Do you believe in magic?

The piano is pounding. The organ is swinging. The drummer looks like he’s two rim shots shy of a seizure. Just another Sunday night service and all is well.
One of the best parts of attending a Pentecostal church is the music. We take pride in our ability to throw away our pride, and worship God in a manner which first-time visitors often find amusing. It isn’t really a good service unless someone was dancing in the aisles or took a lap around the sanctuary.
Like anyone else, I take great delight in our fervent spirit and can kick off my shoes with the best of them—but there is one phenomenon that causes me to raise an eyebrow. I call it the “Magic Bass Line.” You know which one I mean.
BAH-duh-dah-dah-duh-dah-dah-dah
BAH-duh-dah-dah-duh-dah-dah-dah
The bass player starts walking his fingers chromatically up those frets and there’s suddenly a traffic jam to get out of the pews. Why is this particular arrangement of notes so spiritually moving? Do the musicians have a secret deal with God that He will only come down when he hears the strings do this specific run? Funny how I never ran across that in my King James Version Bible.
I once took part in a Singles trip to London and one of the highlights of our itinerary was attending a local church on Sunday. The UK had there own way of doing things, to be sure—but a point came in the service when I noticed a change in the congregation. They started dancing and worshipping and I wondered what happened. But then I heard it. It was a little different than the American version. The sequence of notes sounded strange, but there was no mistaking it. I found myself being introduced to the British Magic Bass Line.
As a music minister, I find it very tempting to realize there is an almost foolproof method of getting the church members on their feet. We all love the shoutin’ good services that leave you with a smile on your face. But this begs the question—is it really worship or just musical manipulation?
I feel as if asking this question opens a can of worms that we would rather not think about, because I will admit—I love the Magic Bass Line, too. My feet start tapping when I hear it and I start looking for a spot to dance. As people in the pew, we all need a little help getting started, sometimes—especially after a long week of traffic, alarm clocks, and co-workers. Maybe this is just a musical cue to grab our attention and focus us on heavenly matters.
But as music ministers, I think we need to be careful. Nothing can ever replace a true move of God. If we depend more on the sequence than the Spirit, our sanctified shouting can become just as empty and habitual as counting off the beads on a rosary.
One of the best parts of attending a Pentecostal church is the music. We take pride in our ability to throw away our pride, and worship God in a manner which first-time visitors often find amusing. It isn’t really a good service unless someone was dancing in the aisles or took a lap around the sanctuary.
Like anyone else, I take great delight in our fervent spirit and can kick off my shoes with the best of them—but there is one phenomenon that causes me to raise an eyebrow. I call it the “Magic Bass Line.” You know which one I mean.
BAH-duh-dah-dah-duh-dah-dah-dah
BAH-duh-dah-dah-duh-dah-dah-dah
The bass player starts walking his fingers chromatically up those frets and there’s suddenly a traffic jam to get out of the pews. Why is this particular arrangement of notes so spiritually moving? Do the musicians have a secret deal with God that He will only come down when he hears the strings do this specific run? Funny how I never ran across that in my King James Version Bible.
I once took part in a Singles trip to London and one of the highlights of our itinerary was attending a local church on Sunday. The UK had there own way of doing things, to be sure—but a point came in the service when I noticed a change in the congregation. They started dancing and worshipping and I wondered what happened. But then I heard it. It was a little different than the American version. The sequence of notes sounded strange, but there was no mistaking it. I found myself being introduced to the British Magic Bass Line.
As a music minister, I find it very tempting to realize there is an almost foolproof method of getting the church members on their feet. We all love the shoutin’ good services that leave you with a smile on your face. But this begs the question—is it really worship or just musical manipulation?
I feel as if asking this question opens a can of worms that we would rather not think about, because I will admit—I love the Magic Bass Line, too. My feet start tapping when I hear it and I start looking for a spot to dance. As people in the pew, we all need a little help getting started, sometimes—especially after a long week of traffic, alarm clocks, and co-workers. Maybe this is just a musical cue to grab our attention and focus us on heavenly matters.
But as music ministers, I think we need to be careful. Nothing can ever replace a true move of God. If we depend more on the sequence than the Spirit, our sanctified shouting can become just as empty and habitual as counting off the beads on a rosary.


4 Comments:
Shannon,
That last paragraph was a slam-dunk! Well said.
Okay: I HATE THE MAGIC BASS LINE!!! But I think you already knew that!:) I always wonder- would everyone be shouting if we DIDN'T play that line? AHA!! I'm just old a stubborn, but when the bass player starts that, I boycott - you couldn't make me play along for love or money.
AA
A friend of mine said once all we need for backsliders to come running to the altar is a high G on the Hammond and play G7 to C7 with that magic bass line
You know I'm being facetious. Or I would be if I was spelling that right.
Wow. That one is out of the park.
I guess this underlying theme is brought into relief every time a missionary comes to church. They inevitably have footage of their services in which the members are going gangbusters--and at times acapella, and most of the others with limited instrumentation.
That said, I believe the "magic" elements in music are also there for a reason. Maybe more to prime a pump than to run the entire tank off of it.
-R
Interesting post. My response would be that there is both a human element and a scriptural precident. When the rams horn was blown, Israel knew it was time to shout. Similarly, our churches have a tradition - regardless of how shallow or how deep your worship was, when the "shout beat" kicks in full throttle, it is now the appropriate time to shout. It doesn't mean everyone is immediately "in the Spirit", it just means it's "according to the Spirit".
No manipulation. Pumping us up? Possibly. A good worship leader will. We need it. It's not long after shouting just because it's time to shout, or simply because God's worthy of celebration that we often find ourselves "in the Spirit".
My take. Now let's Praise Him.
p.s. I'm not a huge fan of the "shout beat", but that's simply because I have a revelation about dancing...I don't need a special song...it should start on the first note. But...most of our churches and saints benefit from the "it's time to shout" anthem. Like you said, it's an alarm clock.
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