IF YOU CAN, try to imagine watching your favorite movie without a music track. There’s no foreboding music when the characters face danger; no triumphant music when they overcome obstacles; no sentimental music when they show compassion. And if the movie has a happy ending, there’s no uplifting music to go along with it. If it were actually possible to turn off the musical score, your experience of the movie would be different. It might not even be your favorite film anymore.

It’s not just your imagination. Music has the power to influence our moods and emotions, even our physical state. Researchers, for example, have studied the effect of letting patients use headphones to listen to the music of their choice before, during, and after surgery. Patients who got to listen to their music were calmer throughout; their blood pressure was notably lower than that of patients who didn’t have music. Music can help control patients’ stress responses even when they’re not conscious, and can help them reduce the need for sedatives. Heck, music even seems to help surgeons stay calmer during operations, improving their performance.

Is it any wonder that the apostle Paul encourages the Colossians to sing together? As we’ve seen, he repeatedly directs them to be grateful to God the Father for all that he has done, is doing, and will do for his beloved children. And right along with this, he tells them to sing their gratitude. If we think of the role that music plays in our own lives and worship, this shouldn’t surprise us.

This is one of the things, sadly, that gets lost in the post-pandemic world of online worship. It’s one thing to watch a sermon on YouTube, whether live or recorded. It’s one thing to listen to the worship team perform. But it’s another to be in the room, in community, singing together. As you might imagine, I can be a pretty intellectual kind of guy, constantly tempted to pick apart sermons and song lyrics. But even for me, there’s no substitute for the visceral experience of merging my spirit and emotions with the people around me in song. That’s even been the case when I’ve been the guest speaker or preacher somewhere and had to work through a translator. I didn’t understand a word of what the people were singing, but I could still get caught up in their unity of spirit as they sang.

And by the way, if you’ve ever tried to sing together on Zoom… well, you know what a musical train wreck that can be. I think there’s a sermon in there somewhere.

Here are Paul’s words again, this time, as translated by the Common English Bible:

The peace of Christ must control your hearts—a peace into which you were called in one body. And be thankful people. The word of Christ must live in you richly. Teach and warn each other with all wisdom by singing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs. Sing to God with gratitude in your hearts. Whatever you do, whether in speech or action, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus and give thanks to God the Father through him. (Col 3:15-17)

When Paul uses the word “psalms,” he may indeed mean the poems and songs that we know as the book of Psalms, and these are still part of many worship traditions today. Indeed, I’ve suggested elsewhere that we might even think of the Psalms as the “soundtrack” to Jesus’ life and ministry, given his penchant for quoting them. With their richly textured expressions of praise and lament, hope and despair, we could definitely do worse.

But some readers then try to distinguish “psalms” from “hymns” and “spiritual songs,” as if it were possible to create separate categories. Such work is interesting, but speculative, and most likely misses the point. Paul was writing to people of an oral culture. The gospel wasn’t spread through printed pamphlets or books, but through proclamation and conversation. Sayings of Jesus were memorized and shared, and ideas were already being put to music. Songs helped people remember what they believed and why they should be grateful. Music, therefore, was one way in which, to use Paul’s words, “the word of Christ” could “live in [believers] richly.”

He wasn’t telling the Colossians to start a Christian music industry, but reminding them why they did what they were already doing. Through music, they were bringing the gospel to life in a way that united mind and heart, body and soul, and knit the spirit of the entire community together in song. Music was a vehicle for worship. It still is, and probably always will be. It’s an important means for experiencing and expressing our heartfelt gratitude to God.

But we must be careful not to confuse the means with the end. Music can and should be worshipful, but not all music is worship and not all worship is music. It’s easy to slip into a way of thinking and speaking that identifies “worship” with the way we feel when we sing. And again, speaking personally, I confess that the love and grace of God seems most real to me when I sing; some songs bring tears to my eyes and a lump to my throat.

Music, then, is a potent means of worship, but it’s not the only one. That’s why Paul, having strongly encouraged the Colossians to sing to God with grateful hearts, moves on from there to make the larger point. “Whatever you do,” he says, “whether in speech or in action, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus and give thanks to God the Father through him.” That’s the goal of worship for which psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs are but some of the means. Our gratitude is not simply to be sung, but to be lived in word and deed, not just when we’re at church, but wherever we happen to be.