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Josiah Queen’s Journey From Church Janitor to Chart-Topping Worship Artist

Josiah Queen’s Journey From Church Janitor to Chart-Topping Worship Artist

By the time Josiah Queen’s debut album hit No. 1 on Billboard’s Top Christian Albums chart, he’d already lived what most artists would call a whirlwind year: four tours, viral TikToks, record deals on the table and a breakout single that pushed him from church janitor to festival stages. But the 22-year-old singer-songwriter doesn’t talk like someone who’s riding a wave. He talks like someone who’s surprised the wave even showed up in the first place.

“This was always the dream,” Queen said. “I used to pray that I’d just get to write worship music for a living. That’s all I ever wanted.”

And now he’s doing it. But it didn’t happen through a label machine or polished radio formula. It happened when Queen decided to stop chasing what Christian music was supposed to sound like and started making songs that actually meant something to him.

“I was writing songs that I thought would work for the radio — what I thought labels wanted,” he said. “And they weren’t really clicking. So finally I said, ‘Forget it. I’m just gonna make something I like.’ That’s where it started.”

That shift led to “I Am Barabbas,” a stripped-down, soul-bearing track that felt more front porch than fog machine. The song caught traction online, followed by “Fishes and Loaves,” then “The Prodigal” — a gut-punch of a single that would go on to anchor his debut album and change his career trajectory almost overnight.

“I recorded it independently, with my buddy Jared in Nashville,” he said. “No label, no big plan. I’d just post videos and people kept sharing them. That’s when I thought, ‘Maybe I can quit being a janitor now.’”

It’s tempting to call Queen’s rise a TikTok success story, but that would undersell the depth of his songwriting. His lyrics read like journal entries — earnest, haunted by doubt, brimming with awe. It’s worship music, sure, but with the fingerprints of folk troubadours like Tyler Childers and Noah Kahan smudged across the edges. Queen grew up on Hillsong and Phil Wickham, but he credits Childers’ guitar work with inspiring him to learn fingerpicking. That blending of modern folk and sacred themes has made his music resonate beyond the usual Christian circles.

“I only listened to Christian music growing up — like, literally nothing else,” he said, laughing. “But once I started writing my own songs, I fell in love with the sound of guys like Zach Bryan. There’s something raw there. Something honest.”

Honesty, in fact, might be the throughline of Queen’s entire project. Whether he’s singing about grace, grief or his own distracted spiritual life, he’s not interested in polish. He’s interested in presence. That comes through clearly on his upcoming sophomore album, which he says is thematically built around Mount Sinai — less a metaphor for awe and more a metaphor for distance.

“In Exodus, the people are too afraid to go near the mountain because God’s presence is there,” he said. “That hit me. Like, how many things in my life keep me from approaching God? Not because I’m scared, but because I’m just too distracted. Too busy. On my phone too much. Overwhelmed.”

He pauses and adds, “This album is me figuring out how to come back.”

That sense of returning — not just to God but to what’s real — is what sets Queen apart in a genre that’s often overproduced and underwritten. His music doesn’t lecture. It confesses. And that’s precisely why so many Gen Z listeners are gravitating toward it.

“There’s this hunger for truth,” he said. “Even among people who don’t go to church. They’re tired of being sold something. They want what’s real. And I think people are starting to see that Jesus isn’t just a fairytale. There’s something here that actually holds up.”

The science backs that up. Recent Barna data shows a surprising uptick in spiritual interest among Gen Z — particularly among young men. And Queen’s music is often part of that discovery process. He’s constantly hearing from listeners who don’t identify as Christians but find themselves undone by The Prodigal.

“They’ll say, ‘I’ve never been to church, but this song speaks to me,’” Queen said. “Or a parent will bring their kid to a show, and that kid wouldn’t set foot in a church, but they’ll come to a concert. And they’ll hear the gospel in a way that doesn’t feel forced. That’s what gets me. That’s the part I’ll never get over.”

The other part he’s still getting used to? Touring with the artists he grew up idolizing. This year, Queen joins Brandon Lake and Phil Wickham on the Summer Worship Nights Tour — an opportunity he describes as both exciting and mildly terrifying.

“One of the venues seats like 30,000 people,” he said. “I don’t even know what that looks like. But honestly, I’m just trying to learn from guys who’ve done this a lot longer than me. I’m going in with a student mindset.”

That posture of humility — paired with his near-obsessive work ethic — might be the secret to Queen’s staying power. He’s still wide-eyed about the fact that any of this is happening, but he’s also smart enough to know that momentum doesn’t maintain itself. He’s building a team, signing with Capitol and thinking long-term about sustainability.

“My biggest takeaway from all of this? You’re only as good as the team around you,” he said. “God’s been faithful in surrounding me with people who work hard, who believe in the music. I don’t take that for granted.”

For now, he’s focused on finishing the new album, rolling out a few more singles this summer or maybe just spending some time on the water.

“I just got my boat license,” he said, grinning. “Captain Josiah, let’s go.”

But more than career milestones or streaming stats, Queen’s just trying to keep his eyes on the thing that made all of this worth doing in the first place.

“At the end of the day,” he said, “I want people to hear these songs and want more of Jesus. That’s it. If that happens, then I’ve done what I came to do.”

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