When Faith and Activism Collide

(Image found on X at @DodgerBlue1958)

I sometimes feel as though I am living in a constant state of schizophrenic emotions—where conflicting thoughts and feelings are warring against one another. There are many times throughout the year when I experience this tension, and one of them is during the Super Bowl. Historically, the Super Bowl halftime show has become a moment when artists use their platform to speak out against whatever social ill is currently shaping our nation.

Last year, Kendrick Lamar used his voice to expose how racism continues to tear our country apart. I posted about that performance for days. I was deeply moved and genuinely proud of the poetry and artistry he displayed in making the message so clear. I felt seen. I felt heard. For many of us, it was a healing performance.

And yet, I have never actually listened to Kendrick Lamar. I have heard small clips of his music here and there, but I have never turned him on my radio. The reason is because his music often contains foul language, and my faith struggles to embrace that. I think of the Scripture that says, “Let no corrupt communication come out of your mouth.” But during the halftime show, he kept everything clean, and I was able to enjoy it without feeling that my faith was being disturbed.

Still, I sometimes ask myself: How does God feel about me celebrating artists who typically do not use their music—or their gift—to glorify the One who gave His life for me? In fact, some of their work is openly antithetical to what the Bible teaches. Am I suspending my faith in order to value activism that shines a light on the sins still gripping my beloved country? Is activism more important than glorifying God?

I have heard of Bad Bunny as well, but I have never listened to his music either. On the night of the Super Bowl, we started watching the halftime show, but we had to turn it off because some of the dancing was too revealing for our children to watch. As a rule, my husband and I believe that if there is something our children cannot watch, then we cannot watch it either. We want to live by example before our kids, rather than saying, “Do as I say, not as I do.” That kind of consistency helps raise children with a clear understanding of how our faith should shape every area of our lives.

The next day, however, I searched for clips of the performance so I could understand the message, and I was struck by how powerfully he demonstrated e pluribus unum,—especially in the final part of the show. He called out the names of countries across Central and South America, the Caribbean, Puerto Rico, Canada, America, and others, and then declared, “God Bless America.” This was his way of saying that America belongs to all of us. With all the pain immigrants are currently experiencing through ICE, it felt like a rallying cry—a reminder that we are all human, and that all of our ancestors fought in some way to build this country.

And yet, woven into that message were dancers who repeatedly turned their behinds toward the camera—sometimes literally revealing their undergarments—as if exposing themselves somehow made the message clearer about the equality of all people. I found myself asking, Was that even necessary?

I have been researching Bad Bunny and have learned that he is, in many ways, an incredible humanitarian. He works hard to use his money and platform to address poverty, support troubled youth, and confront discrimination against immigrant and marginalized populations. However, he does not always use his influence for the good of humanity. Consider some of these lyrics:

I thought I had already forgotten you, heh
But they played the song, heh, heh, heh
That we sang very drunk
That we danced very drunk
We kissed each other very drunk…

How can we forget the times we had sex in the car?
Where do I go alone?

I won’t share more. His music has a beat that makes you want to dance, and he is arguably one of the most popular artists in the world right now. He performs entirely in Spanish as a way of honoring his heritage and unapologetically asserting his identity—almost forcing the world to acknowledge and accept who he is. In that sense, there is a powerful form of activism in what he represents.

And yet, at the same time, he is also promoting values and behaviors that my faith cannot affirm. This leaves me wrestling with an uncomfortable question: Do I celebrate him simply because his activism feels so necessary in this moment in history? And if I do, what message does that send to my children—or to the world—about what God’s standard truly is?

How do I honor the justice-centered messages of Kendrick Lamar, while also being expected to overlook lyrics like these?

You say your man is dope? I think he’s smokin’ it, homie
Why you provokin’ it? Don’t mean to boast a bit
But you can call me a fly, ’cause your boy be on some sh-t
Plus I’m fly, so all the girlies think I’m the sh-t
I got it to spend, but still never buy ’em sh-t
You better guard your b-tch
‘Cause all it takes is a finger to turn her on, holmes
Somethin’ like a light switch

These schizophrenic emotions feel like they are constantly warring with the Spirit who lives in me. On one hand, I am exhausted—tired of fighting against racism and White supremacy in this country. Sometimes I become so desperate for someone to speak to our struggle that I momentarily forget who I represent.

And then there is the still, small voice reminding me to look to God, not to man, to fight these battles. I hear the Spirit calling me back—especially when I think about my children, and most of all my sons, whom my husband and I are raising to be men of God. We want them to govern themselves with integrity, to honor women, and to respect their bodies, so that they will be whole and healed men when God blesses them with a wife.

But if they see me celebrating men who refer to women as disposable objects—women they can sleep with whenever and wherever they want—won’t they become confused? How do I honor the message these artists are communicating, while also being honest about how damaging their music can be for our young people, and for all of us?

And then I wonder: should I go watch the Jim Crow halftime show as a way to “stand up for Jesus”? Or is White supremacist segregation just as diabolical as artists who use their music to elevate messages that offend the heart of God?

To be in the world, but not of it, is incredibly difficult.

In the midst of my confusion, God reminds me of the story of the talking donkey. Even though the donkey was being used in an attempt to curse God’s people, the Lord ultimately caused it to speak a message that saved them. God can use anything to speak His truth—even a misbehaving bunny and a little K.Dot.

But as followers of Christ, we must be clear-eyed about where these artists fall short, while still recognizing the messages that can spark conviction, awaken conscience, and move our nation toward the kind of change that can truly heal our land.