Hip hop was always part of the story

A teacher and hip-hop head in Nova Scotia reports on ministry in a vibrant but misunderstood culture across Canada.

→en français

When I first became a high school teacher, I had to swap my everyday wardrobe for something considered more professional. Business casual became the norm – with a shirt and tie for special occasions. Still, I found subtle ways to stay rooted in the culture that shaped me. I’d slip a hip-hop T-shirt under my sweater or dress shirt – something that reflected the spirit I brought into the classroom.

That spirit was hip hop. The culture I fell in love with during university had elevated me, broadened my world view, and inspired me to be a man of creativity and conviction. Beneath the surface, often obscured by public misunderstanding, lay a culture rich with truth telling, innovation and connection.

While spending 17 years in high school halls, I’ve watched hip hop spark spirited cross-generational conversations between students and teachers. With 50 years of music and expression, it’s clear hip hop doesn’t just speak to young people. It has shaped adults in positions of authority for decades. Indeed, the pastor delivering your Sunday morning sermon might be a hip-hop head.

And yet, despite its staying power and cultural depth, churches across Canada and the U.S. have often kept hip hop at arm’s length. I often wonder what barriers, assumptions or fears might be getting in the way. I lament the opportunities lost when the Church fails to recognize what hip hop has to offer.

I spoke with faith-filled Canadian hip-hop practitioners across the country – producers, DJs, MCs and cultural organizers – and asked them directly, “What do church folks need to know about hip hop?”

Deeper than we think

Before church communities can engage with hip hop, they have to understand what they’re dealing with – and what it’s not.

“First,” says Newselph, an Albertan producer, rapper and reverend (Newselph.com), “hip hop is a culture. You will find both good and bad, beauty and brokenness, saints and sinners. It can encompass all the ways people think, believe and live life.”

It’s a foundational truth that’s often overlooked. Too often hip hop is reduced to headlines or stereotypes – gang violence, materialism, misogyny – without acknowledging the cultural depth behind its music, art or community.

Youngdo Kang, founder of the Toronto hip-hop ministry City Lights (CityLightsFam.ca), offers a broader perspective. “Hip hop is not just Black kids in the ghettos. In Toronto breakers are mostly Asians, graffiti writers are mostly white, MCs are mostly Black, and DJs are a mixture of them all. Hip hop is not just gangsta music with violence, drugs and sex. A lot of it is, but not all of it.

“Hip hop has a culture. It’s not simply a music genre. There are four artistic expressions called elements – breaking (also known as breakdancing), MCing (also known as rapping), DJing and graffiti writing.”

This multidimensional view of hip hop is not commonly embraced in Canadian church communities. More often it’s approached with a missionary mindset – one that positions the culture as “other” and its people as spiritual projects.

“Sometimes,” says Eternia, a two-time Juno-nominated MC in Toronto (Eternia.BandCamp.com), “it feels that the Church’s approach to hip hop is, ‘Oh, [look at] these poor savages that we’re being missionaries to.’ ”

That posture creates distance instead of dialogue. Youngdo has felt it personally. “I know several people, including me, who feel they can’t be themselves in a church service or a fellowship – even down to how they dress – because they feel judged by the negative stereotypes of those in hip hop.”

But judgment works both ways. “Hip hoppers have stereotypes about church folks too,” he adds. “Many of them only know the negative things about Christianity and the Church.”

What’s missing then is mutual understanding. And what’s required is a more thoughtful theology of culture. Grubbernaut, a Calgary-based DJ and City Lights leader (LinkTr.ee/Grubbernaut), sees it this way. “Hip hop, like culture, is an empty vessel, and can express whatever life or death you pour in it. If you have people in your church interested in hip hop, pour Jesus into them and their hip-hop expression will be transformed.”

“I often find that fellowship, discipleship, and maybe even evangelism are done better in hip hop than in the Church.”

