Kanye West recently went from Yeezus to Jesus, and the listening world has been ‘all ears’ to say the very least.
His latest album, Jesus Is King, records something more than just a new, musical side of Kanye—but a new Kanye, altogether, as he announces his newfound faith in Jesus Christ.
This new Kanye has not come without much Internet attention and streaming power, perhaps now more than ever before, especially from the Christian community. And as expected, there’s been a broad range of response surrounding Kanye’s new brand of music and brand new conversion.
- Some are ecstatic, becoming new converts to Kanye and his music.
- Some sneer at the whole phenomena, preferring the ‘old Kanye, the straight from the go Kanye / chop up the soul Kanye, set on his goals Kanye’ instead.[1]
- Some remain skeptical, wondering if this is a short-lived fad or subtle marketing stunt.
And then again, there’s the well-meaning person caught in the middle who simply doesn’t know what to do with the entire thing at all—not wanting to be too excited at the expense of being fancifully naive, or too skeptical at the expense of being smugly self-righteous.
But celebrity conversion is not a recent or new phenomenon. It seems to pop up every now and then, and maybe even more than we think or remember. A few recent examples include Justin Bieber, Chris Pratt, Shia LaBeouf, Selena Gomez and Chance the Rapper—all of whom have surfaced in the media somewhat recently for expressing their newfound Christian convictions. Kanye’s conversion is not a new phenomenon; in fact, it’s one of many that have happened this half decade, and throughout history.
And so, the conversation needs to be addressed, “How should Christians respond to Kanye’s conversion in particular, or celebrity conversions in general?” How should we best respond and navigate the cultural hoopla and social media eruption when an A-list celebrity comes to faith in Jesus? And perhaps even more telling, what does our response say about us after all?
This list is certainly not exhaustive, as I’m sure there are many insights and applications that can gleaned from the topic of celebrity conversion. But here are 7 different thoughts that I believe can help us navigate such a phenomenon with both clarity and charity, truth and grace.
1. If there’s any conversion you should be most surprised at, it should be your own.
What usually happens when someone first hears of a celebrity conversion is a response of shock or surprise. What usually doesn’t happen is no response at all. And usually, the ‘bigger’ the celebrity, the ‘bigger’ the response—from both media and ourselves.
But our initial response requires at least some evaluation: what does the nature of our response communicate?
- Are we shocked in an ‘unbelievable’ kind of way because someone like ‘that’ came to faith?
- Are we surprised in an ‘excited’ kind of way because this means something ‘for’ our faith?
- Or is our response categorically different altogether?
To be sure, pre-conversion Kanye was not exactly a champion of Christianity. So it’s understandable that his conversion is particularly surprising. But then again, we must also stave off too much surprise by 1) reminding ourselves that the Bible is chalk full of precisely these types of characters—Abraham, Noah, Moses, Rahab, Gideon, Samson, Ruth, David, Solomon, Peter, Thomas, Matthew and Paul, to name a handful—all of which were pagans, murderers, thieves, rebels, adulterers, or moralists; and 2) reaffirming that the Bible’s central message concerns the redemption God offers in Christ to all people, regardless of what they have done against or even done for God.
If we are surprised because someone like ‘that’—whether ‘socially great’ or ‘greatly sinful’—becomes a Christian, then more is being communicated about the nature of our faith in that moment than their own experience of it. Namely, it reveals that we carry around a back pocket-sized cross for our own sin and brandish an inflated view of ourselves (since, our sin isn’t that big of a deal comparatively, and we most certainly are otherwise).
If Kanye could be likened to any New Testament Bible character, I’d think he’d compare best to the Apostle Paul—popular, platformed, and previously pompous (although Paul was far worse morally). But what I love about the Apostle Paul is that we can actually see the template of spiritual growth at work through his own letters to churches in the Roman Empire. As he grows as a Christian, we’re able to see his increasing reckoning with God’s grace growing in his own life.
