I Opened the Gateway. Big Mistake.

A conversation about religious indoctrination, religious trauma, catchy worship music, and choosing your own soundtrack.

I have had the same worship song stuck in my head for a week. When I say “stuck in my head,” I mean stuck in my head. I literally have not been able to shake it. I have caught myself randomly humming the tune while chopping vegetables for dinner or singing the lyrics while driving to the grocery store. It just keeps spontaneously showing up.

And let me be very clear—I do not want it there. I am not happy about it.

I have long since left the Church and walked away from the life I once led there—devoted Christian, worship leader, small group participant. I have deconstructed, though that is most definitely a lifelong journey. I’ve had a lot of my own therapy. And now I’ve made it my life’s work to help other people heal from religious trauma.

So, why on earth is a worship song taking up space in my brain? And perhaps more importantly, why should you care? Well, let me tell you how I got here.

How I Got Here…

Over the weekend, I found myself on a weird corner of the internet. I had been scrolling on Instagram when an account tagged in a “stitch incoming” post caught my attention. The handle was @gatewayworship. After I chuckled to myself, reminded of the Schitt’s Creek episode where Alexis starts working as a regional brand ambassador for a trendy fitness company called Elevate that ends up being a cult, curiosity got the better of me and I clicked on the account.

What I found was eerily familiar. Cool, slick marketing. Bands on stages with lights and production that made it look more like a rock concert than a church service. Worship leaders who have reached full-on celebrity status. And then there was the music.

Oh, the music.

Tugging on heartstrings. Swelling orchestration. Dramatic pauses. And lyrics communicating, in subtle and not-so-subtle ways, that you, as a human being, are pretty terrible and fundamentally unworthy, and that God, in his infinite love and mercy, has rescued you from yourself, from sin, and from death.

But in all that flashiness and touring-band-level sound production, something else stood out to me, something I already knew but hadn’t thought about in a long time. The choruses were SO simple. One phrase repeated 4 times, maybe with a little variation, before being repeated again. Melodies that were simple, too. Easy to sing. Easy to join in with after hearing them once. Easy to remember.

And before I knew it, that’s exactly how the chorus of the song “Who Else” got lodged in my brain. For those who are unfamiliar, it goes like this:

Who else is worthy?

Who else is worthy?

There is no one, only You, Jesus

Who else is worthy?

Who else is worthy?

There is no one, only You, Jesus

Not much to it, right? And yet, it has been living rent-free in my head for a week now.

The more I scrolled through the Gateway Worship social media account, the more I noticed the same basic formula in the music over and over…Simplicity. Emotion. Repetition. This isn’t unique to Christian worship music. Consider some of the pop songs that get lodged in our brains. Tunes like “Watermelon Sugar” or “Shake It Off” or “Free Fallin’” or “All You Need Is Love.” Just a few simple words with a simple melody and a little repetition, and suddenly a stadium full of people are singing the same song together. Worship music did not invent this. But it has gotten very, very good at it.

This got me thinking about what happens when that kind of music is paired with an emotionally charged environment. The lights, the sound, the room full of people singing together, the worship leader on stage, the swelling music and lyrics about God, sin, salvation, surrender, and being loved. Preparing for his return. The urgency impressed upon the congregation to get right with God. It can be a powerful experience (though now I would also describe it as emotional manipulation).

There was a time when I would have heard those lyrics and felt something completely different. I would have sung earnestly along with everyone else. I would have believed the words. Maybe I would have raised my hands. Maybe I would have cried. The music, the atmosphere, and the collective experience would have made me feel connected to God and to my faith community.

Now, however, I’m dicing carrots and thinking, “For the love of God, please make it stop!”

The truth is that simple and repetitive music works.

There’s a reason we remember songs long after we’ve heard them. A simple melody, repeated words, and emotion can make something incredibly sticky.

As “Who Else” has been spinning around my head all week, I’ve felt frustrated, annoyed, and honestly kind of violated. This song had latched itself onto me without my consent. I didn’t choose for it to be there. I don’t believe what the lyrics are saying anymore. And yet, it keeps showing up.

There was a time when I would have interpreted that differently. If a worship song kept popping into my head, I might have thought God was trying to tell me something. Maybe there was a message I was supposed to hear. Maybe I needed to pay attention. Now I know that something can pop into my brain without having any deeper spiritual significance.

So I started wondering…what if I started pushing this worship song out of my head with other equally catchy (non-Christian-worship) songs? What if I intentionally and proactively filled my mind with secular tunes that had simple and repetitive lyrics and melodies that talked about all the aspects of the human experience instead of things like God’s omnipotence and omniscience or the doctrine of original sin?

What if I could right the ship, so to speak, with songs about love…loss…relationships…joy…grief…desire…heartbreak…freedom…friendship…sex…getting old…starting over…having fun…being alive…all of the messy, complicated, and beautiful things that make up being a person in this world?

Would it work? I have absolutely no idea. But I’m willing to find out.

So I’m going to make this a little experiment. For the next few weeks, when “Who Else” pops in my head, I’m going to grab my guitar and start singing songs like “Since You’ve Been Gone.” Or maybe “Natural Woman.” Or “Call Me Maybe.” Or “Let It Be.” Hopefully, I will successfully evict this damn Gateway Worship song from my brain after not too long.

At the very least, I will be infusing my days with a little extra dopamine. :-)

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