It’s Not Just About Music, but About the Gospel
It is hard to find a Christian who does not have an opinion about music in worship.
Some say, “Music is just the wrapping, a pleasant accompaniment, but in the end it is neutral; what really matters is the lyrics.” Others respond with equal certainty, “No, music itself already communicates moral values; certain styles are good or bad in themselves, regardless of how or where they are used.”
In this debate, two voices have been especially influential in the conservative Reformed world: Scott Aniol, with Sound Worship (published in Spanish as Sonidos de adoración), and John Makujina, with his book Measuring the Music. Both, each on his own level—Aniol in a more pastoral and practical way, Makujina in a more academic and technical way—defend the second position: that musical pieces in themselves possess a moral meaning and must be regulated with a weight similar to that of the Word in worship.
We recognize the good intention behind this effort: to protect the church from an aesthetic relativism that trivializes worship and to affirm the need for reverence and prudence in what we offer to God. That zeal is commendable.
But, as we will see, the solution they propose is not only mistaken, but dangerous. If we follow their system to the end, we end up with a distorted view of the Gospel itself. For that reason, although we appreciate their concern for the purity of worship, we must reject clearly and strongly the answer they offer.
A “Law” That Displaces the Cross
The solution these authors propose is that we embrace the priority of what they call the bioacoustic model of musical signification. According to them, this model explains how music communicates moral values. Their central idea is basically that the universe is governed by a kind of natural law—like gravity—that determines the range of emotions with which human beings may respond when hearing certain musical structures, together with the moral value of that range. We will call it the bioacoustic law from here on.
Both Makujina and Aniol affirm that certain combinations of sounds naturally awaken specific emotions. A bright, fast melody communicates joy, while a slow one in minor keys expresses sadness. But beyond describing emotions, those structures also communicate a moral value: some are associated with ordered and virtuous attitudes, and others with fallen or disordered emotions. For them, these reactions do not depend on taste or culture, but on how the body responds, by divine design, to this natural law inscribed in creation.
Together with this model, they recognize two other levels in which music also communicates: the cultural and the personal. The first explains how each people associates certain sounds with emotions or meanings according to its history, and the second refers to the intention of the musician and the perception of the listener. However, in their system, both levels are subject to the bioacoustic one, which sets the limits of what can be felt and expressed. Cultural or personal differences only change the outward form, not the substance. Ultimately, we would all respond to the same natural law inscribed in sound, which determines the range—and the moral value—of the emotions that are possible.
This conclusion does not remain in the realm of theory. The authors apply it directly when judging concrete musical styles, especially rock, which they regard as incompatible with Christian ethics. Makujina affirms that “The body language of rock is not a neutral cultural accessory… it is the language of illicit sexuality… It would therefore be more than mandatory to exclude this form of bodily expression from any participation in Christian culture.” (Makujina, 2016, chap. 2, “Rock Music and Body Image,” section “Conclusion,” para. 1). Later he broadens that condemnation by claiming that “We should not assume that other forms of rock music are now permissible… in fact, most forms of rock convey rebellion… literally every bar seems to signal rebellion.” (Makujina, 2016, chap. 5, “Aesthetics, Music and Morality,” section “Conclusion,” para. 8). Thus, the so-called bioacoustic law not only sets the limits of what can be felt or expressed, but also ends up determining which styles must be excluded, turning aesthetic reflection into a kind of musical purity code.
At first glance, this may seem like nothing more than a way of explaining how music works. But in reality, it is a complete description of how morality itself is manifested in art, according to these authors.
How does the model work, according to the authors? (click to see details)
In summary:
According to the authors, music is a natural language of the emotions that imitates the movements of the human body. Its structure has inherent moral value: some forms express virtues and others express disordered passions. Although culture influences it, the bioacoustic law fixes its main meaning. Thus, music directs the soul, affects character, and, with repetition, shapes the listener’s affections.
1. Music as an Emotional Language
Music, they say, is primarily a language of the emotions. When a person feels something—for example, rage—his body produces movements, tones, or rhythms that reflect that state. The bioacoustic law regulates that connection between emotion and sound: the body “translates” the emotion into movement, and music imitates those natural gestures.
“music… is primarily and basically a language of the emotions.”
— Makujina, 2016, app. C, “Expression in Music,” section “Emotions,” para. 1
2. The Natural Order That Guides Musical Forms
The bioacoustic order orients the musician, whether consciously or not, toward bodily patterns that express each emotion. These patterns are not cultural but universal, and therefore are laden with moral value: there are forms that express order, self-control, and nobility, and others that display disorder or lack of restraint.
“Music communicates bioacoustically… to resemble the same qualities in human emotions or the behavior that accompanies them.”
— Makujina, 2016, app. C, “Expression in Music,” section “Bioacustic Signification,” para. 1
“But rhythms and melodies contain representations of anger and mildness, and also of courage and temperance and all their opposites and the other moral qualities… music is not morally neutral and can convey specific meaning in the emotional realm.”
— Makujina, 2016, chap. 4, “Toward the Meaning of Rock Music,” section “Ancients,” paras. 1–4
“Since the biblical references… reveal that music is a language… not all [emotions] of which are upright and virtuous, it is only reasonable to conclude that music has the power to communicate evil.”