For example, in 57 AD when he writes a letter to the Corinthian church, he refers to himself as, “the least of all the apostles” (1 Cor. 15:9). Five years later, however, around 62 AD when he writes a letter to the church at Ephesus, he demotes himself, referring to himself as “the least of the church” (Eph. 3:8). And then, a couple years later around 65 AD when he writes a letter to Timothy, he gives himself another demotion, referring to himself as “the least of sinners” (1 Tim. 1:15).
What’s going on here? Is Paul getting worse as a Christian… or better? Or, does ‘worse’ actually mean ‘better’ in some odd spiritual way? Paul is not saying virtue comes by continual self-deprecation or inauthentic asceticism; rather, he’s explaining that God’s grace simply opens your eyes to your own sinfulness, more and more—continually revealing that you are no better than anyone else.
As Paul grew in maturity and sanctification over the years, his understanding of and dependence upon God’s grace became larger, not smaller—showing us that growth is not being more spiritually self-sufficient, but recognizing how spiritually insufficient you are and sufficient his grace really is. When Christians mature, they grow deeper into grace—not beyond their need for it. Increasingly, God’s grace becomes more and more weighty, which makes their capacity for humility and empathy unto the ‘worst of sinners’ increasingly more substantial, not less.
Therefore, the more a Christian grows in grace, the more shocked they ought to be at their own conversion first. By the grace of God, the sin and God-rebellion we should be most acquainted with is not Kanye’s, or anyone else’s for that matter, but our own.
Any Christian who’s shocked about a certain sinner coming to repentance has truly forgotten the miracle of their own.
But for other Christians, their ‘shocked’ response isn’t an expression of smugness towards Kanye’s conversion; rather, it may be an expression of excitement for what Kanye’s conversion now means for their own faith. This leads to the next point…
2. If you need a celebrity to validate your faith, then your gospel is too small.
There’s certainly nothing wrong with rallying around A-list celebrities who come to faith in Christ. However, sometimes the over-excitement can seem a little fishy, and maybe revelatory.
Perhaps you have sensed this, too, but sometimes the over-excitement when a celebrity comes to faith seems as if it rises from an insecure Christianity, one that cries, “I know we’re not that cool… I know we’re different… But look! He’s a celebrity, and he’s COOL! And now, he’s one of us! See, Christianity clearly isn’t that uncool after all!”
Whereas the last response exhibits sourly skepticism, this response displays cheap triumphalism.
In this case, the conversion becomes another ‘notch’ in the belt, or another ‘badge’ to boast, in the effort for making a case as to why Christians are right and ought to be validated in our culture. But this is not a Christian response—at all.
This response does not treat a conversion as a beautiful thing in itself, but primarily as means to an ends—seemingly, for greater social power or cultural validation.
Of course, possessing social favor in itself is not a bad thing. But seeking cultural validation of your own faith simply betrays your faith as something that is primarily cultural after all.
Christians know that cultural validation comes and goes, ebbs and flows, and here is one day and is gone the next day. But if biblical history or church history shows us anything at all, it’s that cultural validation is hardly tertiary, sometimes helpful, and usually complicated.
That’s another topic altogether, but the truth is, cultural validation is not necessary for anyone’s faith. The Bible does not implore believers to consider it pure joy when our faith gets cultural validation of many kinds, but when our faith faces trials of many kinds, because it produces steadfastness and maturity (Ja. 1:2-4).
Besides, if there was anyone who didn’t seek cultural validation at all, it was Jesus himself, who stood in contrast to both the religious and irreligious cultures his day, the Jews and the Romans. He didn’t seek out the wealthy, the connected, the strong, the ones who could tithe the most, or the ones who had political leverage. In fact, you could argue that he offended those types of people the most.
He preached the kingdom of God to all people—Jew and Gentile, rich and poor, strong and weak—impartially and unreservedly. Jesus depended on no one, as if he needed their strengths or resources or platforms for his kingdom in the first place. He pandered to no celebrity, and any celebrity who tried pandering to or controlling him was readily met with frustration and bewilderment. Jesus fit no category and was not predictably tame in the way people so often wished. No one could manage him nicely into the boxes they’d created for him. And in many ways, he summoned them out of the boxes they’d created conveniently for themselves.
