I have a confession to make: I’m a literary snob. This wouldn’t be so bad if my literary judgments were confined to the Twilight books, but my snobbishness goes where even angels fear to tread.
Yes, I’m talking about modern worship music.
It’s Sunday morning. Having quaffed my morning coffee and dressed less shabbily than usual, I’ve come to church to worship God and learn from Scripture. But I look at the bulletin and feel a pang of annoyance.
The first song on the list: “How He Loves Us.”
I stifle a groan. Not “How He Loves Us.” Not again.
The song begins.
“He is jealous for me, love’s like a hurricane, I am a tree bending beneath the weight of his wind and mercy.”
Bending beneath the weight of his wind? What is that even supposed to mean?
“When all of a sudden, I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory and I realize just how beautiful you are and how great your affections are for me.”
Dash it all, that’s got to be the worst poetry I’ve ever heard.
“So we are his portion and he is our prize, drawn to redemption by the grace in his eyes.”
That’s bad writing, but at least it’s coherent.
“If grace is an ocean we’re all sinking.”
That is not coherent. Drowning in an ocean doesn’t even come close to being an appropriate metaphor for divine grace.
“So heaven meets earth like a sloppy wet kiss and my heart turns violently inside of my chest.”
Something is turning violently inside me, but it’s not my heart. How exactly is heaven like a sloppy wet kiss? I haven’t seen such bad writing since Eoin Colfer likened sparks of magic to “mystical beavers repairing storm damage.”
Then, in a blinding instant, I realize I’m being a literary snob when I ought to be worshiping the Lord God Almighty.
Am I the only Pharisee guilty of literary snobbishness? Does anyone else have something to confess? Let us know in the comments!