(A Reflection on What They’re Really Singing About)

by P. Glenn

I’ve read in the news how Christian conservatism and music among youth is once again catching media attention. Just a few days ago, another article noted that Christian-themed music is increasingly showing up in streaming services, especially among younger audiences.

At one time in America - not that long ago - Christian music was doctrinal. The melodies carried it into hearts, but the theologians and clergy cared deeply that the words themselves expressed theology faithfully. Beginning in the late seventies and eighties, that began to change.
(I know, because I was part of that change - pushing away from rigid hymnody toward more modern, expressive styles. And yes, I took heat for it.)

Now, it’s less about theology and more about relevance. Much of today’s Christian music resembles love ballads to oneself, spoken by a deity who “really gets you.”
I’m not criticizing that.
But I don’t see it as a resurgence of Christianity in America. I see it as something deeper:

It’s not revival.
It’s remembrance.

The Soul’s Cry for Relevance

I remember singing in nursing homes years ago. Even among Alzheimer’s patients, something remarkable would happen:
They might forget their names.
Forget their family.
Forget the day.
But when you sang the music of their youth - whether swing, jazz, country, or Christian - they remembered.
They swayed.
They sang.
They returned.

It wasn’t doctrine that remained.
It was music.
Not belief systems.
Not sermons.
But melodies.

Because music is older than belief.
It lives in the symbolic body - not just the brain.
It’s mythic presence, humming beneath the noise.

From Doctrine to Desire

So, where once Christian music was lyrical theology,
Now it has largely become emotional identity.

He knows me.
He sees me.
I matter to Him.

This shift from corporate creed to personal cry mirrors a larger cultural transformation - from institutional belonging to individual relevance.

It’s not just music.
It’s a mirror.
A spiritual mirror held up by a generation quietly saying:

“I don’t know what I believe anymore…
but I still need to feel like I’m not alone.”

And even if it lacks theological depth, it’s reaching for emotional anchoring - which means it’s mythic at heart, even if it doesn’t know it.

Not System - but Symbol

What media often misread as a Christian resurgence may actually be a meaning resurgence. Music becomes the vessel for that cry because:

• It doesn’t argue.

• It bypasses gatekeepers.

• It offers belonging without doctrine.

In a world saturated by pixel-perfect lives and algorithmic anxiety, a lyric like “I am seen” or “I am held” becomes a digital hymn - not necessarily to Jesus, but to the ache.

I’m not mocking what’s being sung. I believe I’m simply recognizing what’s not being said:

These songs aren’t returning to Christianity-as-system.
They’re reaching for Christianity-as-symbol.
For God-as-you-get-me, not God-as-you-govern-me.

That, in its own quiet way, is sacred.

The Soul Is Still Singing

Yes, some say “big money is here.” And maybe that’s true.
Some of it’s real.
Some of it’s revenue.
But meaning and money have always mingled uneasily in the temple.

At its heart, I think this is a cry for relevance.
Not as trend -
But as testimony: “I still want to matter to something Ultimate.”

So when young people sing about being seen and loved -
That’s not a system trying to rise again.
That’s the soul trying not to disappear.

“I recognize this cry… and I’ve walked deeper into it.”