— Makujina, 2016, chap. 4, “Toward the Meaning of Rock Music,” section “The Bible,” paras. 1–4
3. The Musician as an Imitator of the Body
The musician, when composing or performing, imitates these natural patterns. The musical form thus becomes a bridge between the inner and the outer, between the soul and the sound.
“This [correspondence between human and musical properties] is the bridge between musical qualities and human qualities, which explains how music can possess properties that are literally possessed only by sentient beings.”
— Makujina, 2016, chap. 4, “Toward the Meaning of Rock Music,” section “Ethnomusicology,” para. 4
4. The Body as the Receiver of a Moral Structure
When the piece is played, it conveys an emotional structure with moral value. The listener does not remain indifferent: his body naturally reacts. Loud, fast music excites; soft, slow music calms. These responses do not depend on taste, but on the way God designed the human body.
“Loud, fast music is arousing; soft, slow music is soothing [in the context of his defense of the bioacustic model, in which the body is the natural receiver of the emotion that music communicates along with its moral value]. ”
— Makujina, 2016, app. C, “Expression in Music,” section “Absurdity,” para. 3
5. The Soul Recognizes the Universal Emotional Meaning
The soul immediately recognizes the kind of emotion, because the relationships between music and body are universal and constant.
“Still unlike mathematics or speech,… a sense persists of strong and precise and intimate correspondences between the details of music and bodily properties… Those correspondences which involve kinesthesia in a direct and simple way appear ubiquitous.”
— Makujina, 2016, app. C, “Expression in Music,” section “Bioacustic Signification,” paras. 13–14
6. Culture as Shade, Not as Source
Culture and personal history may have influence, but they do not change the main meaning.
Cultural codes only paint shades on a fixed and universal natural background.
“I defend the primacy of the bioacoustic model… misinterpretations can take place apart from pure relativism.”
— Makujina, 2016, app. C, “Expression in Music,” section “Ethnomusicology,” para. 3
7. Morality as the Soul’s Response
Morality enters in when the soul decides to accept or resist the inclination that the music has produced in the body. Music does not force, but it does orient the heart within an affective framework that already possesses moral value.
“If music affected us without mediation, Saul would not have been successful in resisting…”
— Makujina, 2016, app. C, “Expression in Music,” section “The Hypodermic Model,” para. 3
8. Character Formed by Repetition
Over time, the repetition of certain types of music reinforces those affections and makes them part of one’s character.
“From these considerations, therefore, it is plain that music has the power of producing a certain effect on the moral character of the soul, and if it has the power to do this, it is clear that the young must be directed to music and must be educated in it.”
— Makujina, 2016, chap. 4, “Toward the Meaning of Rock Music,” section “Ancients,” paras. 1–4
“All of our musical choices matter, because all music shapes our affections… even music with non-sacred texts shapes our spirits and either prevents us from being able to rightly appreciate good music or helps us develop the right kinds of affections.”
— Aniol, 2010, chap. 3, “Why Do We Sing in Church?”, section “Conclusion,” para. 5
At first glance, some may still think that this position is harmless, and that even if it were wrong, it would be an exaggeration to see it as an affront to the Gospel itself. However, when we focus on what their system implies for our understanding of sin, it becomes clear that it changes the foundation of our conflict with God, of our reconciliation with God, and of our spiritual life before God.
It Changes the Foundation of Our Conflict with God: Sin.
What separates us from God is the voluntary disobedience that arises in our hearts when we go against His will. The Bible calls this “sin” (Mark 7:21–23; James 1:14–15). But if we keep that definition, we could not accept the following three affirmations that this position requires us to accept:
Affirmation 1
This position requires us to accept that something without a will of its own—the musical structure itself, independently of where it is or of the intentions of its sender or receiver—has a defined moral value: righteous or sinful.
In summary (click to see details):
Makujina argues that music, even without lyrics or context, possesses moral value in itself. The structure of its sounds reflects human qualities—such as temperance or lack of restraint—and therefore can communicate good or evil. His bioacoustic model assumes that these sonic relationships are naturally tied to emotions, so that music acts as a moral cause and not merely as an expressive medium.
By Direct Assertion
Makujina openly declares that music—apart from lyrics or context—can communicate moral good or evil.
“That is, can a musical style, apart from the lyrics, communicate good or evil? … It will be seen that music can, in fact, be morally charged and serve as an effective medium for conveying a variety of ideas, feelings, and behaviors, which can be either compatible or incompatible with Christian ideals.”
— Makujina, 2016, chap. 4, “Toward the Meaning of Rock Music,” section “Introduction,” paras. 1–3
“Since the biblical references to music examined here reveal that music is a language in itself, capable of expressing feelings, emotions, and moods, not all of which are upright and virtuous, it is only reasonable to conclude that music has the power to communicate evil.”
— Makujina, 2016, chap. 4, “Toward the Meaning of Rock Music,” section “The Bible,” para. 4
These statements explicitly establish that musical form, without reference to text or intention, possesses an intrinsic moral charge. Music is a morally evaluable language in itself.
By Presupposition
The bioacoustic model Makujina defends presupposes that sound structures have an organic relationship with human emotions, and therefore with moral value.
“Thus the bioacoustic model of musical communication, which secures itself in an analogical and organic relationship to the emotions it represents, provides music with a reliable connection to the emotions that it attempts to signify … the bioacoustic scheme [is] the primary gauge in all matters of emotional signification.”
