Imagine this: It’s Monday morning. You’ve just exited your car, still immersed in the lingering rhythms of Hot 97, a station you’ve loyally followed since the 90s. As you make your way into the workplace, casual greetings from colleagues punctuate your walk—names called out across the hallway, creating a momentary surge of dopamine, a fleeting social ritual that momentarily affirms shared presence. Upon reaching your desk, however, you are greeted by something else: the harmonious sounds of a choir singing hymns devoted to the Judeo-Christian God.
Or, perhaps, your experience has been the inverse. You’ve just completed a solitary praise and worship session in your car, having concluded with Beverly Song Burton’s stirring composition, Boldly to the Throne. After receiving the same dopamine-laden greetings from co-workers, you step into the workspace, only to be met by the thumping bassline of the latest drill music anthem.
In both instances, neither experience feels ideal. Both parties believe they have the right to curate the auditory atmosphere according to their preferences, each justifying the legitimacy of their choice. This scenario is something I’ve encountered repeatedly, and it has prompted deeper reflection. I’ve observed how some Christians, dismayed by the secular culture of their work environment, attempt to “sanctify” it by playing religious music, particularly gospel or worship selections.
Out of curiosity, I’ve engaged in conversations with them, asking why they feel it appropriate to introduce religious music into a shared, secular space. Their responses are almost uniform: “If they can play their music, I can play mine.” While I understand this reasoning, it has always seemed somewhat flawed. I don’t view the two categories of music—religious and secular—as occupying equivalent spaces. The dynamic isn’t as simple as a binary opposition.
The issue isn’t with universally recognized, almost sacrosanct songs like Madonna’s La Isla Bonita, Whitney Houston’s I Will Always Love You, Mariah Carey’s All I want for Christmas (insert eye roll), or Michael Jackson’s Billie Jean (despite its morally ambiguous lyrics). In Billie Jean, the story revolves around a woman who claims the narrator is the father of her child, while he repeatedly denies this. The moral ambiguity lies in the tension between the narrator’s denial and Billie Jean’s insistence, raising questions about whether there was an affair and, if so, whether the narrator is shirking his responsibility. Alternatively, if Billie Jean is lying, her actions are equally problematic, leaving the listener in a gray area of unresolved morality. Despite this, these songs have woven themselves into the fabric of cultural history. You might even hear them at Christian gatherings—no one’s reaching to turn them off, and some deacons might even be inclined to bust a move.
The crux of the issue lies in more explicitly vulgar content—songs that feature uncensored, profane language, or whose messages remain problematic even in their clean versions. These are the songs that are abruptly silenced when upper management makes their rounds.
I can understand the discomfort that arises from working in such an environment. Yet, I’ve often argued that introducing Christian music into the mix can be more problematic, unless there is explicit and genuine consensus. And by consensus, I mean a deliberative and conscious agreement among all involved parties, not a presumed or imposed one. This is critical because the topics often considered most volatile in public discourse—religion, politics, and economics—are also the ones that are deeply personal and can lead to discord. These subjects have the potential to generate not only disagreement but outright antagonism, if handled poorly.
While the music is a focal point, it is emblematic of a larger issue: the tendency to attempt to regulate shared spaces to reflect individual preferences. The true problem, I would argue, isn’t necessarily the type of music being played. The problem is the inability to tolerate what one finds distasteful, to remain focused on professional objectives, and to exhibit a form of agapic love that transcends personal irritations. All this is taking place with the Christian believing that he/she is empowered to meet the challenges of the day. Somehow this empowerment doesn’t seem sufficient enough to actually work on the ground, in the real world .
Reporting the playing of inappropriate music to management may seem like a favorable resolution to some. However, this approach often neglects the interpersonal friction it may generate with colleagues. It can create an atmosphere where the victory feels Pyrrhic1, as it is achieved at the expense of collegial goodwill. And yet, if this course of action is pursued, it’s essential to acknowledge that Christian music may likewise be deemed inappropriate in such a secular workspace, subject to the same regulatory oversight. You aren’t at church, your home, or some other secluded area.
Here is a perhaps an ignored reality for some Christians: not everyone in the workplace adheres to belief in the God of the Bible. For some, Jesus holds little to no significance. Your colleagues may include Muslims, Sikhs, Hindus, Jews, and those who identify as secular humanists or atheists. Their tolerance for gospel music may mirror your own tolerance—or lack thereof—of the latest chart-topping song.
Interestingly, I’ve rarely encountered individuals from these groups who object to secular music. However, if the workplace environment becomes one where music selections are constantly contested, the logical outcome is likely to be a blanket ban on all personal music. More concerning, though, is the potential creation of enmity among coworkers, which could foster a hostile work environment. And such a scenario—where interpersonal relationships deteriorate because of an inability to reconcile differences—is far more detrimental than the initial issue of music itself. At that point, productivity suffers, and professional relationships may become irreparably damaged.
I understand that this line of reasoning may seem counterintuitive to some. But as I’ve stated, this goes beyond music. Consider the common use of vulgar language in the workplace. Is this, too, not part of the normative behavior of much of society? Should Christians expect those around them to adopt a more refined lexicon simply because of their presence? I don’t think so.
While it may be flattering when colleagues voluntarily adjust their language out of respect for your beliefs, such concessions should arise organically, not through coercion or disapproving stares. Ideally, your presence in the workplace should inspire a level of comfort where others feel free to be themselves. That is not to say that these selves aren’t scary. In this context, genuine relationships can form, and opportunities for deeper, meaningful conversations—perhaps even about faith—may emerge.
Notes
Featured Image: Jerry Jacques via Midjourney.
- A Pyrrhic victory refers to a win that comes at such a significant cost that it negates any sense of achievement or profit gained. The term originates from King Pyrrhus of Epirus, who defeated the Romans in 279 BC but suffered such heavy losses in the process that it was tantamount to defeat. In this context, a Pyrrhic victory could be seen when someone achieves a goal (such as removing inappropriate music from the workplace) but damages relationships and creates hostility in the process, thus diminishing the value of the victory. ↩︎