Ever introduced a song you were absolutely convinced would crush it, only to watch it crash and burn? You know the one. It sounded incredible on the recording. The lyrics made you tear up in your car. You were so ready to bring it to your people. And then Sunday morning happened. The band nailed it. The congregation? Silent. Confused. Politely enduring your artistic moment while mentally making grocery lists.
You know that awkward gap between what sounds good in theory and what actually works on Sunday morning? It’s not random. And it’s not about your people being unspiritual or musically challenged. Most of the time, it’s about us forgetting what we’re actually doing up there.
It’s Not About You (Hallelujah! Amen!)
Song selection is pastoral work. Full stop. It’s not about showcasing your band’s chops or riding whatever trend is lighting up your Spotify. It’s not about your personal worship playlist or that song that wrecked you at the last conference. Those things matter, sure, but they’re not the main thing.
So ask yourself this. Can your people participate? Can they sing it, believe it, and use it to meet Jesus? Because if they can’t, then no matter how anointed or excellent or current the song is, it’s not serving them. And we’re here to serve.
I think Jesus called it worship in spirit and truth. Spirit and truth. Not spirit OR truth. Not vibes without theology or doctrine without heart. Both. Together. And that means we have to keep one eye on Jesus and the other eye on the people. We’re leading them somewhere, not dragging them along behind our artistic vision.
And, honestly, once you embrace this, the job gets clearer. You’re not trying to impress anyone. You’re not competing with the church down the street. You’re pastoring your specific flock with songs that help them lift their specific voices to the one true God. That’s it. That’s the gig.
The Three-Legged Stool
If you want songs that actually work, you need three things. Miss one and the whole thing wobbles. Miss two and you’re toast.
Does It Tell the Truth?
First filter: theological soundness. Do the lyrics align with Scripture? Are they doctrinally solid for your tradition? Because here’s what we forget. Songs stick. They stick longer than sermons. They stick longer than announcements or small group discussions. People hum them in the shower. They sing them to their kids at bedtime. If you’re teaching bad theology through a catchy hook, that’s on you.
Let’s be truthful. There’s a lot of lyrical cotton candy out there. Vague feelings set to music. “Jesus, You’re amazing, You’re so great, I love You so much.” Okay, but WHY is He amazing? WHAT did He do? WHO is He? If you stripped away the music, would the words still matter? Would they teach anything? Would they point to the finished work of Christ or just our feelings about the finished work of Christ?
Both kinds of songs have a place. We need declaration—songs that proclaim who God is, what He’s done, His character, His nature. And we need response—songs that express how we feel, how we react, how we’re changed. But if your setlist is all response and no declaration, you’re just feeding people their own emotions back to them. That’s not worship. That’s a mirror.
So think about it in this way. Does this song have meat? Does it teach? Does it magnify Jesus or just magnify my experience of Jesus?
Can They Actually Sing It?
Second filter: singability. And I mean actually singable, not just singable for the worship team.
Let’s talk vocal range. Most of your people can comfortably sing between A3 and D5. That’s it. That’s the window. So when you pick a song that climbs to an F5 in the chorus because it sounds so powerful when Kristene DiMarco does it, you’ve just lost half your congregation. They’re not refusing to worship. They physically cannot hit that note. And now they’re embarrassed and distracted and definitely not encountering Jesus.
Melody matters too. Is it intuitive? Can someone learn it the first time through or does it require a doctorate in syncopation? Complex rhythms are fun for musicians. They’re torture for the guy in the third row who just wants to sing to his Savior without feeling like he’s failing a test.
And then there’s the hook factor. Will they remember this on Tuesday? Will they hum it in the car or sing it while folding laundry? Because if the song doesn’t stick, it’s not doing its job. Worship isn’t just a Sunday morning event. It’s a lifestyle. The songs we choose should travel with our people into their week.
I learned this one the hard way. I once picked a song with a bridge that was absolutely killer It was musically brilliant, lyrically rich, emotionally powerful. And utterly unsingable for anyone who wasn’t a trained vocalist. I watched my people’s faces glaze over. Bless them, they tried. But I’d chosen my own artistic thrill over their ability to participate. Never again.
Does It Fit Here, Now, With These People?
Third filter: context. This is where we get specific. Does the song align with the sermon? Does it support the Scripture passage the pastor is preaching from? Because if you’re singing about God’s justice and he’s preaching about God’s mercy, you’ve just created whiplash.
And know your room—your church, your people—their age, their culture, and their musical history. What works in a college town might not fly in a rural congregation. What resonates with boomers might leave Gen Z cold. This isn’t about being a slave to preferences, but about being wise. It’s about honoring the people you’ve been given to serve.
Can your team actually execute the song? Not just survive it, but do it with excellence? Because a mediocre performance of a great song is worse than a great performance of a mediocre song. If your keys player can’t handle the synth line or your vocalist can’t carry the melody without straining, pick something else. There’s no shame in that. There’s only wisdom.
And finally, does the song fit the arc of the service? Are you inviting people in? Declaring truth? Creating space for response? Facilitating encounter? Every song should have a purpose in the flow, not just exist because it’s on your list.
The Practical Playbook
Okay, so how do you actually DO this week after week without losing your mind? Here’s the rapid-fire checklist I run every song through:
- Are the lyrics consistent with Scripture and do they magnify Jesus?
- Do the songs invoke hope and faith?
- Are the melodies easy and accessible for any age?
- Are the musical hooks memorable?
- Do the songs support the preached word?
- Can the team execute the song skillfully?
Six questions. If you can’t answer yes to all six, keep looking.
And then there’s the rotation strategy. Want to know what works? Stick to one new song per service. That’s it. I know you went to that conference and got inspired and want to introduce seventeen new things. Just pick one and let your people learn it.
The four-week cycle is your friend. Teach a new song week one. Repeat it week two. Skip it week three. Bring it back week four. That’s how you lock it in. That’s how it moves from “new” to “ours.”
Keep a master list with the current rotation, songs under consideration, and the retired or seasonal songs. This keeps you from overwhelming people and also keeps you from forgetting that great song you haven’t sung in six months.
Chose to balance the old with the new. Weave in classic hymns or solid modern hymns alongside fresh contemporary songs. This honors the whole church family. The teenager who thinks anything written before 2020 is ancient history and the grandmother who met Jesus through “Great Is Thy Faithfulness” fifty years ago. They’re both your people. Serve them both.
The Gift Hidden in the Constraints
This is what I want you to hear. These aren’t creativity killers! These filters, guidelines, and limitations are actually love in action.
When you choose songs with theological integrity, musical accessibility, and contextual fit, you’re not playing it safe. You’re building a highway for the Spirit to move. You’re removing obstacles and you are pastoring. You’re saying to your people, “I see you. I know you. I’m choosing songs that will help you, not impress you.”
And when you do that faithfully, week after week, something beautiful happens. Your people learn to sing. They learn to worship. They learn to carry these truths with them into their marriages and their jobs and their heartbreaks. The songs you choose become the soundtrack of their faith.
And that—choosing songs that help your people sing their hearts to Jesus without stumbling over melodies they can’t reach or words they don’t believe—that’s a very good gift.