— Makujina, 2016, app. C, “Expression in Music,” section “Absurdity,” para. 12
“Music can be said to be sad when it exhibits these same properties [that humans exhibit when sad]… This is the bridge between musical qualities and human qualities, which explains how music can possess properties that are literally possessed only by sentient beings.”
— Makujina, 2016, chap. 4, “Toward the Meaning of Rock Music,” section “Ethnomusicology,” para. 6
If music “possesses properties that belong only to moral beings,” then its sonic structure participates in ethical categories. The bioacoustic argument presupposes that sound itself has an objective morality inscribed in its natural design, prior to any human use.
By Direct Implication
From his claims about character formation and music’s moral power, it follows that musical form acts as a moral cause, not merely as an expressive medium.
“From these considerations, therefore, it is plain that music has the power of producing a certain effect on the moral character of the soul, and if it has the power to do this, it is clear that the young must be directed to music and must be educated in it.”
— Makujina, 2016, chap. 4, “Toward the Meaning of Rock Music,” section “Ancients,” paras. 1–4
“Music… is fulfilled in relation to playing styles, and stylistic forms, structures of sound and visual concepts of presentation which primarily follow the musician’s value judgments and the meanings they intended.”
— Makujina, 2016, chap. 4, “Toward the Meaning of Rock Music,” section “Sociologists, Musicologists, Composers, and Rock Historians,” para. 2
If a musical structure can produce moral effects—and not merely accompany or symbolize emotions—then its ethical value does not depend on who uses it, but on what it is in itself. In this logic, a sound form may therefore be vicious or virtuous in itself, before any intention or reception.
Affirmation 2
This position requires us to accept that sin can arise from a necessity of nature—that nature itself would reproduce sin automatically in the presence of the musical structure corresponding to it, regardless of the context or the heart of the sender or receiver.
In summary (click to see details):
According to their logic, the moral effects of music arise from universal biological laws that govern how the body reacts to certain rhythms or forms. Morality does not depend on the author’s intention or the listener’s judgment, but on the natural order that God supposedly inscribed in creation. Thus, good or evil is defined by the very structure of sound and its physiological impact, not by a voluntary decision of the heart.
By Direct Assertion
Makujina openly maintains that the effects of music derive from universal biological processes, independent of human intention.
“This does not deny the possibility of some primitive responses to music shared by the whole species. For instance, loud fast music is arousing, whilst soft, slow music is soothing. Certain pitch ranges and timbres seem particularly attractive to infants, as do simple repetitive rhythms.”
— Makujina, 2016, app. C, “Expression in Music,” section “Absurdity,” para. 3
Here Makujina is not speaking of culture, intention, or interpretation, but of a necessary bodily response, inscribed in human biology, that reacts predictably to specific musical structures. Moral good or evil is then anchored in how those forms act upon physiology, not in voluntary judgment.
By Presupposition
The bioacoustic model presupposes that musical structures reproduce bodily functions, and therefore their moral effect does not depend on the subject but on the natural design of the body.
“The self-explaining term ‘bioacoustic’—thankfully provided by Philip Tagg—describes the primitive affinity between certain musical elements and bodily functions.”
— Makujina, 2016, app. C, “Expression in Music,” endnote 46
“It must be understood that there are important limits… and that the connections between music and meanings are not wholly arbitrary… because of our biological natures.”
— Makujina, 2016, app. C, “Expression in Music,” section “Absurdity,” para. 5
The presupposition here is clear: the morality of musical effect—whether just or sinful—does not arise from the soul but from the structure of creation itself. Nature determines the limits of what is possible, and music operates within that framework as a necessary bioacoustic order.
By Direct Implication
Makujina describes music’s ability to penetrate and affect the body without conscious mediation, which implies a kind of compulsory natural causality.
“Musicologists and social scientists furnish evidence that music can in certain instances penetrate human beings directly, in biological rather than strictly psychological ways. … it can in some cases affect us physically, forcing us to respect its capacity to penetrate and even harm the body, the temple of the Holy Spirit.”
— Makujina, 2016, app. C, “Expression in Music,” section “The Hypodermic Model,” para. 9
“…the biological changes that occur when we experience similar emotions are generally the same in everyone. As music accurately encodes those changes through the audible means of melody, rhythm, and harmony, the possibility of cross-cultural musical understanding becomes real.”
— Makujina, 2016, app. C, “Expression in Music,” section “Absurdity,” para. 12
These statements imply that the effect of music does not depend on the voluntary choice of the listener or the purpose of the composer, but on a natural cause-and-effect mechanism: musical structures encode human biological processes and inevitably reactivate them. Therefore, if certain patterns are considered “disordered” or “fallen,” that disorder is automatically transmitted through sound, without any conscious moral participation.
Affirmation 3
This position requires us to accept that sin can be transmitted through material means—through the air and the tissues of the body that receive the sound.
In summary (click to see details):
Makujina describes music as a physical force capable of penetrating the body and affecting its tissues. Sound—the vibration of air—becomes a moral channel through which spiritual influence can be transmitted. Matter, both bodily and acoustic, thus becomes morally intertwined: evil can “travel” through the instrument, the air, and the body to the soul, leaving the heart only to accept or resist a good or an evil already defined outside of itself.
