as he was wary of music's power to corrupt and drive one away from God. To him, if music is powerful, then it has the capacity for good or evil.

The American church instead talks about how well its music is utilized -- that is, how many worshipers appreciate it on an aesthetic level. But shouldn't we be thinking about the power of music to enrich one's love for God and other people? Consequently, if the American church was actually convinced that music had the power to change lives, then wouldn't we, ala Tertullian, be a bit more discerning about the kinds of music we listened to the rest of the week?

For a more thorough treatment of Tertullian on music, see chapter 6 of Calvin Stapert's A New Song from an Old World. That's where I got the translations of the quotes above.