Can We Sing That?

Thoughts on Worship Songs, Songwriters, and What Matters Most

 

At Freedom Church, I’m often asked questions like:
“Should we sing that song, given what we’ve heard about the songwriter?”
“Can we use songs from that church if we don’t agree with all their theology?”

Honestly, I get it. I’ve asked those same questions myself. It’s right and good to care about what we sing. Songs shape our faith, often more than sermons do. They live in our hearts long after the service is over. So it matters – a lot.

But over the years, I’ve come to see this in a slightly different light. It’s not about lowering the bar. It’s about raising the right one.

Because if we’re looking for perfectly pure songs from perfectly pure people, we’re going to end up singing to a very empty room.

The Heart Behind the Song

Here’s the truth: every song we sing in church was written by an imperfect person. Every hymn writer, every modern worship artist, every anonymous psalmist – all of them were flawed, struggling, growing human beings. Just like you and me.

David, who gave us so many of the Psalms, was a deeply complex man – a passionate worshipper, a courageous leader… and someone who committed adultery and arranged a murder. Yet we sing his words every week.

Paul was accused of being harsh and divisive. Peter wavered under pressure. Even the early church communities had their theological blind spots and relational fallouts.

And yet, somehow, God worked through it all.

That’s not to excuse poor character. Character matters. But it reminds me that the power of a worship song isn’t locked inside the personal perfection of its writer.
It’s in the truth the song declares, and the hearts of the people singing it.

Discernment Matters – But So Does Grace

At Freedom, we do filter our songs carefully. We ask:

• Does this song point clearly to the person and work of Jesus?

• Is it biblically faithful, or at least biblically consistent in spirit and message?

• Does it build up the church in hope, faith, and love?

If a song majorly contradicts the gospel, we’ll pass – no matter how catchy it is.
But if a song reflects God’s truth and stirs the heart to worship, we’re far less concerned about where it came from.

That includes songs from movements like Bethel or Hillsong – both of which have faced strong criticism at times.
We don’t uncritically endorse everything associated with them. But neither do we throw out every song wholesale.
We take each song on its own merits, ask for wisdom, and trust the Spirit to guide us.

We want to be discerning... without becoming suspicious.
Wise... without becoming cynical.
Thoughtful... without becoming fearful.

Because fear kills worship a lot faster than theological complexity does.

Ownership Matters Too

Another thing I’ve realised: once a song is given to the church, it doesn’t belong to the writer anymore. It belongs to the community of believers who sing it.

The meaning of a song isn’t fixed by its origin story. It’s shaped and reshaped by the people who carry it into worship.

I've seen this happen firsthand.
A song that was written in one context takes on a whole new life when sung by a different church, a different community, in a different moment. The Spirit breathes fresh meaning into it, right there and then.

I've worked a few times with a gospel singer, where he's sung a folk song that, on paper, some people might have had some reservations about. But in that moment – the words we sang became a heartcry. God met us, moved among us, and ministered through that song in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with who wrote it and everything to do with who we were singing to.

That’s worship.
That’s grace.

The Danger of “Guilt by Association”

One trend I’m cautious of is what I’d call “guilt by association” thinking.

The idea goes like this:
“If a songwriter (or their church) has questionable theology, then any song they wrote must be tainted.”
“If we sing it, we’re endorsing everything they believe.”

But that logic falls apart pretty quickly.

We don’t apply that standard anywhere else in life.
We quote authors who aren’t flawless.
We use resources made by people we wouldn’t entirely agree with.
We even read and love the Psalms without feeling the need to defend everything David ever did.

If we demanded perfect origin stories before embracing anything, we’d have to throw out half the Bible – and probably our own testimonies too.

Worship isn't about who wrote the song.
It's about who we're singing to.

Pastoral Sensitivity – and Trust

Of course, sometimes there are pastoral considerations.
If a song is freshly tied to a controversy, or if singing it might genuinely unsettle the church family rather than build them up, wisdom says: pause. Give space. Choose the most loving path.

Leading worship is never about flexing our musical taste. It’s about shepherding people toward Jesus.

But – and this is important – part of healthy leadership is also helping people grow in grace and discernment, not just pandering to their fears.

We want to build a church that can handle nuance.
A church that can celebrate what’s good without feeling threatened by what’s messy.
A church that knows how to chew the meat and spit out the bones.

Because life is messy. People are messy. And thankfully, grace is bigger.

So… Can We Sing That?

Short answer?
Yes – if the lyrics are true, the focus is Jesus, and the Spirit is stirring something genuine.

That’s not laziness. That’s trust.
That’s faith in a God who works through imperfect vessels (newsflash: that's all of us) to bring about his perfect purposes.

It’s also a reminder that worship is not passive. It’s active.
Every time we sing, we bring our own heart to the words. We breathe life into them – or we don’t.

The meaning of a song on a Sunday morning isn’t determined by a songwriter’s past or a church’s brand.
It’s determined by the worshipper’s heart, and by the Spirit’s presence among us.

And when that’s happening – when the room is filled with hearts truly seeking after God – I promise you: no theological controversy in the background can cancel what God is doing in the foreground.