By Direct Assertion
Makujina explicitly acknowledges that music can physically penetrate the human body and affect its biological tissues, transferring moral effect to the material level.
“Musicologists and social scientists furnish evidence that music can in certain instances penetrate human beings directly, in biological rather than strictly psychological ways. … It can in some cases affect us physically, forcing us to respect its capacity to penetrate and even harm the body, the temple of the Holy Spirit.”
— Makujina, 2016, app. C, “Expression in Music,” section “The Hypodermic Model,” para. 9
This statement moves the moral capacity of music to the physical plane: the body becomes the material channel through which sound can exert moral or spiritual influence.
By Presupposition
Makujina begins with the idea that sound is received through biological organs and tissues—created and limited—which introduces a framework of moral responsibility into the relationship between matter and spiritual purity.
“Even though many of these studies are not conclusive, because a sufficient number of them suggest that music affects living organisms—including human beings—negatively and positively, there is enough reason for concern. Further, because music is apprehended through biological organs and tissues (often delicate), which are created, finite, and capable of injury and abuse, music must have at the very least biological controls.”
— Makujina, 2016, chap. 4, “Rock Music and Psychological Studies,” section “Conclusion,” para. 2
The presupposition is clear: bodily matter and sound are morally interconnected. Sin or corruption, therefore, could be transmitted or manifested through the contact between sound and human tissue.
By Direct Implication
Makujina explains that amplified music has a physical power that penetrates the body and cites testimonies confirming it, suggesting that evil can operate through the vibration of air and matter itself.
“Also, since rock is electronically amplified music, it has greater potential to penetrate the human body. Arnett testifies that at a heavy-metal concert, ‘on occasion you can actually feel your ribcage vibrating.’ … The simple point is that an unlimited view of musical parameters does not comport with a finite view of its receptacle, the human body.”
— Makujina, 2016, chap. 4, “Rock Music and Psychological Studies,” section “Conclusion,” para. 2
This implication turns sound—a material vibration of air—into a moral vehicle capable of transmitting spiritual effects. In this logic, sin can “travel” through material means: from the instrument to the air, from the air to the body, and from the body to the soul. And even though the authors claim that the soul can resist, in this conception the heart merely reacts to something already defined as righteous or sinful outside itself.
In summary, to accept these three requirements one would have to stop seeing sin as something tied to the human will—something that arises in the heart itself and occurs within a personal relationship with God.
According to this logic, sin would no longer be a voluntary disobedience of the heart but anything in the universe that, in some way, is not aligned with God’s will. But if certain melodies or rhythms are sinful by their very form—and not only by the intention of those who create and enjoy them—then the problem would not lie merely in people but also in the laws of sound that make it possible.
Yet here a difficult contradiction appears. Some might say that sin still arises from the will and is only expressed through the sound structures that man organizes. But if those structures possess their own moral value—as this position maintains—the human will ceases to play any real role in the origin of evil. If a musical form is good in itself, no impious intention could corrupt it; and if it is bad in itself, no devotion could purify it. Good and evil would be fixed by the very nature of the organization of sound. But that not only eliminates moral freedom; it also introduces a new cause of evil. What began as a decision of the heart would end up reproducing itself automatically each time that structure is performed, as if nature itself generated sin. Thus, evil ceases to be a voluntary choice and becomes a natural necessity inscribed in creation.
And at that point, only two options remain: either God designed laws capable of producing sin naturally, or there exist laws in His creation that act outside His control. In both cases the result is the same: a universe that can turn against its Creator—something unthinkable in the biblical vision.
Some might try to resolve this by saying that God did not bring about the conditions that cause those laws to produce sin, but that it was man who provoked them. But that does not change the problem: if a law can generate evil under certain conditions, then evil was already naturally contained as a possibility within the law itself. It would be as if God had created a moral time bomb that man merely ignited.
Others might say that human beings were also created with the possibility of sinning, but that is not the same. Man sins by moral decision, not by natural necessity. In this position, by contrast, evil would no longer be a choice of the heart but a property of the universe itself—in other words, it would make God the author of evil.
Thus, the problem is not only theoretical but profoundly theological. If evil no longer arises from the heart as something contrary to nature but proceeds from the very laws of creation, then the kind of problem the Gospel comes to solve also changes. It is no longer a matter of personal disobedience but of a flaw in the very order of the world. And if sin is something natural and not moral, then the way of reconciliation with God would also have to be different.
It Changes the Basis of Our Reconciliation with God: Penal Substitution.
What allows us to be reconciled to God is penal substitution. Penal substitution is God’s answer to sin understood as moral and voluntary disobedience of the heart. In it, Christ takes the place of the responsible sinner, assuming the guilt and punishment he deserved for his decision to disobey, in order to satisfy the justice of God and restore the broken communion between man and his Creator (Isa. 53:5–6; Rom. 3:24–26). However, under the concept of sin implied by this position, it could not be sufficient to accomplish its purpose.
Penal substitution deals with moral guilt, not with natural defects. In Scripture, Christ dies in the place of responsible people, not in place of physical laws or structures of the world. But in this position, evil is no longer located in the will but in musical forms that exist only when air vibrates in a certain way. Thus, sin is not separated from its physical medium: every time that sound form is produced, creation itself becomes the channel through which evil manifests. If that were so, Christ would have to die not only for sinners but also for the vibrations of the air that make that form possible. And even if one tried to solve this by saying that guilt arises only when the soul accepts that inclination, the problem remains: that inclination no longer comes from the heart but is written into nature itself.
