How Modern Worship is Rewriting the Soundtrack of Faith
In the convention center at Opryland, 6,500 attendees recently raised their voices in song. But the music that filled the halls was far from the stereotypical, emotionally charged “secen-eleven” songs that have come to define contemporary worship. Here, the crows, a diverse group of boomers and Gen Z, were singing “All People That on Earth Do Dwell” from a hymnal.
This scene at the annual Sing! conference, hosted by modern hymn writers Keith and Kristyn Getty, represents a pivot in the multi-billion dollar worship music industry. It signals the arrival of a “post-hymnal era” where tradition and modernity are being carefully orchestrated into a new sound for the global church.
The transformation of worship music is a story about a battle for theological depth in an age of commercialized “Jesus music.” For decades, the landscape was dominated by the choruses of Hillsong and Elevation Worship. These songs were often criticized for their emotional focus and lack of scriptural depth. A study by worship scholars at East Texas Baptist University analyzing the CCLI Top 100 songs, which represent the most sung music in churches, found that nearly half of the most popular songs contain no explicit reference to the Gospel story.
The pendulum appears to be swinging back. The “modern hymn movement,” spearheaded by artists like the Gettys, is positioning itself as a theological antidote to “shallow praise”
“The theology in the music is sound, Reformed, and historically rooted,” said Daniel Troy, a volunteer at the Getty conference. “And it’s truly congregational, It’s singable.”
The Gettys, known for global anthems like “In Christ Alone,” have built a brand around the concept of “singing theology.” Their appeal lies in lyrical density and a commitment to scriptural turh, a feature that attracts a generation disillusioned with the industry’s excesses. Their latest hit, “Christus Victor (Amen).” waves a narrative from Exodus to Revelation, a stark contrast to the “dumb six-line songs” Keith Getty jokes about on stage.
The desire for authenticity is also driving a surge in adapting ancient texts. Recent years have seen pop versions of the third-century hymn “Phos Hilaron” (the first known Christian hymn) and global mashups like Ricky Kej’s fusion of the hymn “Abide With Me” with Indian music and Black gospel choirs. Even the Church of Jese Christ of Latter-day Saints has moved toward ecumenical unity, including classics like “Amazing Grace" and “Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing” in its new global hymnbook.
However, this renaissance is not without its complications and contradictions. THe worship music industry is dominated by a few magechurches and publishing houses that determine what millions sing on Sunday morning. While the push for theological depth is growing, critics point to a glaring omission: lament.
Even the revival of hymns is raising philosophical questions. When Chris Tomlin, the king of modern worship, adapts a third-century Greek hymn, he essentially creates a “Ship of Theseus” puzzle: if you change the language, the tune, and the arrangement, is it the same ancient hymn or a new song wearing a vintage costume?
As worship leaders grapple with the tension between tradition and trend, the future of congregational music seems to rest on a single question: Is the purpose of worship music to make the congregation feel good, or to “teach the Scriptures, evangelize the world, and reach whole families”? For an increasing number of believers, the answer is a decisive return to the depths of the text.
https://digitalcommons.memphis.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=4827&context=etd#25#22
https://www.etbu.edu/etbu-now/news/2025/05/etbu-students-examine-what-church-really-singing#1
https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/trevin-wax/new-getty-song/
