If you attend or watch almost any music gig/event/concert/festival across the world, you will see fans “worshipping” their pop idols playing musical instruments and performing on stage. The illustrations above and their associated headlines visibly illustrate a close connection between religious language (worship, idols and altars), contemporary music and place (where these events happen).

Traditional styles of worship in Christian churches have been transformed across the world since the 1970s. In part this has been a deliberate effort to try to make services more attractive to younger people (or “audiences”), and in part because many argue that traditional psalms and hymns are elitist and too difficult for congregations to sing. However, there is little doubt that it is also because many people who have grown up in this period simply wish to worship in the style of music with which they are most familiar in their everyday lives. Yet, as indicated throughout the Christian New Testament, especially in John’s Gospel (8:23, 15:19, 17:16, 18:36) and Letters (1 John 2: 15-17), followers of Jesus are encouraged not to love the world or anything in it (1 John 2:15); Paul likewise encourages us in his Letter to the Romans (12: 2) not to “conform any longer to the pattern of this world”. I also often wonder why, if traditional forms of sung worship are so difficult to perform, people readily learnt them in the past. Might there be something in the idea that the effort of learning something challenging and glorifying God through so doing can be a fulfilling reward in itself?

This post seeks to unravel these apparent tensions, and to explore the extent to which contemporary practices and understandings of Christian worship run the risk of becoming more about worshipping the musicians than it does about worshipping God. This finds its expression particularly in a fundamental change in the “place” where musicians perform within the built fabric of churches. It focuses particularly on experiences within the Anglican tradition, with its rich heritage of choral music, but is also relevant much more widely. The post is organised around reflections on five main themes: observations on diversity and unity; reflections on worship as music or life; on the place of worship; on imagery and fabric; and on ways forward for the future.

Diversity and Unity

I have been fortunate to visit and worship in many Christian churches from different denominations (especially Anglican, Catholic, Baptist, Orthodox and Free). Examples of these very different places are illustrated below.

However, I have also been privileged to visit and be a guest in Muslim Mosques, Hindu Temples, Sikh Gurdwaras, Buddhist Temples, and Chinese (Buddhist, Taoist and Confucian) temples, all places of worship from different religious traditions.

These experiences over the last 70 years have all built into my understanding of worship and the places where it is practised. Amongst the many challenges that these contrasting practices present is that whenever I see Muslims kneeling down in prayer I always wonder why it is that in so many Anglican churches today few people kneel to pray. Instead we sit on comfortable chairs on carpeted floors, in marked contrast to kneeling on the harsh floors we did in the not-so-distant past.

One of the great strengths of contemporary Christianity is its rich diversity not only between denominations, but also within denominations, and even between different forms of worship at the same church. Historically, such divisions have been the source of immense conflict, as in the violent suppression of heresies exemplified by the elimination of the Cathars through the Albigensian crusade of the early 13th century and the subsequent medieval inquisition of the 14th century, as well as more widely during the Reformation and rise of Protestantism in the 16th century.

Many people choose to focus on the differences between Christian denominations. I prefer to focus instead on what we share in common rather than that which divides us. After all, Jesus’ prayer recalled in John’s Gospel (17: 20-1) was “for those who will believe in me through their [his disciples’] message, that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you”. Likewise, Paul in his Letter to the Philippians (2: 2) emphasised unity among believers when be beseeched them to make his “joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and purpose”. Indeed, in my own life, even though I have considered myself to be an Anglican since childhood, I have often felt more spiritually uplifted and closer to God in churches of other denominations as during a Mass in Manila Cathedral in the Philippines, praying in a small Orthodox church in Ohrid (North Macedonia), listening to vespers in the Basilica Sainte-Marie-Madeleine in Vézelay (France), or at a wedding in a small Catholic church in northern Italy, than I have in most Anglican places of worship. To be sure, there are exceptions, as in an early morning Holy Communion in Durham Cathedral, but this paradox increasingly worries me, and in part lies behind the reflections that follow.