Furthermore, penal substitution is an act between persons: a guilty party and a substitute. If evil resides in the material world, the conflict ceases to be moral and personal. In that case, what would be needed is not a sacrifice that pays for guilt but a kind of repair of the system. The Gospel, however, does not speak of a technical correction of the universe, but of a reconciliation between persons.
This also changes the nature of redemption. In Scripture, redemption frees people from the power and guilt of sin. It is true that when Christ restores all things, creation itself will be freed from the effects of human sin. But that does not mean that creation itself needs to be redeemed from its own intrinsic evil. If the problem lay within natural laws, the cross would only solve part of it—the moral part but not the structural one. In that case, one would have to imagine a second divine work to purify the design of the universe, as if creation bore an internal defect. Yet Scripture teaches that creation groans for our redemption, not for its own (Rom. 8:19–23).
And finally, the relationship between sin and punishment disappears. If sin can occur without the will, there is no responsibility, and if there is no responsibility, there can be no just punishment. Without real guilt, penal substitution ceases to make sense.
In summary, penal substitution resolves the problem of the heart, but the position in question presents a problem of the universe. Thus, either one redefines the cross to include what the Bible never assigned to it, or one must admit that within this system, the cross is no longer sufficient to reconcile us to God.
And if the cross is weakened, inevitably the life that flows from it is also weakened. What begins as a doctrinal error ends up transforming the way believers relate to God. If the problem is no longer in the heart but in the things around us, faith ceases to rest in grace and begins to revolve around what must be avoided or controlled.
It Changes the Basis of Our Spirituality: Faith Working Through Love in Freedom.
What enables us to live in fellowship with God is a faith that works through love in freedom. Faith rests on grace and revealed truth, not on tangible achievements or human systems of purity. Therefore, the believer does not relate to God by measuring his spirituality according to what he avoids or controls, but by trusting in what Christ has already accomplished.
When the Christian life centers on abstentions and external rules, faith gives way to a subtle form of self-reliance. Paul warns about this in Colossians 2:20–23, when he says that such practices “have indeed an appearance of wisdom in promoting self-made religion and asceticism and severity to the body, but they are of no value in stopping the indulgence of the flesh.” If we believe that our fellowship with God depends on avoiding certain sounds or forms, we are no longer walking by faith in the work of Christ, but by fear of contaminating what He has already purified.
Accepting this position has an inevitable ethical consequence: it changes the basis of our obedience. Instead of depending on the Spirit and the Word to discern good and evil, we end up depending on external rules that tell us which sounds are safe and which are not. It is no longer about loving God with a pure heart, but about avoiding whatever a given system considers impure. Thus, obedience ceases to be the fruit of love and becomes a form of fear.
Furthermore, this position creates a new dependency: that of the musical expert or scholar who knows the bioacoustic laws. According to this logic, only those who understand these laws can rightly discern good and evil in music. But this places technical knowledge in the place of a conscience enlightened by the Word, as if the Holy Spirit were not sufficient to guide believers into the truth (2 Tim. 3:16–17). Aniol tries to justify this by comparing his contribution to that of a nutritionist who helps the believer care for his body (Aniol, 2010, chap. 2, “Is the Bible Enough?”, section “What the Sufficiency of Scripture Does Not Mean,” para. 29). However, the comparison does not hold: a nutritionist can give guidance about what nourishes or harms the body in a given context, but cannot declare foods to be morally “sacred” or “profane.” In the same way, no one has authority to treat certain musical forms as if they were pure or impure by nature. Scripture teaches that everything created by God is good when it is received with thanksgiving (1 Tim. 4:4–5), and that includes sound and music in all their forms.
This dependence is dangerous because it turns a human discipline into a moral authority. What should be a tool to serve the Gospel ends up functioning as a filter that decides what things are or are not pleasing to God. And it does so, not on the basis of Scripture, but on a supposed science that claims to reveal the “spiritual effects” of sound.
For that reason, this kind of knowledge cannot be presented as a supplement subordinated to the Word. In theory, it is offered as a help for discernment, but in practice it establishes a new standard of purity that the Bible does not recognize. Musical academia comes to occupy a place that belongs only to the Spirit and to the conscience instructed by the Word.
In Conclusion: The Heart of the Christian Faith Is Lost.
When what sin is changes, the reason why we need God also changes. When how we are reconciled changes, the meaning of the cross changes. And when the way we live our faith changes, the way we relate to Him changes. What remains is no longer the Christianity of the Gospel, but a version full of rules, fears, and human efforts to maintain a purity that the Bible never required.
In this system, sin no longer arises from the heart, the cross no longer deals with real guilt, and faith no longer rests on grace, but on avoiding what seems dangerous. People keep talking about Christ, but His work ceases to be sufficient. And when that happens, the freedom, joy, and gratitude that come from knowing that what unites us to God is not our precautions but the perfect love of His Son are extinguished.
Beyond Music: A Problem That Multiplies.
