\n<\/p>\n
The 1910 edition of the YMCA songbook, Manly Songs for Christian Men, has no foreword or introduction, just a brief explanation on the title page: \u201cA collection of Sacred Songs adapted to the needs of Male Singers. For use in Adult Bible Classes, Y.M.C.A. Meetings and all gatherings of men for religious work and worship.\u201d<\/p>\n
The first song is \u201cFor the Man of Galilee,\u201d which opens with these lines:<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Shout aloud the stirring summons
\nO\u2019er the land from sea to sea
\nMen are wanted, men of courage,
\nFor the Man of Galilee.<\/p>\n\n<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
The song alternates between accented, march-like sections in unison and four-part harmonies. The music gives tenors the chance to project at the top of their range, and the basses get to land on a resonant low A-flat at the end of each verse. It\u2019s a rousing march in the tradition of 19th-century men\u2019s choirs, once fixtures of many European and American communities.<\/p>\n
But today, if you ask leaders and pastors about the status of congregational singing in their churches, most will confirm that many men just don\u2019t participate. Some blame musical style<\/a>, some blame lyrical content<\/a>, and others blame generalized \u201cfeminization\u201d of the American church<\/a>.<\/p>\n
Recent interest in the state of masculinity, explored in a raft of op-eds<\/a>, books<\/a>, and podcasts<\/a>, has reinvigorated a perennial discussion<\/a> about why so many men don\u2019t sing in church. While there has been plenty of speculation about the \u201ceffeminacy\u201d of contemporary worship music<\/a> and its effects on men in churches, most men\u2019s reasons for singing are not so ideological.<\/p>\n
The lower rate of musical participation among men likely has little to do with a dearth of manly marches in today\u2019s churches. It has a lot to do with the male voice itself\u2014its range and patterns of development\u2014and socialization in a culture where so many men are uncomfortable with their own voices. The music isn\u2019t a threat to their masculinity, but they aren\u2019t sure where their voices fit in.<\/p>\n
The stakes of that question\u2014Why aren\u2019t men singing?\u2014vary depending on how we interpret the biblical mandate to sing praise. Many Christians take Paul\u2019s admonition, \u201cLet the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom through psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts\u201d (Col. 3:16) as an explicit directive to sing.<\/p>\n
And yet \u201cit\u2019s acceptable for men not to sing,\u201d said Randall Bradley, Baylor University professor of church music, director of the men\u2019s choir, and director of the Dunn Center for Christian Music Studies. \u201cIn fact, I think the expectation is that men don\u2019t sing.\u201d<\/p>\n
Men hear higher, wider vocal ranges from popular singers and worship leaders; Chris Tomlin and Phil Wickham have famously impressive tenor ranges, far out of reach for most male voices. It\u2019s relatively rare to hear a baritone or bass leading worship on a worship album or at a church that uses contemporary worship music.<\/p>\n
More than a particular musical style, that expectation for vocal range can make it harder for the average guy to have the comfort and confidence to lift his voice on a Sunday morning, said David McNeil Jr., assistant professor of choral studies at Colorado Christian University.<\/p>\n
\u201cAmerican popular music tells you that a good male voice is a high voice,\u201d said McNeil, who, like Bradley, conducts a men\u2019s choir and works as a church music minister. \u201cIf you\u2019re a tenor and you sing in church, you\u2019re more likely to be told, \u2018Wow, you should be a worship leader.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n
Tenors and countertenors have had star power for centuries. In 17th-century Italian opera, castrati (male singers who were castrated to preserve a high vocal range) were cast in the heroic roles; their seemingly superhuman vocal abilities made them figures of fascination. By the 19th century, the castrati had disappeared, and even the tenor had shifted to the more masculine “heroic tenor” (no falsetto) and the bel canto baritone, partly because of public discourse about masculinity.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe prevailing thought was that countertenors and tenors sing from the head, not the chest,\u201d notes Allison McCracken, associate professor of American Studies at DePaul University and author of Real Men Don\u2019t Sing: Crooning in American Culture. \u201cThe barrel-chested baritone was considered more masculine.\u201d<\/p>\n
McCracken\u2019s research explores our persistent fascination with the high male voice and the periodic cultural backlashes against it. She argues that historically, crooners and boy-band tenors have been simultaneously beloved and viewed with hostility. (Think of the mocking of young heartthrobs like Justin Bieber or Justin Timberlake in their teen-idol days.)<\/p>\n
The history of male vocal ranges in popular music isn\u2019t so far afield of contemporary debates about why men don\u2019t sing in church. The dynamics around the high-voiced male in popular music show up in contemporary worship music; the singers we celebrate on stage don\u2019t sound like the average man in the pews.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe people singing on the radio are anomalies,\u201d Bradley noted. \u201cMost men\u2019s voices are bigger, louder than most women\u2019s voices. The vocal folds are larger too.\u201d<\/p>\n
