What Christian Music Awards Can't Measure
An award show measures craft and production; it doesn't measure whether a song brings you closer to Christ.
On Sunday someone puts together the worship setlist with Christian music awards in hand. It's not a sin: it's a habit. And that habit can leave us singing a lot and understanding little.
When awards season comes around, everyone talks about the same names. I want to talk about something else: what no jury can measure, even with a good ear and the best intentions.
A trophy rewards craft, not fruit
A jury listens to songwriting, mixing, pitch, production. They evaluate real things and they do it with judgment. That's not vanity: work well done honors God, and music is no exception.
«The award show measures the display window; life measures the foundation.»
"Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men" (Colossians 3:23, ESV). That verse isn't against awards. It's against working for people and calling it worship.
The problem comes later, when we confuse recognition with approval. A trophy says what a group of people listened to for a year. It doesn't say what God is doing in a church that sings those same songs on any given Tuesday.
An award measures craft; it doesn't measure whether someone knelt down. Between an award-winning album and a song your congregation sings with tears, there can be a huge distance. The award show measures the display window; life measures the foundation.
Three filters before you hit play
Not everything that sounds pretty nourishes. You can listen with discernment without becoming a bitter critic. Three simple questions help you more than any review.
First, what it says about God. Is what it claims about him, about sin, and about grace true? A melody can be flawless and its lyrics a crooked mirror.
Second, what it does in you. Does it lead you to admire Christ or to admire the artist? Does it leave you moved for ten minutes and unwilling to forgive anyone?
Third, what it costs you. Singing is easy; living the lyrics, not so much. If the song talks about surrender and you're still negotiating with God, it still hasn't reached the right place.
Paul wrote something that applies directly to your headphones: "I will sing praise with my spirit, but I will sing with my mind also" (1 Corinthians 14:15, ESV).
What can be measured
There are songs that outlive their own year. Nobody nominated them and they're still being sung in services a decade later. That's another kind of evaluation: that of the people of God who sing them, understand them, and live them.
Be careful about buying by the display window. Listen to the whole album, read the lyrics without music, and then decide. The label and the cover don't sustain a devotional life; the truth does.
And don't get confused: excellence doesn't fight with humility. A musician who studies, practices, and takes care of their craft is serving. What no award can give you is what only grace gives.
Ask yourself what song brought you closer to Christ this year, with or without an award. Sing it again, but with the lyrics in front of you. If it led you to obey something you'd been putting off, that's the best sign it was worth it.