What we have said so far would be enough to show that this position cannot be sustained biblically. But it has yet another problem: its reasoning extends further than the authors themselves seem to recognize. They themselves admit that sounds in themselves are not moral. Makujina clarifies this when he says that the biblical passages do not refer to the “qualities of the sound,” but to the type of melody or musical form that is performed:
“Even so, we must go beyond Sendrey since our passages do not refer to ‘sound qualities,’ but to the type of melody that is played on the instruments. This is because the same instrument that embodies sadness in some passages personifies happiness in others. … Therefore, when the Bible identifies specific emotions with musical instruments, it is not referring to their tonal qualities, but to the melodies produced on them.”
— Makujina, 2016, chap. 4, “Toward the Meaning of Rock Music,” section “The Bible,” para. 2
This shows that, for the author himself, the moral suspicion does not fall on the physical sound, but on the structure that organizes those sounds. The moral power, then, would lie in the relationship between the elements, in the way the sounds are combined and move among one another to form a recognizable expression of human emotions.
And it is precisely here that the position becomes unstable. If the moral power of music lies in the form of those relationships—how sounds are ordered, strained, or resolved—then that same structure could also appear in other media. A dance that repeats the same rhythm or movement as a “vicious” melody would retain its same moral charge. A painting that imitates those tensions with lines or colors, or a poem that reproduces the same cadence, would follow the same pattern and, therefore, would have to be regarded as equally problematic.
Worse still, if music is moral because it imitates bodily gestures, then the body itself would be morally judged by its external appearance. But the Lord warns us precisely against that error: “Do not judge by appearances, but judge with right judgment” (John 7:24). This logic turns spiritual discernment into a sensory judgment: what appears disordered or energetic to the eyes is interpreted as impure, without considering the intention of the heart. In this way, purity ceases to be measured by faith and begins to be measured by what is visible, falling into the same formalism that Christ denounced in the Pharisees (Matt. 23:25–28).
And behind all of this there is an even deeper problem: this theory assumes that human beings can produce morally good music by themselves, as if there were works naturally pleasing to God. But Scripture teaches the opposite. Because of the fall, even our best works are stained by sin (Isa. 64:6; Rom. 3:10–12). There is no form, no art, no human emotion that is pure in itself. The only thing that makes any work acceptable before God is the grace of Christ. If we admit that there are melodies or structures that are morally virtuous without reference to the redeemed heart, we would be denying in practice the doctrine of total depravity and affirming that man can please God by nature or technique. Yet all beauty that pleases God proceeds from a transformed heart, not from a well-ordered sound structure. Without the Gospel, even the most refined music would be, as the prophet said, “a filthy rag” before Him.
Ultimately, the point is not to force an equivalence among the arts, but to recognize where this way of thinking leads. When morality is placed in the very form of things, the judgment ends up being extended to every human expression. When purity is measured by what is visible, the discernment of the Spirit is replaced by the judgment of the eyes. And when it is assumed that man can produce moral beauty by himself, we forget that outside of Christ there is no work that can please God. Thus, what began as a defense of holiness ends up denying the grace that makes holiness possible. For it is not forms that purify the worshiper, nor appearances that reveal the heart, nor works that earn divine favor. Only the grace of Christ can do that. And when this is forgotten, sound ceases to flow from the redeemed heart and becomes noise: a human attempt to measure with aesthetics what only the Gospel can transform.
When a Position Changes the Gospel We Live
To adopt this position consistently would not be a merely theoretical decision, but something that would completely change the life of a church. A congregation that wished to embrace it would have to take very concrete measures, because music is present in almost every aspect of life, especially among young people. It would not be enough to teach the Word; musicology would also have to be taught. In fact, one of the authors clearly hints at this, as if understanding the principles of the bioacoustic law were as necessary for holiness as understanding Scripture itself.
1. Teaching and Knowledge
Under this position, the church would have to train its members not only in biblical truth, but also in musical laws. Teachers would have to become experts in the “morality of sound.” And since musicology is not an exact science, it would be necessary to decide which experts are authorized to teach and judge what music is good or bad. Thus, doctrinal authority would no longer rest only on the pastors or on the Word, but also on the approved musicologists. Over time, spiritual discernment would be confused with technical knowledge.
In this way, even if some might wish to treat the issue as something secondary or reserved for more mature Christians, the position itself does not allow it. If sin can be in the music, then it affects everyone, including children and new believers. There would be no way to keep it at the margins without leaving the majority of the church exposed to sin without knowing it.
And even if others prefer to confess these ideas only in a formal way, without really putting them into practice, thinking that they will not have much effect, that indifference also leaves a mark. What a church says it believes, even if it does not live it out, slowly shapes its conscience. Over time, the community learns to divide truth into two levels: one to confess and another to practice. And when faith becomes nominal, obedience ceases to be love and becomes mere custom.
2. Community and Pastoral Life
If music can in practice be treated as vicious because of its form (because of its “fitness” for disordered affections), faults become visible and measurable. Gathering to listen to a “forbidden” song would be a public offense, because it tangibly predisposes the people to sin. The church could not ignore it without betraying its duty, since the position teaches that the problem can be evaluated objectively. Little by little, Christian life would fill up with suspicions, corrections, and warnings. Every gathering and every moment of rest would have to be musically “protected.”