These physical differences put men at a disadvantage if music is pitched awkwardly or if the song calls for a low volume or light tone. Plus, worship leaders may select a song\u2019s key based on their voices, not the congregation\u2019s. The rate of new worship music production also means that songs come and go more quickly<\/a>, often before people have a chance to learn them well enough to sing with confidence.<\/p>\n
Picking the right keys or using more familiar songs won\u2019t fix everything, though. Men who are used to not singing need to learn or relearn how to use their voices, and many congregational songs, new and old, are vocally challenging.<\/p>\n
Hymns, Bradley notes, aren\u2019t necessarily more popular with men, but they are often pitched better for men. In his experience, lyrical contemporary worship music is harder for men to sing not because their stylistic preferences differ but because the dynamics are more arduous for wobbly vocalists.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt can be more difficult for men to sing in pop styles because those styles require subtleties like scooping, singing lightly, or quietly sneaking in. Those are refined skills, and men\u2019s voices tend to be a little clumsier,\u201d said Bradley.<\/p>\n
For most girls and young women, vocal change doesn\u2019t interfere with singing in adolescence as dramatically as it does for men, giving them more time to develop their voices and the ability to sing sensitively or integrate stylistic flourishes.<\/p>\n
Guys go through awkward stages of vocal change that start in puberty and can continue into their late 20s. Without affirmation and encouragement to keep singing and honing their voices during this time, many men choose to stop singing altogether. They come to think of their voices as ugly.<\/p>\n
McNeil says he regularly hears nearly identical stories from older men in his church choir about being put down by music teachers. \u201c\u2018My fourth grade teacher told me I just sound bad.\u2019 I hear that all the time.\u201d<\/p>\n
Bradley hears similar stories from his singers: \u201cWe have so many people talking about teachers who told them they can\u2019t sing or always put them in the back row.\u201d<\/p>\n
Bradley and McNeil believe that these kinds of negative experiences have helped create a culture where men don\u2019t feel comfortable singing and avoid the embarrassment of being singled out or feeling exposed.<\/p>\n
The good news, said McNeil, is that music educators today are more aware of the sensitivity of guiding male voices, and those stories seem to be less common among younger singers.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe don\u2019t generally think about how personal singing is. It\u2019s incredibly vulnerable,\u201d Bradley said. \u201cWe have to be so gentle when we work with people\u2019s voices.\u201d<\/p>\n
McNeil and Bradley find that their singers are far more concerned about range and singable arrangements than they are about musical style. Neither of them have choir members asking to sing \u201cmanlier\u201d songs.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey will sing anything that touches their hearts or intellect,\u201d said Bradley. \u201cThey are openhearted. They don\u2019t complain about repertoire. They don\u2019t care about worship wars.\u201d<\/p>\n
McNeil\u2019s men\u2019s choir, a small ensemble with 12\u201315 members, sings selections from a broad range of genres: arrangements of contemporary worship songs, classical standards, and modern choral works. He finds that emotional expressivity in any genre is something that most men are comfortable with.<\/p>\n
\u201cIn my experience, they are looking for a full range of expression,\u201d said McNeil.<\/p>\n
At Baylor, Bradley finds that men are looking for emotional and relational depth when they join the men\u2019s choir. Every fall, the group goes on an overnight retreat; 70 young men travel to a small church outside Waco to rehearse, do some grilling, and square off in a much-anticipated dodgeball match between upper- and lowerclassmen. There\u2019s a lot of laughter, deep conversations, and hours of singing.<\/p>\n
\u201cSinging in a choir is like building a house together,\u201d said Carson Hooker, president of the Baylor Men\u2019s Choir. He grew up in a Christian Reformed church singing a blend of traditional hymns (often accompanied by his grandmother on the organ) and contemporary worship music, and has been singing in choirs since fifth grade.<\/p>\n
The Baylor choir retreats, he says, strengthen the sense of community and purpose among the group. His first was awkward, but mostly because everyone attended via Zoom because of the pandemic. It\u2019s hard to feel connected when you\u2019re singing remotely<\/a>.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m fascinated by the comfortableness of men singing with other men,\u201d said Bradley, the ensemble\u2019s director. \u201cSinging is an expression of your whole self.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t think there is nearly as much stigma about singing as there used to be. And young men today are more comfortable choosing their version of masculinity and accepting different choices,\u201d said Bradley. \u201cFor the church, it\u2019s a really hopeful place to be.\u201d<\/p>\n
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