Late Rep. John Lewis famously encouraged civil rights activists to “get in good trouble, necessary trouble.” During the civil rights era, Lewis and his fellow activists dedicated their lives to righting wrongs and changing the world one step at a time.
That message has resonated with millions over the last few decades, in particular Chris Llewellyn form Rend Collective. Llewellyn saw Lewis’ message as a reflection of Jesus’ own mission. He’s been wrestling with that idea for a few years, and recently has put that idea to paper (and song) on the Irish worship band’s new EP Folk Part 1.
Ahead of the release, we sat down with Llewellyn to hear about what kind of “holy trouble” Christians should be getting in to, and how he’s using his vocation to encourage the Church to make some necessary changes.
This conversation has been edited for length and clarity.
What exactly is “Holy Trouble”?
Chris Llewellyn: It’s funny, it’s the kind of song that started with the title. It was inspired by the idea civil rights activist John Lewis put forward, where he talked about getting into “good trouble.” That felt to me like the message of Jesus, because there’s always this tension inside the Christian story.
There’s the version of Jesus that sits at tables with everyone, from religious professionals to sex workers, to literally anyone you can name. He’s gentle but powerful, and that’s a real aspect of scripture. But there’s a tension with the same Jesus who gets arrested and crucified by the state—a political edge to him that feels uncomfortable.
The song is about the wrestling I’ve had, trying to figure out if worship music is too small to talk about this side of Jesus. Can I take the risk and sing about a more three-dimensional Jesus?
What are some areas of the world where we need to create some “holy trouble” today?
Honestly, I prefer to stay at the 30,000-foot level. What I want the song to do is invite people to figure that out for themselves. If I spell it out, I feel like I’ve done it wrong. You know, like those Christian movies where the plot tells you exactly what you’re supposed to think, and then everybody gets saved. It’s okay, but it’s not the goal.
When I write a song, I hope it provokes good questions rather than giving a specific action point. I feel like that’s the part of Christian art that’s missing—provoking thought and giving people the dignity to draw their own conclusions and do something interesting with them. Listing specific causes would strip away that dignity a bit.
You mentioned you wanted to explore a different side of Jesus that we don’t often talk about in worship. Why do you think this isn’t explored more?
Probably because of the “worship industrial complex,” if I’m honest. People respond really well to familiarity. I remember being introduced to some statistics when I first started in Christian music, and it horrified me that people thought like this. But familiarity is one of the things that helps a Christian song rise to the top. Songwriters are encouraged to stick with the familiar because it makes the songs test better on the radio.
We can get trapped in cycles of saying the same things because they become cozy. It’s like watching the same Christmas movies every year. Introducing something new can be hard because we love what’s familiar. The worship industrial complex would rather release Avengers 9 than something brand new.
Do you feel pressure to stick to that formula and make something familiar?
Oh my goodness, yes. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t fallen into that trap too. We’ve bowed to that pressure because doing something different is scary. It’s tied to our livelihood, our faith, and our human desire for approval. I’ve definitely felt that pressure.
What has rescued us from it is middle age. I can’t tell you how much less I care now about what people think of me. When we first started, I really wanted to be liked. I wanted to be a good boy and have everyone cheer me on.
But one of the great things about growing up and going through hard things is realizing that life is too short for that. The Bible is better than that, and our audience deserves more than that. The audience doesn’t exist to prop up the artist—the artist exists to serve the audience and give them respect. That’s what I hope we’re doing 10 or 15 years into our career. I just want to serve up something substantial and treat the audience with respect.
A lot of young people struggle with identity and purpose. It sounds like you’re still figuring it out yourself, but do you have any advice for those struggling with where to start?
I think one of the most beautiful things about identity is the recognition that, so early in the story, God declares us good. I think that’s a great starting point. Sometimes we get caught up in the idea that God doesn’t like or love us as we are, and that we start in a deficit, needing to uncover a good purpose because we’re innately bad.
Of course, we do bad things. Just read the news—humans do bad things. But for me, it’s been about recognizing that God made me and thought I was good. There’s something innately good, something of the image of God in me, and that helps me uncover who I am.
