This month marks a year since I visited South Korea for the Fourth Lausanne Congress for World Evangelization, the largest gathering of global evangelicals in history—more than 5,000 believers from 200 nations.
I continue to reflect on the significance of that event, the mix of potential and peril facing the global church, and the sweet power of those times of worship. To sing God’s praises in multiple languages, side by side with brothers and sisters from every continent, was unforgettable.
Shared Soundtrack
During the worship times, I was encouraged by the unity and passion on display. Across the venue, believers from different countries and traditions lifted their hearts and hands as one. Even when English speakers stumbled along in Chinese or Spanish or Korean, there was joy and freedom in praising together.
What surprised me most was how many of the worship songs were familiar—not only the great hymns of the past (“How Great Thou Art,” “It Is Well”) or modern classics like “In Christ Alone” but also newer songs such as Elevation’s “Praise” or Chris Tomlin’s “Holy Forever.” These were already familiar among people across languages and continents.
Part of the explanation lies in the makeup of the Lausanne crowd. Among evangelicals in the Global South, even those who rightly resist the prosperity gospel, most are touched in some way by the charismatic renewal of the past century. Gather evangelicals from around the world, and expressive, contemporary worship is more the norm than the exception.
There was much to celebrate in this. And yet I left with a lingering concern.
Losing Local Voices?
The globalization of worship music has largely meant the Westernization of worship. Churches in the United States, the United Kingdom, or Australia compose and record songs, which are then translated and sung around the world. This dynamic follows globalization patterns in other areas, and thus is easily explainable.
But what happens if most of the songs sung in a Romanian or Brazilian or Ghanaian congregation are translations of Western works? Might something beautiful be lost?
As someone shaped by the hymnody of Romania, I feel this burden. During Communist oppression, believers like Nicolae Moldoveanu and Traian Dorz endured imprisonment and torture. Out of those crucibles came hundreds of songs that carried Romanian Christians through their darkest days. One Moldoveanu hymn has been translated into English (appearing in The Sing! Hymnal, compiled by Keith and Kristyn Getty), but the vast treasury of their work remains unknown outside Romania.
When I listen to Romanian worship playlists, I’m always glad to hear the Romanian versions of American songs (and a little curious to see how certain words and phrases get translated!). But I’m especially encouraged when I can sing along with songs composed by Romanians. Those lyrics and melodies, many born from suffering, express a distinctly Romanian reliance on God.
I can’t help but wonder if a new generation of Romanians will continue to compose in that vein, or whether the gravitational pull of globalized worship will lead local voices to go quiet, to focus nearly all their efforts on translating songs from the West rather than offering a distinctive contribution.
Global Gift Exchange
Romania is just one case. The same question could be asked of believers in Greece, Brazil, Kenya, or South Korea. Each context carries riches we in the West might benefit from. Occasionally, a song makes its way into global circulation (“Way Maker” from Nigeria is a rare example). But most of the traffic flows in one direction—from the West outward, and increasingly from just a small number of megachurches and worship collectives.
Imagine what would happen if the flow reversed, or at least became two-way. English-speaking churches could sing translated hymns and praise choruses from Africa or Asia. American believers could worship with the words that sustained persecuted Christians in Eastern Europe. When we expand our repertoire this way, we don’t just enrich our services; we display to our congregations that we belong to a people spanning generations and geography.
I’ve written before about the importance of a church developing a “canon” of songs—returning to the same melodies again and again so that repetition compounds their formative power. A canon rooted in both old and new songs, in both Western and global voices, reminds us we’re not alone. We sing with saints across centuries and across continents.
When we belt out Luther’s “A Mighty Fortress,” or return to an ancient hymn like “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel,” we sense our connection to the church through the ages. But why not go further? When we add contemporary songs from believers in other lands, and when we tell their stories, we can better sense our connection to the church that transcends our nation. We show in song what we confess in the Nicene Creed: “We believe in one, holy, catholic, and apostolic church.”
Toward a Renaissance of Global Worship
The best way to display the church’s global nature isn’t by flattening differences into one Western soundtrack but by highlighting the distinct gifts of each culture. We need each other. We can inspire each other. We can share our songs of joy and sorrow, giving each other new words and melodies to celebrate the old, old story.
Of course, this global vision is only possible if Christians in every nation keep writing. We need believers around the world to compose songs out of their histories and experiences walking with Jesus, and we need churches in the West to receive those songs, translate them, and sing them. And once an English version is created, it can quickly spread to other languages as well—and suddenly a Korean chorus or Portuguese hymn can resound in Telugu or Hungarian.
Instead of English being the starting point for most of the trains carrying songs into the world, what if it were more like Grand Central Station, with trains arriving from all over the world, with distinctive contributions from multiple languages and contexts translated into English before going back out into the world in new translations?
How edifying it would be for us in churches around the world to sing each other’s songs! What I pray for is a renaissance of global worship, where distinctive local voices rise up and offer songs old and new, so the worldwide chorus is truly a reflection of all tribes and tongues. Only then will our unity in Christ be heard most clearly—many languages, many cultures, one Savior, one song.
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