Naked Singing in Church
I recently worshiped in a carpeted sanctuary with a capacity of about 1000. Perhaps 100 people attended the 8:30 service, and we were spread out all over the sanctuary. Boy were we spread out — passing the peace took two seconds because you couldn’t reach the hand of the nearest person to you. Sort of felt like what worshiping with the quarantined, but I digress.
This experience reminded me that people sing best when they sit fairly close together — when they are close enough to hear other voices with their own. Hearing other voices assures you that you aren’t singing a solo, and the blend of sound supports everyone else.
I’m a trained singer and a hymn lover, but in said quarantine worship environment I admit I sang neither loudly or well. I felt naked. If I sung out, the person four rows in front me would hear me and only me — when I’m singing to God, I don’t like feeling it’s also a solo to unknown person in front with bald spot and bad sports coat.
I’ve heard multiple stories of congregations who were seeking to improve their congregational song finding simple steps such as getting folks to sit closer together, putting choir members behind them, and playing the organ more quietly rather than acoustical assault greatly helped. Or you could always take up the carpet 
image by Gözde Otman
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10% filled, ouch. When we were starting out we put a coffee shop in the back half of the church building. It made a crowd of 20 seem like
a group. I too am a singer, there have been churches where I can sing, then others…..some of it is the Holy Spirit, some as you say the environment. That 10% is sad, yet 100 is the top number we have ever had.
First of all…have you ever read John Bell’s The Singing Thing? It’s all about the “why” and the “how” of congregational song. It’s a skinny little book, and I seriously undervalued it when I first read it, but now I highly recommend it!
I agree wholeheartedly that congregations sing better when they are grouped together, and that, in turn, they worship better! The trick, however, is that the dispersion in a sanctuary isn’t usually a casual affair. People are probably sitting in the same pew they’ve been sitting in for years or decades, and even as the congregation has dwindled, they have “their spot” in the sanctuary. It is difficult to convince people to move out of “their spot!”
At my internship church, we tried a few different times to break people of their “this is my pew” habit. We would make an announcement before the start of the service, asking everyone to move forward and sit closer together. The congregation HATED be asked to do it, and though there was a noticeable improvement in the quantity and volume of singing, as well as an energy to the worship service itself, they all went back to their old spots the following week. It wasn’t hard to convince people that singing and worshiping just “felt better” when they were sitting together as a group, it was just hard to convince them that it should be an every-week reality.
I think the hard part is convincing people that they aren’t dishonoring or giving up the worth of their habits and traditions if they change seats – on some level, moving to a new place in the congregation feels symbolic of bigger newness and change to many people, and they feel that giving up “their spot” means giving up their sense of history with the church. I know it sounds sort of silly, but I suspect it’s the case in many dwindling congregations. On some level, being willing to move means being willing to accept the fact that the congregation is not what it used to be, and it’s hard for people to get past their denial. They don’t want to see that their friends have died or moved on, or face the reality that they are shrinking, because that means facing the terrifying possibility that the church won’t make it.
It’s sort of amazing how there can be so many embedded reasons behind “naked singing.”
Thanks, Melissa, for bringing up all the underlying and really difficult issues beneath a fun post
Seriously, you’re exactly right and it’s really interesting to hear your experience.
John Bell’s “The Singing Thing” is probably the best book I’ve come across that deals with such issues — yep, it could use a better designer though. Also, his “The Singing Thing Too” gives more practical ways congregations can improve their singing.
Space communicates so much more than it seems. Thanks for reminding us of that.
Oh, and re the previous commenter. yeah, 10% is pretty bad, but it was an early service. I think the later one has several hundred in attendance. Makes you wonder why they don’t combine them, though.
This is my first comment on your blog. I agree with all that’s been said in the other comments, but the thing that really resonates with me is your carpet comment. Seriously, tear out that carpet! It drives me crazy to be in a church that’s invested in a grand piano and then puts it on a carpeted chancel. Might as well just get an old Casio keyboard.
Thanks for the comment, Matt. Point well taken. I love how some organ builders refuse to start plans on an organ before the acoustics of the room are worked out.
Especially with an organ…the room’s half the instrument!