For example, the young, rich ruler himself turned and walked away at Jesus’ perplexing, convicting words (Mt. 19:22). Nicodemus, a religious leader, sought Jesus and left more perplexed and convicted than he ever could have expected (Jn. 3:2). And Jairus, a social elite, pleaded with Jesus in public, and yet Jesus blasted his spiritual categories into pieces in private—resurrecting a new life he’d never forget (Mk. 5:22).
The similarity between each of these ‘modern celebrities’? None helped Jesus, nor were they ‘outfitted’ to better serve his mission by virtue of what they brought to the table (even though they offered a lot, according to the world’s standards). Rather, Jesus was the one who helped them, and it was his mission that rescued them. Jesus wasn’t held hostage to their political leverage or social power or religious categories; but by coming to him, they were freed of their own.
Even before the crucifixion, Pontius Pilate interrogated Jesus, asking him about his ‘type’ of kingdom. And there too, Jesus responded with a critique to his categories: “My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting, that I might not be delivered over to the Jews. But my kingdom is not from the world” (Jn. 18:36).
In other words, Jesus’ kingdom doesn’t rely on the things that our earthly kingdoms often rely upon: strength, purchasing power, social currency, political leverage, etc. Jesus’ kingdom flips the paradigm; his would be one accomplished through weakness and servitude, by his blood, and in our repentance—literally the exact opposite. In Jesus’ kingdom, all people—including celebrities—bow to him; he’ll never bow to a celebrity or their power.
So what does this say about our own faith when it comes to celebrity conversion? It means that if we champion celebrity conversions for the express purpose of cultural validation, it shows that our Jesus is too small, and that we’re bowing to social / cultural power to fill in the gaps, just in a distorted, pseudo-Christian kind of way.
If we need celebrity conversions to validate or bolster our own faith, then what we’re essentially conveying is that Jesus’ life, cross, and grave is not good enough and that we need something additionally substantial to trust in and to stand upon as a Christian in our culture.
But cultural validation is as fickle as the trends of the day. The only validation that matters is from God and his Word, which will remain for eternity. In other words, validation with expiration is no validation at all; validation without expiration is the only validation worthy to ground oneself upon.
This means a Christian’s validation isn’t an A-list celebrity—or even an A-list celebrity pastor for that matter—but God and his Word, uncoupled with the support of what an A-list celebrity says who God is.
If we need an A-List celebrity’s word about who God is—in addition to God’s own word about who he is—then we’ve already shown our own hand as to whose words hold more weight in our own lives after all. But this should not at all be surprising since most of us know more lyrics from that A-list celebrity than God’s own words anyways.
Overall, we should each evaluate our own initial reactions when we hear of a celebrity conversion.
Whether it’s skepticism or triumphalism—it could be that both reactions are not fundamentally different, but actually two heads of the same dragon. This is because both expressions use a celebrity conversion to validate their own faith. The former does so negatively through skepticism; the latter does so positively through triumphalism. In this case, both responses are not dissimilar, they’re just split by different sentiments (positively and negatively) that subtly branch off and manifest from the same serpent-DNA of tribalism.
So, does this mean we shouldn’t respond at all, even in rejoicing? Is this a call to stoicism? No, certainly not. Rather, it’s a call to reorient our reacting away from the celebrity as a celebrity, and responding to the conversion as a conversion, and more importantly, the grace of God behind it. The distinction may seem tedious, but it has massive consequences; namely, safeguarding oneself from veering into either ditch on both sides of the road, from sour skepticism and cheap triumphalism.
This leads to the next point…
3. Our response to celebrity conversion (or any conversion) should ultimately be unto God, not primarily unto a celebrity.