And even if some leaders tried to maintain balance—teaching these ideas but not applying discipline when someone fails—the position would not leave them that space. If sin is measurable and audible, not correcting it would become, in its logic, complicity. Pastoral neutrality would become impossible: one would have to choose between correcting or openly allowing sin.
Moreover, the concept of “world” would also change. It would no longer mean merely a moral or spiritual order opposed to God, but also sound structures or aesthetic styles that would be considered enemies of holiness. To separate from the world would also mean to separate from certain timbres, rhythms, or instruments. Thus, each exhortation to live in holiness would include an aesthetic exhortation as well.
3. Worship and Spiritual Life
In this context, the musical style of congregational singing would cease to be a practical circumstance of worship and would become an essential element of it. If the “profane” predisposes toward disordered affections, then only “pure” forms would be fit before God. Christians would have to focus not only on the lyrics but also on the musical structure, because—according to this position—those structures predispose toward “holy” affections that cannot be neglected. In fact, since there is no neutrality between the holy and the profane, it would be sinful to remain indifferent both to holy music and to profane music, because one cannot despise what is holy or tolerate what is profane. If music is sounding, there must therefore be an act of acceptance or rejection of its influence, depending on the case. It should be noted that this is primarily a matter of personal devotion, and therefore it applies to the whole Christian life.
Over time, spirituality itself would be transformed: it would no longer be a free and loving communion with God, but a carefully controlled experience in which even sound must be monitored so as not to break purity. Faith would cease to rest in the trusting heart (Heb. 5:14; Phil. 1:9–11) and would come to depend on the disciplined ear. And although some might think this is only a minor or technical matter, in practice it would end up defining the entire experience of worship, because every act of worship would be accompanied by an aesthetic decision that could, potentially, be sinful.
In summary, a church that faithfully adopted this position would change its teaching, its community life, and its worship. Even if one tried to treat the issue as secondary or to apply it with caution, the logic of the system itself would make that impossible. The result would be a watchful, technical, and fearful faith, where purity is no longer measured by love for Christ, but by the frequency of the sound that is heard.
Returning to the Gospel That Orders Heart, Culture, and Creation
The solution does not come from changing forms, but from changing the heart. The Gospel does not teach us to distrust creation, but to let Christ redeem it through transformed people. Therefore, the biblical answer does not eliminate the three levels these authors mention, but places them in their proper order: under the reign of the King.
The Personal Level: The Redeemed Heart
In Scripture, the most important level is not that of natural laws or cultural customs, but that of the heart. Jesus said that from the heart come evil thoughts, adulteries, envies, and all wickedness (Mark 7:21–23; Prov. 4:23). The heart is the center of our relationship with God and the place where the moral meaning of everything we do is decided. When Christ reigns in the heart, He cleanses it and orders it so that it loves what God loves. Then the emotions, gestures, and forms that were once used for sin can be put at the service of what is good.
The Cultural Level: The Redeemed Community
Culture in itself is not God’s enemy, even though sin distorts it. By culture we do not simply mean the sum of customs or fashions of a given country—like the political culture of Chile or the popular traditions of any nation—but the human capacity, given by God, to organize life and express values through language, art, work, family, and social forms. It is the way in which people, in a finite way, reflect what they believe, love, and value.
Therefore, the work of Christ does not destroy culture but purifies it. Under His lordship, each people can learn to express the faith with its own language, rhythm, and sensibility, as long as it does so with truth, love, and reverence. The Holy Spirit does not erase differences; He orders them to serve the same purpose: to glorify God in every tongue and nation, within the limits that holiness and wisdom set.
The Bioacoustic Level: Redeemed Creation
The most basic level, the bioacoustic level, belongs to creation itself. Sound, rhythm, and movement are not moral in themselves, but tools that God has given us to express beauty and worship. They are not enemies but instruments (Gen. 1:31; 1 Tim. 4:4–5). Redemption does not destroy matter or replace it; it restores it to its proper place, in the service of the Creator. This beauty is not a cold or abstract perfection that resides in the forms themselves, but a living and relational beauty that reflects God’s character as it is embodied in acts of truth, goodness, and love. It is a beauty that can be manifested in finite, human ways without losing its value, because its source is not in the form but in communion with the God who makes everything beautiful in its time (Eccl. 3:11).
And even if we were to grant that sound has real effects on the body and emotions—because God Himself made them possible in His design of creation—that does not oblige us to treat them as if they had their own moral value. That something produces a physical reaction does not mean we must regard it as righteous or sinful before God; these are two distinct categories, and Scripture never unites them in that way. In other words, we can acknowledge the reality of natural effects without turning them into moral principles.
The moral weight appears only when those natural influences are integrated into the cultural context and, above all, under the intention of the heart before the Lord. For this reason, we do not need to measure or scientifically describe such effects in order to discern spiritually. The issue is not how much music influences the body, but whether that influence is submitted to Christ’s lordship in the believer’s conscience. Ultimately, even if the body reacts, it is the redeemed heart that determines whether that movement serves good or evil.
When these three levels are ordered correctly, they no longer compete with each other. Sound form serves culture; culture submits to truth; and everything is surrendered to the heart that loves Christ. Thus, the believer does not fear music, but uses it with gratitude. He does not idolize it, but neither does he reject it. He lives in freedom, knowing that what sanctifies is not the structure of sound but the Spirit of God who dwells in him.
