When considering the nature of Christian popular music over the last decade, one might ask: Is it time for CCM (Contemporary Christian Music) and CWM (Christian Worship Music) to be joined by a new acronym for the genre: TWP, or Trump Worship Music?
The majority of CCM is and remains tacitly apolitical, though the industry’s refusal to call out its extremist elements for fear of ruffling the feathers of its base reminds us of similar acts of inaction and capitulation from within the country music establishment. Such is the nature of life for conservatives in the age of Trump, where CCM artists, like Republican politicians, are often faced with the choice to either toe the “party” line or get out and join the resistance movement.
As journalists Elizabeth Dias and Ruth Graham observe of Trump-loving Christians, their “right-wing political activity itself is becoming a holy act.” Media misinformation, conspiracy theories, violent rhetoric, and abuse of “others” are as likely to come from this faction as from any secular far-right group. Conventional images of Jesus have been transformed in the process, the loving carer of the needy replaced with an angry uber-masculine savior.
Indeed, Toxic Jesus worship has become indistinguishable from the worship of Trump, who is envisioned in this subculture as King David or King Cyrus, a flawed messenger who nevertheless has been designated by God to do His bidding. With over 80 percent of white Evangelicals supporting Trump, the Christian right has become a formidable voting block for his brand of authoritarian politics.
The Old Contemporary Christian Music Wave Meets the New Wave
Those from past generations populate the new generation of far-right Contemporary Christian Music artists, an indication that Trumpism does not deviate too far from the Moral Majority of old when it comes to evangelical political concerns. Christian rock musician Larry Norman bemoaned how it is “against the law to pray in school” in his 1972 song, “The Great American Novel” and contemporary Christian singers still beat that drum of protest. Many of Trump’s biggest and earliest supporters are artists who made their name during the heyday of Contemporary Christian Music in the late 1980s and ‘90s. Foremost among them is Michael Tate.
Tate has been the lead vocalist for Newsboys since 2009 but rose to prominence as a member of DC Talk, the Grammy award-winning pop/rap/grunge act formed on the campus of Jerry Falwell’s Liberty University in 1987. Today, the singer’s off-stage activities include periodic public appearances on behalf of Trump, whether as a guest participating in photo ops at the White House or on right-wing programs like The Candace Owens Show.
In 2019, when Christianity Today published an op-ed criticizing the president as unfit for office during his first impeachment hearing, Tate joined Jerry Falwell, Jr., Focus on the Family’s James Dobson, and Bethel Music’s Brian and Jenn Johnson in signing a letter opposing that critique. In January 2020, he participated in the “Evangelicals for Trump” rally at the King Jesus International Ministry in Miami, Florida. He joined 7,000 attendees in transforming the megachurch into a MAGA church dedicated to worshiping their political idol.
No one should be surprised by the industry’s veteran acts lining up behind Trump as the primary themes of their music align with those of this divisive candidate. Grievance, a persecution complex, and an outsider rebel image are as integral to DC Talk’s most popular song, “Jesus Freak” (1995), as to the president who entered the White House 21 years later.
Turning the once derogatory term for the 1960s Jesus People into a badge of honor, the band embraced the “freak” identity in the same way as “trash” and “deplorable” are by today’s Trumpers: to highlight their feelings of persecution. “I don’t care if they label me a Jesus freak / There ain’t no disguising the truth,” the band sings, the “us versus them” dichotomy established by the contrast of pronouns. This presumption of hostility from outside forces against the in-group is found in any far-right playbook, the “they” sufficiently vague to invite cumulative interpretations of potential oppressors.
The notion that American Christian kids are being victimized is illustrated graphically in the song’s official video, which features the three band members singing/rapping from inside a prison cell, one holding a wooden cross. Interspersed are images of burning crosses and burning books; implicit analogies made explicit as the lyrics paint a picture of Jesus freaks as tyrannized martyrs to their cause.
Critic Chris Williams, recalling the appeals of this song in his childhood, recognizes today how its rebel chic can be turned into divisive grievance politics. “I can see its legacy in the vitriol we see in evangelicals who rail against perceived government oppression,” he states, the word “evangelicals” interchangeable with “Trumpers”.
