I’ve been part of worship ministries all my life, watching trends come and go. I know that nothing lasts forever—except His Word. That’s why I feel a deep love and concern for the direction worship has quietly taken in many churches over the years. Worship is a sacred space, a time set apart to meet with God, to let His presence renew and transform us. But, bit by bit, over time, it feels as though we’ve been slipping into patterns that make worship feel more like a production than a true encounter.
More and more, our song choices seem shaped by the latest CCM releases, especially those from big-name artists. And it’s not that these songs aren’t meaningful—many of them are! But when we focus so heavily on what’s popular, we risk overlooking songs that have stood the test of time, songs with a depth and richness that can speak deeply to our congregations. There’s something incredibly special about choosing a song, not because it’s new, but because it perfectly fits the moment God has given us.
This need for deeper, more meaningful songs has become so apparent that some churches now hold “retro” services, bringing back older worship songs as if they’re a rare novelty. And while it’s beautiful to revisit those songs, I can’t help but wonder why they’re seen as “retro” in the first place. Worship music rooted in Scripture shouldn’t be something we bring out only occasionally; it should be woven into our regular worship, reminding us of truths that never grow old.
I have deep respect for the incredible work worship ministries have been doing in recent years. The skill with sound, lighting, and media has created worship experiences that truly help people connect with God. But sometimes, I wonder if we’re slowly drifting toward production as the goal. Small, unspoken practices—like the constant 1+5 pad running through every song—have quietly become standard, even though it often collides with other chords, adding unnecessary dissonance. The pad, the click, the tracks—these tools can be helpful, but only if they serve worship rather than overshadow it.
Our dependence on screens for lyrics and on rigid recorded arrangements has also become routine, almost as if we’re on autopilot, rarely free to flow with the Spirit when He moves in unexpected ways. And if the computer crashes, there’s often a wave of panic among musicians and singers, stealing so much of our focus and the joy of simply contemplating God’s beauty. We don’t want technology to take center stage when He is meant to be the beginning, the end, and everything in between.
Streaming has become a significant part of worship, a blessing that allows us to reach those far beyond our walls. But I hope we don’t lose sight of worship’s heart. Worship isn’t something to be optimized for the screen; it’s meant to be real, honest, sometimes even raw, reflecting the genuine hearts of those in the room. If we continue leaning into practices that work best for livestreaming, we risk gradually drifting from the richness and authenticity that worship was always meant to hold.
These shifts didn’t happen all at once; they’ve developed gradually, over the years. But it’s never too late to adjust the sails, to reflect on where we’re heading, and to choose our course with intention. This isn’t about right or wrong; it’s an invitation—a gentle reminder to treasure the depth we already have in worship. Let’s remember the songs that have carried us through every season and choose practices that draw us closer to God’s Word, week by week. Worship is more than any trend or production style; it’s a way to draw near to God, humbly and with open hearts, just as we are.