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by Virgil Walker
July 27, 2025
It’s not the lights. But it is the fog machines. It’s not even the style of music.
It’s the posture. The lyrics. The tone.
We’ve turned the worship of a holy, sovereign King into the emotional soundtrack of a middle school breakup.
When grown men are on stage whispering into a mic, eyes glazed over, singing about being "held" and "embraced" while swaying like they’re in a trance—we have a problem. Not because emotion is wrong. But because effeminacy in the name of worship is not reverence. It’s confusion.
Somehow we’ve forgotten that worship is war.
Psalm 144:1 says, "Blessed be the Lord, my rock, who trains my hands for war, and my fingers for battle." That’s worship. That’s masculine. That’s David.
But today?
We’ve got men singing l…
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