On Christian worship: as music or as part of a holistic life?

Conceptual reflection

A distinction is often made in contemporary Christian practice between those who primarily consider “worship” to be sung worship (anywhere, but often communally in a church building), and those who instead see “worship” as being the totality of how they strive to live their entire lives before God (both within and beyond the church building). For the latter, in a formal church setting, the prayers, readings and preaching all form an integral part of worship alongside the music and singing. This division is distinct from, but often conflated with the wider division between what is seen as being “traditional” (with rituals, symbolism and a liturgy) and contemporary, largely non-liturgical and less formal, worship. Many more traditional forms of worship, for example, are actually completely compatible with a view of communal worship as being inclusive of many different elements (a whole life view), but they do usually maintain some liturgical structure to them.

Interestingly, the New Testament says rather little about what worship actually is, and how it should be practised. As John Piper has commented, “almost every worship tradition we have is culturally shaped rather than biblically commanded”. My own view is that worship is not just sung worship but includes all that we do. This is well reflected in Paul’s Letter to the Romans (12: 1) where he wrote “offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God – this is your spiritual act of worship”, and in his 1st Letter to the Corinthians (10:31) “whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God”. To be sure, singing and playing music are an important part of this, as Paul also emphasised in his Letter to the Ephesians (5:19): “Speak to one another with psalms, hymns and spiritual songs. Sing and make music in your heart to the Lord”. However, worship is also very much more than just music and songs. John, in his gospel (4:23) thus observes that “a time is coming and has now come when true worshippers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for they are the kind of worshippers the Father seeks. God is spirit, and his worshippers must worship in spirit and truth”.

In practice

The above reflections have very practical implications. Some Anglican churches, for example distinguish between Service Leaders and Worship Leaders. This can give rise to tensions, especially when a Service Leader who believes in a whole-life definition of worship refers to the “musicians” or “music group” rather than calling them the “worship group” (as they often like to call themselves). Likewise, Worship Leaders who see their remit as being much wider than just playing the music can (possibly) inadvertently take over much of the role of a Service Leader. The resolution of such potential tensions should be relatively simple through clear acknowledgement of the different roles (if indeed they are different), and prayerfully involving the music lead, service lead and preacher together in shaping the content and style of each service. Unfortunately, for whatever reasons, this does not always happen.

One of the defining characteristics of the Anglican Church is that it has always been based on an agreed, but quite flexible, liturgy to provide a clear structure to its services and a set of agreed beliefs that are reaffirmed collectively within a service. This was enshrined in the Book of Common Prayer dating back to 1549, but which was subsequently revised and is now more familiar in its 1662 version. As the Church of England states, “A permanent feature of the Church of England’s worship and a key source for its doctrine, the Book of Common Prayer is loved for the beauty of its language and its services are widely used”. More recently, in an attempt to modernise the language and make it more accessible, especially for younger people, in the late 20th century, the Alternative Service Book (ASB) was introduced in 1980, and subsequently the General Synod of the Church of England launched Common Worship in 2000 as a series of authorised liturgical books. This liturgy provides a tried and tested framework for worship.

Liturgies, such as those in Common Worship and the Book of Common Prayer provide an agreed set of beliefs and a structure that a community of worshippers strive to adhere to. Without a liturgy, there is a danger that anything becomes possible, or even acceptable, and importantly this can again lead to significant tensions; what one person might pray as an intended communal intercession, could cause real offence to another, and thus discord within a congregation. In contrast to the Anglican tradition, there are numerous non- or less-liturgical Christian denominations, such as many Baptist, Charismatic, Pentecostal and Free churches, which focus primarily on “sung worship” and preaching. I recall being disconcerted, but also fascinated, by the lack of any prayers or liturgy in a long Christian service I attended a decade or so ago in South Africa, which consisted only of 30-40 minutes of singing (worship), a rather tedious 45 minutes sermon (more of a harangue) and 10-15 minutes of notices. The congregation seemed to love it, and it is a practice that is now becoming increasingly popular in some Anglican churches in the UK. In such contexts, it makes perfect sense for there to be only a “Worship Leader” for the singing and a Preacher for the sermon.