Central to the warrior identity cultivated on the far right are idealizations of masculinity and male gender roles. The “Italian stallion” of Contemporary Christian Music, singer-rapper Carman, represents these with exaggerated aplomb. From his glory years in the late 1980s to his death in 2021, Carman fought the righteous fight against Satan on behalf of the young generation. Satanic in his vision were gay people, whom he characterized in “The Light of Jesus to the World” (1984) with the line, “The homosexual in San Francisco trapped in vile bondage.” He would no doubt have a thing or two to say about transgender kids if he were around today.
As Associate Professor of American Religious History Leah Payne points out, Carman’s campaigns against “drugs, drink (and driving), gangs, teen pregnancy, television violence, homosexuality, and AIDS” were all presented as battles to be won by put upon Christians. Carman was always fighting some liberal enemy in his songs, so it is not surprising that he would find a kindred spirit when Trump thrust himself onto the political scene in 2015.
Both Carman and Trump camp caricatures of alpha males and have been adept at marketing melodrama, martyrdom, and showmanship into prestige, profit, and power. Carman was among the first Contemporary Christian Music artists to jump on the Trump bandwagon. His song “Trump Blues” (2017) includes lines taunting the opposition: “The left’s gone crazy, the media’s stumped / Afraid some day they have to say President Trump.”
As much as old-school Contemporary Christian Music artists have been willing and able to suspend prior concerns about “character” or “values” in endorsing Trump, a new generation unencumbered by the prerequisites of old has not had to make the same gymnastic moves in justifying their support for the philandering felon.
Politics to the new wave of Contemporary Christian Music right-wingers is about power and profit rather than the kind of moral righteousness that once consumed their parents and grandparents during the Bill Clinton presidency. Perhaps surprising, though, is that female artists so dominate recent pro-Trump CCM. Immersed within the manosphere of the far right, singers Lauren Daigle, Kim Walker-Smith, Kari Jobe, Natasha Owens, and Melody Noel (Altavilla) provide testimony to the curious appeal its “Handmaid’s Tale” vision has for millions of conservative women in America.
Walker-Smith, Jobe, and Altavilla rose to the forefront of CCM by singing at megachurches, the industry’s most common avenue to success today. Playing directly to far-right listeners and openly associating with Trump, these singers have made declarations of allegiance some of their peers have been reluctant to make.
Jobe, a singer and associate pastor for Gateway Church, has taken advantage of photo ops with the president, while Walker-Smith, singer and pastor for Bethel Church, ingratiated herself with the base by contributing the song “Worth the Fight” (2020) to The Trump I Know (2020), a film defending the president as an advocate for women!
Altavilla is a songwriter and worship leader at Influence Church who has risen through the ranks by offering songs and organizing prayer gatherings for the January 6th “political prisoners”. She sees her pro-Trump activism as her Christian duty and herself as part of an army of Christian soldiers.
While many contemporary singers express their support for Trump while simultaneously going about their musical business, singing conventional worship songs, Owens erases any distinction between her politics and religion with lyrics that openly conjoin the two. Dias and Graham see her as the tip of a trend wherein “music is now key to movement-building power on the right.” They add, “The anthems of the contemporary evangelical church, many of which were written in just the last few years, are blending with rising political anger, becoming the soundtrack to a new fight.”
Owens puts her fighting talk in her titles, one album called Warrior (2019) and another Stand (2021). Using catchy pop-country rock as her backdrop, she lists her conspiracy theories and enemies of choice in “Trump Won” (2023), a song that went viral on release, topping the iTunes chart with over two million views.
In “The Chosen One” (2024), which airs a talking point even some Evangelicals are embarrassed to utter, she casts Trump as an agent of God’s providence while excusing his long list of “sins” with the line, “He’s only human like you and me.”
Far-right operators Steve Bannon and Mike Lindell liked what they heard, inviting the singer into their circle, while CPAC invited her to perform in 2024. Trump’s ego was so massaged by her odes to him that he invited her to sing on the Mar-A-Lago lawn in 2023. A rising MAGA star, Owens is as divisive a figure as her chosen one, X/Twitter blowing up with responses—good and bad—to her songs. Trumpers love her for “owning the libs”; others, like X poster Michael Ruland, quipped in response to the complementary epithets in “The Chosen One”, “Due to space constraints, they chose to leave out a few words: psychotic, malignant, narcissist, coercive controller and criminal.”
Contemporary Christian Music Dissenters and Defectors
As much as evangelical Christians mostly vote in lockstep for right-wing candidates, a notable dissenting block has come from young CCM artists and their fans. Whether fueled by a creative spirit at odds with church conformity or driven by principles of diversity, equity, and inclusion, the church’s youngest music factions have shown the courage to resist conservatism within the institution.
