When the Latest and Greatest Isn’t

I overheard a conversation with a youth leader not long ago who was deriding a popular praise song, not because of its lyrics or melody, but simply because it was from “last year.” It reminded me of what C. S. Lewis called, “chronological snobbery,” that is, regarding only those things that were considered “new,” or the “latest” as having value and anything else as “passe,” or no longer of any value. [If you want to read more on this, it’s found in chapter 13 of Surprised by Joy.] There exists a danger of this very attitude among those that lead worship for congregations, though it sometimes comes under other guises. The boast is that they only use the “latest and the greatest,” and only songs off the latest recordings and only from the “best groups.” This attempt at relevance maybe sincere or may even be a point of pride, but regardless, such attitudes reflect a deeper issue that needs to be addressed. This is precisely where Lewis’ comment is so appropriate.

There is nothing wrong with a desire to be relevant, however blind obligation to view only the new as valuable has some serious weaknesses which I would like to mention. I would not say that the list is exhaustive, but is at least a start, and I welcome others to add as they see fit.
 It ignores the fact that truth is eternal. Truth is part of the very nature of an unchanging God, and those the expressions of that truth may change, the veracity of its nature does not.
 It ignores historical perspective. God had commanded Moses to teach the history of the great acts of God from generation to generation, “so that when your son asks you, ‘why do we hold the Passover?'" they would have the opportunity of sharing what God had done and provide the basis for believing in the future. In the same way, the Lord’s Supper is that reminder of the saving work of Christ, a celebration so that we not forget: “Do this in remembrance of Me.” To emphasize only the new seems to minimize truths that might be handed down generation after generation.
 It lacks the tests of time to validate its worth and usefulness. There are songs that are from generations past that continue to minister to countless across generational lines. By granting value to a song based on its publication relegates the theological filter to a calendar more than on the teaching of Scripture.
 It reinforces an attitude that worship is “all about me,” when driven by personal preference for only the newest. This is ever present when the basis for what we use in worship is driven by personal preference more than on the message.
 It sets itself for designed obsolescence, for built into the very nature of the attitude is that good is measured more by a clock that is ticking.
 Is there proof that what was done before is no longer true? This was one of Lewis' own arguments to the issue.

When the psalmist wrote “sing to the Lord a new song,” he was not saying, “sing to the Lord, only a new song.” That “new song” was a encouragement to seek new ways to declare the infinite nature and character of God. We need to be like that the scribe that Jesus described as one who heard Christ’s words and accepted them, and so was getting treasures, both “new and old.” An active appreciation of the past is not an attempt to forget relevance, but better understand who we are. If we cannot see where we have been, we will not be able to see where we are going. It is not a matter of “either / or,” but “both / and.” Let’s move past any boasting, any of this “chronological snobbery,” and continue to seek the best new declarations of God’s nature and character and at the same time retain the insights and understanding of the past.