The biblical response to any conversion is not under-reaction or over-reaction, not skepticism or triumphalism, not a sour ‘let’s wait and see…’ nor a naïve ‘let’s platform them for kingdom purposes!’ The biblical response is to praise our Father in heaven (Mt. 6). It’s a response of emotion and perspective that doesn’t end on the convert, but finds its end in the Good Shepherd who’s accountable for all his sheep, who found a lost sheep, and who knows every detail, whether that sheep was star-studded or not.
It’s easy for us to tether our rejoicing to the contingency plan of whether or not that convert ‘proves themselves’ to the rest of us (but how should we really know anyways?). Instead, we should rejoice because our response to any repentance—and anyone’s repentance—should always be rejoicing, and because repentance is always a work of God, not someone else’s work (Rom. 2:4).
The Christian response should be a type of rejoicing that not contingent upon their record or their future, but upon God’s hand and grace at work and to work in their life. When our response is primarily a response unto God, and not to a celebrity, it lifts them up out from the pits of our skepticism from otherwise dropping them too low, and it brings them down from the clouds of our triumphalism from otherwise exalting them too high.
Meaning, a gospel perspective endows us with the ability to view all people as equally dependent upon God and his work. After all, it is a work of God that was started, a work of God that will continue, and a work he will carry out unto completion (Phil. 1:8). Our response—if any at all—ought to be primarily a response to God; one of rejoicing.
Luke 15:10 says, “In the same way, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.” If this is heaven’s response, it ought to be ours as well.
4. Let’s not be too quick to exalt a recent convert to a Christian platform, simply because they already have a platform in our society and culture.
Even motivated by the right kind of rejoicing, we still might naturally think, “Well, that celebrity can use their big platform for Christ now! And…. WE can now use their platform for Christ!”
But the Bible does not jump as quickly to this conclusion as we might. We operate upon expediency in our culture, though it’s hardly a biblical ideal at best, and even more so when it comes to Christian leadership.
To reference the Apostle Paul once more, if anyone knew this truth well in the New Testament, it was probably him. Even though he had built a platform of influence over the years, God did not seem interested in showcasing Paul’s ‘celebrity’ conversion readily upon that same platform, even though it would have seemed silly not to from our perspective.
In fact, after Paul’s conversion, God had him wait 17 years in the wilderness—working out his own salvation, learning, growing, changing—before he stepped onto the public stage again (Gal. 1:18 – 2:1).
Perhaps, upon recognizing the necessity of his own growth and dependency, he wrote to his mentee Timothy, inspired by the Holy Spirit, “Do not lay hands upon anyone too hastily and thereby share responsibility for the sins of others; keep yourself free from sin” (1 Tim. 5:22). Back then, the laying on of hands symbolized an appointment of Christian leadership, an approval of their platform of influence for the kingdom of Christ. As such, the Scriptures exhort us to NOT give a platform to anyone in the church—regardless of the platform they currently possess in society—not until they’ve proven themselves more and more to us, but until they’ve given themselves more and more unto God.
Todd Wagner, pastor of Watermark Church in Dallas, TX says, “Before we put the pressures of Christian leadership upon them, we want to give them the time, space, and grace to grow and be discipled.”[2]
Shortcutting discipleship in the name of expediting kingdom purposes is not expediting kingdom purposes after all; it’s short-changing them. Let’s allow God to do his work, and not rush him. Otherwise, we won’t be merely ‘getting ahead’ of him on the same road, as it were; rather, we’ll be taking a different path and missing him altogether.
5. What does Kanye need from the church? Discipleship & Prayer.
When someone professes their faith, Christians should encourage them, yet lovingly treat them like a true child of the faith, with all grace and encouragement.
It’s truly unfortunate that Kanye’s sanctification process will take place under the constant spotlight and recoding lens of mainstream media, for everyone to see. He, by virtue of his own celebrity status, simply does not share the privilege of a having more personal, private sanctification process like we do.
I don’t know about you, but I am encouraged that anyone would willingly dive into the sanctification process—sinning, failing, learning, growing in following Jesus—with the public eye ready to critique and condemn. Fortunately, most of us will never have to experience that.
