The words we sing in worship matter

I reflect on the 1985 version of Twila Paris's "He Is Exalted" and its 2020 rewritten counterpart in the Mennonite hymnal, Voices Together.

I hadn’t sung Twila Paris’s “He Is Exalted” for years, until last Sunday. I grew up singing the 1985 classic and appreciated its familiar melody, as we sang together. Our congregation uses Voices Together, Mennomedia’s 2020 Mennonite hymnal, and the Mennonite Worship and Song Committee offered a new rendition of the song, titled, “You Are Exalted.” The version that’s published in VT has decidedly different lyrics than Paris’ classic version.

In general, I’m not very particular about keeping songs the same as they always have been. Times change, and sometimes altering language that is outdated, even offensive, is appropriate. I believe it is in those best of intentions that the committee edited Twila Paris’s lyrics. And while it did accomplish the goal of using less gendered and feudalistic language, some of the power of the original song was lost.

Let’s look at the two versions. Here’s the 2020 version from the Mennonite Worship and Song Committee:

“You are exalted, forever exalted on high. I will praise you. You are exalted, forever exalted, and I will praise your name!

“You are my God—forever your truth shall reign. Heaven and earth rejoice in your holy name. You are exalted, forever exalted on high!”

And here’s the original 1985 version:

“He is exalted, The King is exalted on high. I will praise Him. He is exalted, forever exalted, and I will praise His name!

“He is the Lord—forever His truth shall reign. Heaven and earth rejoice in His holy name. He is exalted. The King is exalted on high!”

Both versions offer the same meaning: God is to be exalted. I appreciate the 2020 version’s direct address of God. One could say that it is more worshipful to directly address God than to talk about God.

Changing the pronouns from third-person to second-person isn’t the only change, however. Every instance of Twila Paris’s use of “King” and “Lord” is changed, as well. Those two terms—King and Lord—are masculine and carry with them the connotations of feudalism and monarchy. They are words that we don’t often use in our Western, liberal context. Although they are biblical, they can trigger reactions that aren’t helpful. I honor the committee for their changes, because I don’t think it is good enough to merely say, “too bad,” when language offends. Such changes are important.

All of that notwithstanding, the adjusted language feels somehow inadequate to me. The whole premise of the song is rooted in exalting God, which can be defined as: placing God at a high or powerful level; holding God in high regard. The edits that remove the language of “King” and “Lord” reduce that exaltation.

The rewording changes the song from a political anthem about the power and office of the Most High to one that feels more like a personal relationship with God. It diminishes the political power of God’s presence and authority in the world. It reduces the presence of God to a personal one that is just for the singer. These edits are reminiscent of Evangelical Christianity, which also reduces God to a personal savior. This is convenient for those in power because it promotes a Christianity that is individualistic. It is important for the state to protect the freedom to worship, but this rendering also neuters the power and presence of God.

God is to be exalted as a higher power than any other. God alone is to be worshiped. This is not a confessional statement. It is not a personal statement. It is a deeply political statement. Worshiping God and God alone as the Most High—the one to be exalted—and yes, as King and Lord—is a declaration that no other political power can assume a role in God’s office. Worshipers of God are declaring their political fidelity to God. They are protesting any false god put in that high place.

I think this is a hard-won lesson for many Americans. In the United States, religion and faith are largely personal. Oftentimes, decidedly political language has led to conquest and colonialism. It has forced conversion and the violent spread of Christianity.

This isn’t a new idea. David, in 2 Samuel 7, who lives in a simple tent, wants to build a Temple for God. Nathan, the prophet, gives David a building permit, essentially, to do so. But when Nathan tells God of the plans, God responds: “Are you the one to build me a house to live in? I have not lived in a house since the day I brought up the people of Israel from Egypt to this day, but I have been moving about in a tent and a tabernacle. Wherever I have moved about among all the people of Israel, did I ever speak a word with any of the tribal leaders of Israel, whom I commanded to shepherd my people Israel, saying, ‘Why have you not built me a house of cedar?’”

God wants to be free and not constrained by a human-made residence. Worshipers who preserve the political language of “King” and “Lord” but use it to advance their own political agenda miss the point of the exaltation of God. In fact, when they purpose God’s political office for their ends, they fail to exalt God, and in fact, exalt themselves.

The Mennonite Worship and Song Committee rightfully avoids this pitfall in its edit, but it also weakens God to a personal savior. The power of God and the height of God’s political office, alone, means that Christians don’t need to advance a Christian political agenda for God’s sake. God already roams freely throughout the world. God already reigns. Our job is to worship God in the offices that God already dwells in. We find refuge when we declare God King and Lord. We don’t need to do more than that, and that includes editing out the political language in songs meant to declare the highest office of God.

But other issues remain. The terms “King” and “Lord” hold with them other, potentially harmful meaning, and they are worth interrogating. The words themselves don’t need preservation, but their meanings do. The version of “He Is Exalted” in Voices Together fails to preserve that meaning, and so it maybe useful to consider what terms might.

Often, I have translated “Lord” to “Adonai” (the Hebrew term that is used to replace the Tetragrammaton in the Hebrew Bible), or to “Most High” in my own biblical transition. I have substituted “Ruler” or “Monarch” for King to preserve the monarchical language without the gendered language. Another term for King that is perhaps more poetic is “Sovereign.” In these words, I try to keep the political power of the “King” and “Lord,” while losing the masculine meaning. The political meaning may make us uncomfortable, I understand, because of Christianity’s sordid history of colonialism and the emergent threat of Christian Nationalism. But I hope that the sovereignty of God and God’s Most High office helps us to remember that those who use it for their political gain are in fact making themselves Most High. Exalting God, then, is a rebuke of Christian power and supremacy.

Here’s an edit of the song that I’ll use in my own worship, perhaps it will be useful to you, too.

“You are exalted, the Sovereign’s exalted on high. I will praise you. You are exalted, forever exalted, and I will praise your name!

“You are Most High—forever your truth shall reign. Heaven and earth rejoice in your holy name. You are exalted, the Sovereign’s exalted on high!