There is a vast ocean, people say, between the music of the church and the music of Christian youth. Much of what sails up the charts in contemporary Christian music has little in common with music for worship. And much of the music for worship is so far removed from the language and culture of youth that they cannot find ownership in it. It doesn't express what they feel about God.
Two weeks before this issue of Worship Leader was going to press, we received the news of Rich Mullins' tragic death in a car accident. Out of a life of worship, Mullins, whose song "Awesome God" has become one of the most popular worship choruses in America today, gave voice to a generation of kids who had not yet found a song of their own. He painted them a picture of God's infinite bigness, the frailty of humanness, and the "reckless, raging fury" of God's love.
I never really knew Rich personally, but I'll never forget the moment when I knew just how important his music was and would be for the church. I was teaching an art class at a summer day camp, surrounded by 15 4-year-olds, stringing brightly colored beads for a bracelet. I did my best to wax eloquently about God's gift of color and nature, but they were otherwise preoccupied, too engrossed in the stringing to hear me.
A few seconds after I gave up, it started. One little girl, joyfully oblivious to the fact that she was alone in a group of her peers, began singing. Then one voice at a time joined in until all of them were singing as only 4-year-olds can-"Our God is an awesome God / He reigns from heaven above / with wisdom, power and love / Our God is an awesome God." I tried not to breathe too hard, fearing they would stop. They sang it loud and long, eventually looking around with eyes that asked, "Isn't this the coolest song you ever heard?" When the singing finally turned to giggles, I found a scrap of paper and scribbled in green crayon, "There is hope for the church."
It was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard.
Two years ago at the Gospel Music Association's convention opening service, I heard that song again. Many big names in contemporary Christian music industry were at the Ryman to present an evening of worship. One by one, as the lights came up, they came out dressed in black, offering their best. But then, much to the lighting guys' surprise, Rich Mullins began to play the prelude to what has become his signature song. The choir behind him seemed a little confused that he had started so soon. Wearing scruffy old jeans, a flannel shirt and a way past five o'clock shadow, Mullins was alone with his God in that room full of people. He rarely looked up from the piano, and as far as I could tell, he never opened his eyes. And I heard "Awesome God" sung with all the intimacy that penned it. Then he slipped off the stage and out of sight. I remember thinking later that night, "There is hope for this industry."
It was the most powerful thing I had ever heard.
Like the psalmist David, Mullins didn't write songs for the church. He didn't write songs hoping for a hit. He wrote the truth out of his hunger to know God. And everywhere he went - in youth camps, in churches, or on a Navajo reservation in Arizona - he lived the ragamuffin gospel and sang to those who needed to be sung to.
Rich Mullins' gift to the church goes beyond the greatness of one song. In fact, "Awesome God" was only the giftcard. His true gift was his example of the faith. The hope and the impact of both lives on, as does he.
Melissa Riddle is Editor of Worship Leader.