The tension runs deeper than music preference or esthetics – it’s about how we see people. “Hip-hop culture is made up of your neighbours,” says Newselph. “People that God loves and for whom Jesus lived, suffered, died and rose again.”

In other words, it’s not “us” reaching “them.” It’s all of us – gifted, flawed and searching for meaning.

“There are things we can learn from the culture,” Youngdo says. “I often find that fellowship, discipleship, and maybe even evangelism are done better in hip hop than in the Church.”

Eternia agrees. “When I got involved in church, after being involved in hip hop, the church was talking the talk of being a family for each other, but they weren’t often living it out in as close-knit ways as I had experienced in hip-hop culture, which to me was very interesting because hip-hop culture is considered ‘secular.’ But I feel they lived as a community, treating people as true brothers and sisters.”

Misconceptions about hip hop can be costly. They prevent church folks from seeing the image of God in the cypher (group of artists such as rappers or breakdancers taking turns), and perhaps even from hearing the voice of God there as well.

A local mission field

When churches approach hip hop as a tool rather than a culture, the ministry suffers. At best, it feels forced. At worst, it becomes a shallow performance that alienates the very people it hopes to reach.

“Hip-hop heads can sniff inauthenticity out a mile away,” says Eternia, one of Canada’s most respected MCs. “And often, when the Church has the idea of evangelizing to a certain group, it doesn’t feel reciprocal. It feels one-way, [like] I’m doing this because you poor people need my help. It won’t work very well with hip-hop heads because if we don’t sense a genuine, authentic relationship, there won’t be much connection.”

This isn’t just about a style of music. It’s about cultural immersion and relationship building. As Youngdo puts it, “You might like hip-hop music, but until you’re in the culture, you only know the tip of the iceberg. This is true especially in terms of how people shape their craft, relate to each other in community, and share their values and goals.”

For many artists working at the intersection of faith and hip hop, ministry happens most naturally in the margins – outside church walls and beyond traditional models of outreach. “My music,” says Newselph, “primarily serves to introduce me to other musically or artistically minded people outside of my local church. There God gives me an opportunity to befriend them and love them as my neighbours. Eventually, I may be able to answer questions like, ‘Who is Jesus?’ or ‘What’s the reason for the hope within you?’ ”

It’s a slow and steady form of evangelism that requires time, trust and empathy. “Evangelism isn’t easy,” says Youngdo, “and you need to be patient in understanding where people are coming from, forming relationships that aren’t just of the baitand- switch kind, but of genuine love and care. You have to build credibility.”

Grubbernaut has lived this transformation firsthand. “Before inviting God into my life, I was very jealous and selfish.

“Hip hop is domestic missions work, it’s in our backyard. But it’s still cross-cultural.”

Every DJ jam I went to was not only a battle against the other DJs, but also my own ego and emotions. Now God works within me to build community, to spark curiosity and engage in conversations. Now I can glorify God with my skills instead of being stressed about them because they are His good work! It is a hundred times more enjoyable than when I was constantly putting my identity in my skills. Now I can empathize with people in similar situations and share my own story of transformation.”

But too often the Church fails to see this kind of ministry as legitimate mission work. One8Tea, an award-winning artist and youth outreach leader in Moncton (One8Tea.com), is used to the surprise. “I shared in one church, I’m 70-30, with 70% of the presentations I do now are in clubs and bars, while 30% are in the Church. And the congregation was shocked! I’m not sure the information about how we minister is getting from the artist to the congregation. So we need church leaders to get that information out there. The pastor at this church said, ‘You’re a missionary, bro.’ We are working hard for our cities. Not sharing what we do sends a message that the Church doesn’t value our ministry.”

For One8Tea the work is about showing up fully, whether the crowd is ten kids in a basement or a packed auditorium. “I’d rather take your little ten-person youth group and put on a bang-out arena-style show for them. Get them all hyped up. Let them know that ministering like this is actually realistic. You don’t know what gifts they have. You don’t know if they’re suppressing things they can actually use for God right now. There’s more than one way to minister in the church building.