Practices That Honor the Gospel in Music
Having understood that forms have no moral charge in themselves, and that the meaning of music arises from the interaction between creation, culture, and the heart, the next step is to learn to walk wisely within that truth. Practical faithfulness does not consist in avoiding sounds, but in using freedom to love God and neighbor with discernment. If there are real bodily effects, the heart governs them, not the other way around.
General Rules for Christian Life
IN THE PERSONAL AND PRIVATE SPHERE
On a personal level, when we listen to music alone, the question is not whether a melody “is holy,” but whether we can enjoy it with a grateful heart before the Lord and a clear conscience. If, when hearing it, we remember His goodness and are moved to give Him glory, there is no guilt in it (1 Tim. 4:4–5; 1 Cor. 10:31). But if it leads us to pride, vanity, or sensuality, the problem is not in the sound but in our own heart. And if in our particular case that music ends up being an occasion for sin, the wise thing is to abstain—not because the sound is guilty, but out of loving obedience to the Lord who commands us to cut off what makes us stumble (Matt. 5:29–30).
It is also helpful to distinguish between receiving music directly, when it is performed in the presence of the listener, and receiving it indirectly, through a recording device. In the direct experience, music includes not only the sound but also the presence, intention, and expression of the performer; there communication is complete, and authorial intention carries greater weight—as in any interaction where “bad company corrupts good morals” (1 Cor. 15:33). By contrast, when we receive it indirectly—through a recording or electronic medium—the personal bond is weakened. The work arrives separated from the act that produced it, and the listener can enjoy it with greater freedom, guided by his own conscience. This does not mean that everything is appropriate or beneficial, but it does relocate moral responsibility: it no longer depends on the author’s intention, but on the way the believer receives and uses it before God.
In Community with the Weak and in Public
When we share music with others—whether among friends, in gatherings, or in small groups—we must also consider its effect on them. If someone is weak in the faith or has a sensitive conscience, it is better to abstain from what could cause that person to stumble. And even when we do not know with certainty the level of spiritual maturity of those with us, the wisest thing is to act with the same prudence: to prefer what edifies everyone rather than what may trouble some. In such cases, true freedom is expressed in denying oneself for the sake of the other (Rom. 14:1–23; 1 Cor. 8:9–13).
In Community with the Strong
By contrast, among mature brothers and sisters with a clear conscience, decisions can be made by consensus and prudence. Not everything that is lawful is beneficial, but when there is mutual love and respect, the people of God can freely enjoy the good things He has created.
The final judgment, on a personal level, is made by each heart before the Lord; but when it comes to sharing, consideration for others is the practical way to follow Christ.
The Choice of Music in Public Worship
In congregational worship, the criterion is not personal taste, but obedience to the Word. The music of worship must serve, as much as possible, the purpose that God has established for worship: to build up the body, exalt Christ, and reflect His order.
- Congregational, not spectacular.
Music must be designed so that the whole congregation can participate, not so that a few may shine. The pieces should facilitate mutual exhortation, where each believer is both sender and receiver of the message (Col. 3:16). - In spirit and in truth.
Melodies and accompaniments should direct attention to the lyrics, which must be theologically rich and Christ-centered. They should not be overloaded with embellishments or instruments that overshadow the message. Music is the servant of the text, not its protagonist (John 4:23–24). - With order and decency.
Congregational music should reflect the clarity and order that characterize God’s work (1 Cor. 14:26, 33, 40). This implies avoiding styles or forms with cultural associations clearly opposed to the Gospel, and promoting unity around one message and purpose.
In this way, music—both in private and in public—fulfills its true purpose: to serve love, edification, and the glory of God. It does not become a burden or a source of division, but a means by which the people of God can live out their freedom in gratitude. For in the end, what sanctifies is not the form or the sound, but the heart that sings in faith to the Lord who redeemed it.
And if we apply these principles sincerely in our time, we will see that the church, naturally and without coercion, will tend toward reverent, simple, and Word-centered worship. This may be expressed in traditional hymns or in new compositions that share the same spirit of clarity, truth, and sobriety. There is no need for a bioacoustic model to determine what is holy or profane; all that is needed is a heart governed by the Gospel, a conscience guided by the Word, and a community that seeks to please God with understanding and love.
Guarding the Gospel by Singing with Understanding
The church of Christ has not been called to live in fear, but with discernment and freedom. Our duty is not to police sounds, but to care for hearts. The purity God demands does not arise from external rules, but from a love that is nourished by truth (1 John 4:18; 2 Tim. 1:7).
Correcting these errors does not mean going backwards, but moving forward into more faithful worship and more conscious faith. Church history shows that every generation must return to examine its foundations and, when necessary, cleanse the altar of ideas foreign to the Gospel. This is one of those moments. It is not only about rejecting a position, but about rediscovering the beauty of a freedom guided by the Word and by the Spirit.
The Reformed church does not fear changing what must be changed, but it fears even more losing what makes it a church: the Gospel of Christ. Therefore, we persevere in the path of wisdom, loving the truth, serving in humility, and singing with understanding. For as long as the heart worships in spirit and in truth, the people of God will remain a living testimony of the grace that makes all things new. And thus, faithful to its calling, the Reformed church continues to be ecclesia reformata semper reformanda secundum verbum Dei: a church always being reformed according to the Word of God.