But Kanye, and any celebrity who converts to Christ, will have to walk through that gauntlet. This is why the greatest thing we do for Kanye is to pray for him, and that those closest to him will pour into him in private more than they platform him in public.
Nevertheless, we simply shouldn’t expect maturity out of a celebrity convert simply because they have a platform. Platform and gifting do not mean maturity—and that goes for anyone. So let’s not wrongly conflate the two together.
A recent celebrity convert is a child of faith, who needs time to grow and develop, just like the rest of us. And just as a boss wouldn’t hand off his company to his 10 year old child, neither should we move a child of faith to the platform Christian leadership, either, even if they have a large ‘non-churchy’ platform themselves already.
6. What does the church need from Kanye? Nothing.
Celebrity favor, social power, cultural validation—which depends on an ever-changing myriad factors in every era—comes and goes, but the church will last forever.
And so, the church doesn’t need anything from Kanye, as if it lacks anything. And it won’t receive anything truly eternal from Kanye that Jesus hasn’t already given his church anyways.
1 Peter 1:3 says, “[Jesus’] divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of him who called us to his own glory and excellence…”
So whether in times of cultural validation or not, or whether in times of social abundance or not, the church doesn’t need money or fame or social leverage or political power—as if the success and mission of the church was ever fueled or sustained by those things anyways.
In fact, one could argue that where the church is currently thriving the most powerfully right now is precisely where it lacks the most social and political power of all—places like China and Iran, where the gospel is combusting at a white hot power, which has been unseen for centuries in those areas.
The church is here for Kanye, and anyone else who comes to the Lord. But the church certainly isn’t hanging in the balance, desperately waiting for a celebrity to come to their rescue.
7. Do you celebrate the “commoner” as much as the “celebrity”?
If we come to celebrate the conversion of a commoner as much as a celebrity, this means that all worldly utility has, finally, rightly left the equation of our response.
Jesus went after the 1 who left the 99 because it was one his sheep, just like all the others. Of course, some sheep probably were “more promising” than others based on the standards of the day. Some had better wool. Some had longer life-expectancy. Some were more fertile. Some were stronger. But Jesus does not ration or reserve his attention to any sheep because of what they unequally offered to him, but because each sheep was equally his own.
Too often, we do not treat conversions like Jesus does. Perhaps our over-celebration of the celebrity and under-celebration of the commoner reveals that we are celebrating status more than savedness, which reveals more about our faith than it does theirs.
So, where is Kanye right now?
Kanye hopped onto Jimmy Kimmel’s show the other day, and Jimmy asked him, “So does this mean you’re a Christian rapper now?” And Kanye answered, “I’m a Christian everything.” Whatever you believe about Kanye and regardless of how you’ve sorted through your emotions regarding his conversion—his statement is about as orthodox of an answer as you can possibly get.[3]
He even added, “I used my platform for promoting high fashion; then I used it to promote Hennessy. And now I’m going to use it to promote Jesus.”
I don’t know of anyone who could argue that this isn’t an amazing indication of repentance and lordship. I’ve even heard reports now that he’s now enrolled in Reformed Theological Seminary, which is an esteemed, evangelical seminary. (I’m going to figure out which class, so I can join…)
Overall, we must look in the mirror. What does our response to Kanye’s conversion in particular, or celebrity conversion in general, say about us?
Whatever it might be, the solution for us all to begin seeing Kanye as God sees Kanye is to first dwell on the same message that saved him… and saved us. In doing so, we’ll find deeper wells of humility, larger barracks of hope, and the richer motivation for the type of prayer that had previously escaped us.
As the Apostle Paul says, “For to this end we toil and strive, because we have
our hope set on the living God, who is the Savior of all people, especially of
those who believe” (1 Tim. 4:10).
[1] Kanye West, “I Love Kanye.” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ch8g-sJb6ow.
[2] Todd Wagner, “Words from Wags,” IGTV. https://www.instagram.com/tv/B4V2iWhH_Mb/
[3] Todd Wagner, “Words from Wags.”