“Pour Jesus into your people and if there are some hip-hop heads, their hip-hop expression will be transformed.”

Young people need to see that.”

That’s why Youngdo doesn’t just frame hip hop as a style – it’s a site of real mission work. “Hip hop is domestic missions work, it’s in our backyard. But it’s still cross-cultural. You can’t just ‘use’ hip-hop culture by inviting a cool rapper to your youth group. For some young people hip-hop culture is a significant part of their identity. They will know if you are bringing in a gimmick. If you’re bringing a rapper to up the numbers at youth group, how are you going to keep the kids there after that cool person leaves?”

And there’s another piece churches often overlook – compensation. “Also,” he adds, “please be prepared to give an honorarium to any artists who serve you. Do not assume they should be doing it for free because it’s for the Kingdom. For some it’s part of their livelihood. You help them do their Kingdom work by helping them make a living. Exposure does not pay the bills.”

If the Church wants to partner with hip-hop artists in ministry, it has to move beyond assumptions and toward actual partnership. That means listening. It means learning. And it means valuing the work – spiritually and materially.

Modeling the ministry we say we want

If our church communities want to reach people shaped by hip hop, they might need to stop looking for strategies – and start learning from the culture itself.

“Authenticity is one of the top tenets of hip-hop culture,” says Eternia whose international career has taken her across communities and continents. “The indie rap scene that I came up in during the ’90s and early 2000s was more genuine than most churches I’ve been to. Hip hop took me all across the world. There was always an open door, an available couch and food. It was truly a ticket to a global family. I’m not saying that makes them better than believers, but I think that churches in general could learn a lot from the closeknit community found in the culture.”

That sense of hospitality and mutual care – of showing up, no matter what – is baked into hip hop’s DNA. And it doesn’t require a stage or pulpit. Often it begins with showing up in overlooked places.

One8Tea points to Fresh IE, a pioneering Christian hip-hop artist from Winnipeg (FreshMusic.ca), as a model. “I look at Fresh IE as a big brother to me. One thing I’ll give him absolute credit for is that he didn’t try to break in through the Church. He went to the [Indigenous] reserves. What he did was create a really good product and went into a place with the gospel and hope, sharing it with people who were genuinely hungry, hurting and needed to hear it. He showed up and spoke in a language those young people could understand.”

There’s a lesson there for church leaders who want to use hip hop to reach people. Relationship must come before strategy. And transformation must come from the inside out.

Grubbernaut puts it bluntly. “Release your expectations of what Jesus in hip hop looks like. My ministry is primarily via relationships. Yes, music with messages about Jesus can occasionally be effective. But think about how many spiritual gifts there are. Think about how many genres of writing there are in the Bible. There are so many ways Jesus can be expressed.”

Instead of adjusting church culture from the outside in, he calls for a deeper approach. “Don’t think you are accomplishing something by changing your church culture to include hip hop (working outside in), but pour Jesus into your people and if there are some hip-hop heads, their hip-hop expression will be transformed. Embrace them, encourage them and provide opportunities to share their gifts. They can testify to how God can use any culture as long as it’s the Spirit working inside out. Be transformed by the renewing of your mind, then the culture will be transformed. Inside out.”

Understanding the roots of hip hop also matters. “Hip hop has a history that is vitally important for our understanding of the culture itself, its people and much of North American culture in the past few decades,” says Newselph. Without that understanding churches risk engaging with a caricature rather than a community.

That community, built on authenticity and relationship, reflects values our churches profess to uphold. If churches are willing to listen, they might just be surprised by how much they can learn.

Jon Corbin is a hip-hop artist, high school teacher, producer, spoken word poet, speaker, podcaster, writer and DJ in Nova Scotia (JonCorbin.BandCamp.com).