There is a Worship Music Industry. I'm Not Panicking (yet).

Those making art for the church know that the love of money will always invade the process. But talking with artists has been an antidote for cynicism.

Last month I reported on a new recording and revision of the hymn “How Great Thou Art” for Christianity Today. It’s one of the few hymns that has remained part of the American canon of Protestant hymns that we could arguably call “national hymns”: sacred songs that live in the public imagination as signposts of Christian practice and tradition. The roster of artists involved in the project is impressive for anyone familiar with the current landscape of popular contemporary worship music: Matt Redman, Mitch Wong, Chris Tomlin, Matt Maher, Kari Jobe, Cody Carnes, Naomi Raine, to name a few.

When I started writing about music and congregational worship for CT, I did not expect to spend much time talking with influential worship artists and Christian celebrities. I’m a musicologist; I didn’t set out to become a music journalist (although, high school Kelsey, working in the music section of her local Christian bookstore, DREAMED of being a music journalist and working for Relevant Magazine). I don’t review music, and when I cover a new release like “How Great Thou Art/Until That Day,” it’s usually in the context of another topic or trend. [Side note: Good music criticism / reviewing is an art, and I find it very intimidating.]

But every now and then, I get to talk with someone whose music shaped my spiritual life and taught me to participate in musical worship as an adolescent. Matt Redman is one of those artists. “Blessed Be Your Name” will forever live in my brain, fingers, and vocal chords. I led that song at countless youth group and Cru meetings as a student. I sang “10,000 Reasons” at my sister’s wedding with my two other sisters (that’s a confusing sentence—I’m the oldest of four girls).

So when I spoke with Redman over Zoom, it was surreal to be looking at and talking to a person whose voice I’ve been hearing for over twenty years.

Someone asked me a few months ago if I find it hard not to be cynical about contemporary praise and worship. They wondered if it was uncomfortable for me to attend a church that uses a lot of “big four” music (which I do), while writing about the worship music industry. I’ve written about nostalgia marketing, the declining number women writing popular worship music, and how megachurch scandals impact our perception of the music they produce.

The worship music industry is increasingly integrated into the mainstream entertainment industry. And it’s true, I spend a lot of time thinking about how that enmeshment is affecting the worship of the church. What does it mean for our singing and music-making to be so deeply influenced by the norms and financial incentives of the music industry? That’s not a new question. Musicians and congregations have wrestled with this for decades.

Writing about the trends and changing landscape of the worship music industry hasn’t made me cynical, I don’t think. I do occassionally encounter a trend or statistic that I find troubling—did you know that most women who have written a chart-topping worship song over the past 30 years are married to their cowriter? Women are more likely to gain access to influential songwriting circles if they are married to another writer in that circle. Just one way the Billy Graham rule reverberates through the Christian music industry.

And yet, conversations like the one I had with Matt Redman tend to counteract the angst I might be feeling about the industry on any given day.

It wasn’t a long conversation—forty-five minutes or so. But after I signed off and started looking over my notes, I saw this beautiful collection of insights about songwriting, leadership, and theology. Redman pointed out that the most powerful, enduring hymns and songs encompass reenactment, realization, and anticipation—they tell the gospel story, invite worshippers to internalize or apply its meaning, then turn our attention to recreation and the coming kingdom (he cited the example, “There is a Redeemer” by Melody Green).

He described how the inhale-exhale pattern of the verse-chorus structure allows us to take in and sing doctrine or a big theological idea, then respond through a simple, catchy refrain. That part of our conversation changed how I feel about adding new choruses to old hymns. I’ve been solidly on team leave the songs alone!, but I appreciated Redman’s articulation of why it’s helpful to have a moment to praise, to “exhale,” between or after the wordy verses of “Praise to the Lord” or “Before the Throne.” [I’m still not sold on adding choruses to Christmas carols… maybe I’ll come around some day.]

Most of the artists and worship leaders I talk to are earnestly and prayerfully trying to create and use music to serve the church. As the entertainment industry increasingly invests in worship music (it is proving profitable), these artists are trying to faithfully serve, regardless of which conglomerate acquires their label. When I write about the industry, my hope is that readers can see the distinction between criticizing individual artists and criticizing or questioning the structures and norms of the industry.

Are there days when I want to write a really spicy take on a particular music video or performance by a worship artist? Sure. Have I walked away from an interview discouraged by something I heard? Yes.

For churches wanting to divest from the worship music industry, there are indie worship artists creating incredible art. For churches wanting to empower songwriters and produce grassroots music for their local congregations, there are resources.

You might be reading this and wondering, “what’s your point?” That’s fair. I’m not sure I have a “point” to make exactly. I wrote about Redman’s new project and got to talk to him in the process. It was a great conversation, and it made me think about how the song and interview fit in the reporting I’ve been doing about the industry. That’s it. *shrugs*

In a future essay, I might write about how hymns like “How Great Thou Art” are not at all static, and have been evolving since their inception (despite increasingly restrictive use of copyright law to codify their musical and lyrical content). I’ll certainly revisit the issue of women being excluded from and marginalized in the worship industry—there’s a lot to say about that.

But for now, I’m sitting on the hopeful side of both/and. The worship music industry is producing songs that help facilitate congregational worship around the world. There are sincere, wise, talented artists contributing to that process. My cynicism won’t help them do their work. But genuinely curious research and reporting might help them and others in the church ask better, deeper questions about the shape and ethics of musical worship.

P.S. What I’m reading this week and some recommendations:

I’m listening to this EP by Saint Augustine’s Music, which I wrote about last year in an article about independent worship artists. I find myself going back to the song “As I Am Still.” I sing it to my kids at night.

If you follow me on social media, you’ve likely seen posts about the book I’m writing with my wonderful co-author, Marissa Burt. We are writing about the history of popular Christian parenting literature and the ideologies and agendas that have shaped it. Our working title is In the Way They Should Go: How the Christian Parenting Empire Shaped a Generation of Evangelicals—and Where We Go from Here. We’re thrilled to be working with Brazos Press on this project (forthcoming fall ‘25).

This week, I’m finishing R.L. Stollar’s The Kingdom of Children: A Liberation Theology, which I highly recommend to anyone interested in developing a vocabulary to advocate for the ethical treatment of children. I’m also revisiting James Cone’s Black Theology & Black Power. Liberation theology provides a fruitful framework for explaining why Christian defenses of authoritarian parenting practices are counter to the example of Christ.

Last week, I had an article in Christianity Today about tradwives and fundamentalism. It’s the product of months of research on Christian tradwife content and interviews with women who have experienced the confining reality of “trad” life.

Finally, the Christian music world lost an icon last week: Michael Knott died at the age of 61. I wrote an obituary for CT. You may not have heard of Knott or his many bands (Lifesavors, L.S. Underground, Aunt Bettys, Cush), but if you have had any interaction with the Christian alternative music scene during the last 30 years, you have encountered his legacy. He helped found Tooth & Nail Records and cultivated the thriving alternative scene of the 90s and 00s.

Give a listen to Knott’s alternative worship album or the rock opera he made with L.S. Underground, The Grape Prophet, which is a musical take-down of Bob Jones, Mike Bickle, and the Kansas City prophets.