However, in the Anglican tradition, where the liturgy provides a structure that has evolved and withstood the ebbs and flows of 500 years of history there would definitely still appear to be a need for someone to lead the congregation through the prayers and structure of the service, as well as a preacher and someone to coordinate the music for the songs/hymns (see also comment above about the long tradition of Anglican choral music no longer being seen as worthy of inclusion, because of its difficulty for contemporary audiences to comprehend or sing).

On the place of worship

Churches are the places where communal Christian worship usually takes place. They have evolved in design and function considerably over the last two millennia, and vary somewhat in layout between the main denominations. In origin, much western European church architecture was based on the Roman basilica, and by the Middle Ages had become typified in the familiar cruciform shape shown in the left image above. Typical modern, communal and multifunctional churches often take a form similar to that in the image at the right, with the focus of attention on the stage in the lower left corner.

The “choir” (or music group and singers)

Much has been written about church architecture and design, and I want here to draw out only one aspect of the contrast between these two floor plans that seems highly pertinent to the above reflections on the place of worship and music.

In more modern designs of churches and contemporary practice, the musicians and singers are instead often located on the “stage” and become the centre of attention. Indeed, in many churches there remains little symbolism left to remind worshippers that they are indeed in a Christian church. Often the cross has been removed, or is somewhere on the side, not in the direct line of vision of most of the congregation. In churches where a table has replaced an altar, because of the belief that Jesus’ death has overcome the prior need for a sacrificial altar, there is nowhere left even to place a cross.

The very real danger of this reshaping is that the singers and musicians become more than just the focus of attention. They are transformed into the idols who are worshipped on the stage, just as are the singers and musicians illustrated in the images at the beginning of this post. No longer are they there, largely hidden, to provide support for the congregation to sing, as with traditional choirs and hidden organs, but instead they themselves become the centre of worship. They are frequently clapped and applauded. Most would be horrified to think that they could be seen in this way, but then, why are they not hidden away at the side? Why do they have to be elevated on a stage, replacing the traditional symbols of Christian faith? Why are expensive sound systems, lighting, and equipment provided for them?

Another, equally controversial, aspect of the frontal positioning of singers as against a peripheral choir concerns their clothing, a dimension of “performance” that is also touched upon by the authors of the above image when they refer to “stage presence”. Traditionally, members of a choir, already partially hidden outside the direct line of sight to an altar/high table, were also made uniform by wearing identical cassocks (see choirboy above), often scarcely differentiating between how men and women looked. In contrast, singers today have a sometimes difficult choice to make as to what they wear. Do the men want to reveal their ripped bodies by wearing tight t-shirts; do the women want to wear short skirts and cropped tops? This is not necessarily to advocate a return to cassocks, but it is to encourage awareness of such complex issues associated with developing a stage presence and being “on stage”. Clergy and musicians alike need to think carefully about how their physical bodies and appearance are perceived by members of a congregation, and whether this influences their worship?

Imagery and fabric: ancient and modern

The Protestant Reformation was both spiritual and physically practical. From the 16th century onwards many monasteries and abbeys were destroyed, painted church interiors were torn down or whitewashed over, and much prior Christian statuary was likewise removed. Debates over iconoclasm (the destruction of icons and other images) go back at least to the Byzantine Iconoclasm of the 8th and 9th centuries, and views as to whether icons, statues and paintings were objects to be worshipped in themselves, or were merely aids to worship that could assist people unable to read the scriptures to gain a better understanding of Christian beliefs, have certainly changed subsequently over time. In the mid-16th century, for example, while Luther saw value in some types of Christian art, Calvinists (and subsequently the Reformed Church) strongly encouraged the destruction of such imagery, considering it to be idolatrous. In 16th century England, the infamous Putting Away of Books Act (1549) was a significant step on the path to “purifying” churches of their artistic heritage, which culminated a century later in the much more dramatic Puritan Parliamentarian destruction of church fabric in their efforts to overcome superstition and idolatry.

