I love moments of convergence — the point where two or more things come together. Whether it’s expressions, styles or communities, it’s a beautiful thing when unlikely combinations create something surprising.
My favourite concerts are multi-genre. In my early days as an emcee in Kitchener-Waterloo, Ontario, it was commonplace to see me on a bill with bands that played punk, metal, or—most fun and peculiar of all—cabaret-inspired pop fusion. I love it when different genres come together.
In the summer of 2024, my family hosted a house concert as a final farewell to our friends in Ontario. Our open-concept kitchen and living room were crammed with more than fifty people from all walks of life: retired teachers, poets, white aunts and uncles in their seventies, and Black dreadlocked musicians half their age.
Together, we listened, danced, and celebrated our family’s upcoming adventure to Canada’s East Coast. It was a thrill to see folks of all ages and backgrounds sharing a space. I love it when different people come together.
I’m drawn to the moments of convergence when the ingredients don’t seem to fit. Over the years, I’ve received my share of quizzical looks when I discuss being deeply invested in my Christian faith and equally passionate about Hip Hop music and culture.
One of those questions came from my Mennonite grandfather. When my mother proudly told him that I had recorded and produced a Hip Hop album on a shoestring budget, he immediately asked: “Is it worshipful?”
I thought he might pause to celebrate the effort–I had just climbed a large mountain with very little equipment. But I know his response reflected his priorities: he wanted his grandkids to maintain their faith. However, it left me with just a tinge of sadness because I wanted him to see how deeply my faith was embedded in the record.
That moment sums up a wider reality—there are generations of Canadian Christians who struggle to see how faith in Christ and Hip Hop expression go together. And to be fair, the pairing hasn’t always been done well. For decades, it has been manufactured in subpar ways and sold to the unsuspecting. I listened to some of it as a kid. But I learned that there is a true, authentic expression of Hip Hop that also edifies the faith. When it’s done sincerely and with skill, it’s close to magical.
My extensive CD collection, my vast digital library, and my daily playlists are filled with music that elevates my spirit–much of it from Christ-following artists who take their craft seriously. When I finish listening, I feel like a better person. I’m so encouraged that I feel a deep urge to share those moments, the same way I would share a piece of scripture that excites or convicts me.
But many of my friends in the faith don’t have the context to understand what Hip Hop really is, let alone why it matters to me so deeply. My excitement feels foreign to them. It’s like going to a sporting event where you don’t know the rules or the score, and the crowd is full of joy, chanting and screaming, only leaving you disoriented.
That’s part of the reason I wrote “Hip Hop was always part of the story”, my new cover feature in Faith Today. I wanted to create space for friends old and new—people who are authentically immersed in Hip Hop culture and love Jesus—to speak to the question: What do church folks need to know about Hip Hop?
In compiling this, I tried to gather a range of voices: different provinces, genders, ethnicities, and experiences. From the prairies, you’ll hear from Newselph, a producer and pastor in Alberta. I spoke to another Albertan, DJ Grubbernaut, who has a long history of battling and contributes to City Lights, a Canadian Hip Hop ministry. City Lights itself was founded by Youngdo Kang, a former pastor who carves out spaces for Toronto break dancers and graffiti artists to hone their craft.
From the Maritimes, I had the privilege of talking with One8Tea, an award-winning stalwart of the East Coast music scene. Finally, I was blessed to talk with Eternia, an incredibly skilled MC who raises the bar for rappers in Canada while her presence reminds the largely male community to make space for women in Hip Hop.
These conversations were humbling and hopeful. Together, they shaped a vision—a call, really—for a paradigm shift among my family members in the faith. Again and again, these artists pointed out how Hip Hop culture embodies hospitality, community care, and authenticity—sometimes in ways the Church itself struggles to live out. For some, that might be hard to hear.
But the beauty of convergence is the chance to learn. Humility is at the heart of following Jesus. It was in humility that these friends shared their experiences, their hurts, and their hopes for what could be.
If you’d like to help move this conversation forward, I’d appreciate your engagement with this piece. Share it with someone in your life who loves Jesus and might benefit from this dialogue. Have you ever loved something that others around you couldn’t understand? What are some unique combinations that inspire you?
One Love,
Jon