No constituency has been more under assault from the evangelical far right this century than the LGBTQ+ community; it is therefore not surprising that this forms the center of the contemporary resistance movement. Organizations like Born Again Lesbian Music encourage artists to “come out” fighting and take advantage of streaming services—bypassing traditional Christian radio stations, bookstores, podcasts, and media channels—to reach sympathetic fans and congregants.
Out-of-the-closet, CCM artists like Vicky Beeching, Troy Pearson (of Everyday Sunday), Ray Boltz, and Jennifer Knapp have all enjoyed sustained careers by following this path. Moreover, the commercial success of Flamy Grant and Semler, who have topped the iTunes chart in the “Christian music” category, shows a vast audience out there craving an alternative CCM culture.
Although not reaching the sales figures of their inspiration, Amy Grant and Flamy Grant (aka, Matthew Blake) have managed to capture the hearts of an audience the likes of which Sean Feucht wished did not exist. The firebrand preacher’s response on Twitter/X to seeing the drag imagery and hearing the out-and-proud assertions in Flamy’s videos for “What Did You Drag Me Into?” (2022) and “Boys Will Be Girls” (2023) was to call the singer-performance artist “demonic,” “sick,” and “twisted,” their work “perverting the minds of children.”
Such free publicity has only bolstered their career; Bible Belt Baby (2022) remains a top-selling Contemporary Christian Music album in recent years. Grant is no interloper, either, growing up an avid reader of CCM Magazine and a congregant of the conservative Plymouth Brethren Protestant Church. Following a precedent set by Lil Nas X when he came under fire from far-right media, Grant refuses to be cowed by the haters or exit the scene under pressure, proudly parading their “shame-slaying” queer self.
Sexual identity is not the only war zone for CCM in the age of Trump. Racism has also remained on the frontlines of recurring political battles. As the recent Black Lives Matter uprising exposed institutional racism in the nation’s police force, white Evangelicals rarely came down on the side of justice. Instead, they withdrew into “Blue Lives Matter” or “All Lives Matter” deflections, leaving social justice-driven CCM artists in a quandary: should they adopt the common vow of silence or risk career suicide by speaking up against discrimination?
Some veteran stars in the field, like Kevin Max (of DC Talk), David Bazan (of Pedro the Lion), and Lecrae, refused to stay silent; Max was so disturbed by the reactionary views coming from the church that he declared himself an “exvangelical”, forever tied to the faith but not to the institution’s political alignments. Lecrae, one of the few black artists within the industry, had been a successful hip-hop performer and producer since 2004.
However, the rise of Trumpism proved a tipping point for the rapper, particularly when so many in his audience sided with the far right over the BLM justice warriors. His tale of how sticking up for the latter cost him fans, friends, mentors, and money is familiar to those CCM artists who have expressed empathy or understanding on matters of racial and/or sexual identity.
The state of CCM today is—like the US nation—one of polarization and political tension, and there is no détente in sight. Just as liberal-minded acts like Flamy Grant and Lecrae will continue to represent new young generations of Evangelicals unwilling to allow their true identities to be suppressed without a fight, so the church is not letting up, either.
Contemporary Christian Music will remain a viable instrument as long as popular music serves the church in disseminating ideological messages, sustaining its cultural relevance, recruiting new converts, and keeping old ones. The nature of what the industry produces will continue to be oriented by the political forces that feed into and out of religious institutions, though not without facing periodic dissent from artists of faith resistant to the status quo.
Works Cited
Daw, Stephen, “Meet Flamy Grant, The Drag Queen Carving Out Her Own Lane in Christian Music”. Billboard. 3 August. 2023.
Dias, Elizabeth and Graham, Ruth. “The Growing Religious Fervor in the American Right: ‘This Is a Jesus Movement’”. New York Times. 22 June 2023.
Hawkinson, Katie. “Cringeworthy single declares Donald Trump is the ‘chosen one’ picked by God”. The Independent. 7 June 2024.
Payne, Leah. God Gave Rock and Roll to You: A History of Contemporary Christian Music. Oxford University Press. February 2024.
Vischer, Phil, “Why I’m Still a Christian with Lecrae”, Holy Post. 29 November 2023.
Williams, Chris. “The CCM Canon: ‘Jesus Freak’ Was An Anthem; Was It Also a Problem?” Patheos. 30 June 2021.