Against this background there is a strange paradox in much contemporary Anglican practice, that is now in large part mediated by the use of digital tech. Hymn/song books and bibles have been “put away” to be replaced by words and illustration on large screens. Likewise, instead of cherishing artwork on walls, digital images are projected in vibrant colours onto large screens that frequently dominate the visual experience of worshippers, especially in small local parish churches. The whitewashed walls are, in a sense, being replaced by a new idolatry, a new set of contemporary imagery and persuasion in digital Anglicanism. What if illustrative materials, such as the glorious paintings from hundreds of years ago still remaining in many Catholic churches in Europe, were not actually idolatrous but instead inspirational, designed to bring worshippers to a closer understanding of God?

Moreover, in many Anglican churches today the quality of the slide decks used to project words and images is often very poor, and suggests that little care and effort has been spent on their production. Likewise, those controlling the transitions between slides frequently make mistakes, either advancing the slides too early or forgetting to move them on in the appropriate order, which confuses and distracts worshippers. Neither of these is particularly edifying, and both seem to suggest little interest in crafting worship that is indeed to the glory of God.

Linking this to the above discussion of worship and service leadership, advocates of moving towards a largely digital “presentation” of a service also often serve to undermine the role of a service leader. “Control” is usually passed to a “tech savvy” person, often a young person, who merely clicks through the slides as they think appropriate (the young are often erroneously thought to be more knowledgeable about digital tech just because they are young!). They are in effect leading the service. Increasingly, there seems to be no role for anyone actually to lead the services, especially when they consist just of worship songs, a sermon and notices. For some, this might well be seen as a good thing; those who enjoy and are inspired by the diversity of forms of worship and reflection within the structure of a liturgy may well have other views.

The music itself: quality or quantity?

A final tension concerning the place of worship is evident in the emergence of a genre of music specifically called “Worship Songs”, much of it emanating from the USA – as if all Christian singing was somehow not necessarily a part of worship. Praise Charts, for example, lists the “Top 100 Worship Songs of All Time“, with the following introduction “Tried and true. Call them nostalgic, old, or classic, these songs have stood the test of time at PraiseCharts. Take a look through some of the most memorable praise & worship songs of all time. Many of these songs have piano/vocal, choir sheet, and multitrack arrangement”. The first, rather obvious, thing to note about these 100 is that they are clearly not the greatest Christian songs/hymns/music of all time, with most of them having been written only since the late 20th century. Many of them are also written by quite a small number of prominent song writers, such as Phil Wickham (USA) and Chris Tomlin (USA), and issued by collectives and organisations such as Bethel Music (USA) and Hillsong Worship (Australian). Of course people from other parts of the world do contribute to this genre of music, but it is interesting to note how much of it is dominated by the wider US individualistic culture that stands in marked contrast to the more communal European cultural traditions that have found their expression in distinct other musical practices since the foundations of Christianity. Is this nothing but another form of the US imperialism that dominated the world in the second half of the 20th century and is now teetering on collapse?

The propagation of this music, and once more the notion that music is the main form of worship, also owes much to software and licensing companies such as CCLI (Christian Copyright Licensing International; again founded in the USA) with its SongSelect platform calling itself “the definitive source of worship song resources”. Significantly, almost all the material available through this platform is also presented in USAn English rather than English English, so licensed Christian churches across the world who simply copy the music and words onto their slide decks are not so subtly again promoting a USAn view of the world. Is it surprising that young Christians in the UK are confused about “correct” spelling and grammar? An extreme development of this is when singers in the UK, often unconsciously, adopt a specific USAn accent when they perform in church! Moreover, there are increasing calls for wider recognition of the commercial pressures underlying the Christian music industry (BaptistStandard, 2021; Foust, 2023), with the crisis at CCM also being seen by some as just the tip of an iceberg of corruption revealing the deep underbelly of this genre (ChurchLeaders, 2025; Hailes, 2025; Hesse, 2025).

For many born in the last 20 to 40 years, these songs are literally “wonder-ful”, providing them with words and meaning that enable them to “worship” God in their fullest understanding thereof. However, others find them overly simplistic, undemanding, and even trite. Interestingly, for example a search on SongSelect for “la-la” generates 10,956 results (on 23rd March 2026). In contrast, a search for “Trinity” had only 1,383 results! For many this represents a dumbing down of worship, far removed from the rigour and effort of previous generations of worshippers who found reward and satisfaction in mastering more complex hymn tunes and psalmody to the glory of God.

Again, one obvious solution is to encourage Anglican church leaders to engage with a broader diversity of musical traditions in their service music and singing, not least so that these empower worshippers from culturally diverse backgrounds to participate in formats with which they are already familiar and enjoy. It also provides an opportunity for worshippers to be enriched by experiencing traditions of praise and worship with which they are not familiar. However, increasing diversity is all too often interpreted by “Worship Leaders” as meaning simply learning new songs in the same genre. Instead, combining contemporary music, for example, with songs from diverse African or Asian traditions (see WeAfrique’s 30 Best African Praise Songs), European hymns (both ancient and modern) with wonderful lasting lyrics and music, and even revitalising the chanting of psalms can enrich all of our experiences of worship. Some of my most spiritually inspiring experiences remain those enjoyed while listening to Anglican Choral Evensong or Catholic Vespers. Such suggestions nevertheless often meet resistance from “Worship Leaders” who claim that their groups of musicians and singers familiar with pianos, guitars and drums are unable or unwilling to learn the necessary new skills. In contrast, many of an older generation long for the music of their childhood; I recall one elderly friend who persisted in calling drums, “the devil’s instrument” (see also Randall Stephens, 2018).

Richness in diversity, humility and tolerance

Worship lies at the heart of Christian practice, and the rich diversity of such practices within the Anglican Communion has much to commend it. However, if Christianity is to continue to flourish it is important also to cherish and learn from the wealth and depth of communal worship that has been practised across the last two millennia. Music and singing have long been an important element of worship, but as the above examples have sought to illustrate it is far from the only form of worship. Moreover, an over-emphasis on them, especially when they are seen as being the only true form of worship, can be deeply problematic, not least since they detract from the importance of prayer and reflection on the word of God which are also integral aspects of communal worship. This tendency is all the more dangerous when the place of worship is shaped around a stage on which musicians and lead singers perform, and in so doing risk becoming the focus of worship themselves.

Diversity of forms of worship reflect wider human diversity. We all have differing perspectives, and it is important to cherish the gifts of humility and tolerance in discussions of religion and worship. While there are many paths to faith, Christianity nevertheless requires belief in certain key principles, often formalised into Creeds. Different Christian denominations, and varying practices within specific denominations, represent efforts to combine these tensions between individualism and communalism. The reflections above merely seek to tease out some of the challenges associated with evolving ideas and practices relating to worship in the 21st century. In particular, the Anglican Communion has long believed in the importance of a liturgy that reflects multiple dimension of worship, and if this is to be maintained in churches that lay claim to this inheritance then it is helpful to have someone leading the overall flow of a communal church service, that includes prayers and a sermon as integral elements alongside the music and singing. In such circumstances, it is at best confusing to refer to the person leading the music as the “Worship Leader”, unless, of course, it is the intention to combine the roles of music lead and service lead. At worst, the reshaping of the “place” of worship in the layout of churches, is in danger of creating new idols who may unintentionally become misplaced objects of worship. In many churches, especially smaller ones, it makes sense for the ordained minister to preach and lead services, supported by someone else who co-ordinates the music. In larger churches, with several clergy and leaders, sharing these roles more widely to include a separate service lead can enable the preacher to focus on their sermons and the music lead to concentrate on delivering high quality musical support to congregational singing. Moreover, where a service leader is identified as a separate role, it makes no sense at all to pass that role on to someone else who simply clicks through a set of slides.