Content taken from Spirit-Filled Singing by Ryanne Molinari, ©2025. Used by permission of Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. At one church I served, the leader regularly programmed a song I found (frankly) annoying. There was nothing unbiblical about it; it just didn’t appeal to me. My fleshly instinct was to refuse to sing, and maybe even grimace a bit to show my distaste. There are two problems with this: (1) It’s petty and selfish; we don’t have to love a song to love its singers. (2) By not singing, I was cutting myself off from the very thing that might increase my love!Once I realized this, I forced myself to sing along. The moment I opened my mouth, I began to feel less critical. I began to soften—if not toward the song, at least toward those singing it. As I joined in, I prayed for those around me, asking the Lord to use this song to help them abide in his love. And guess what? As I sang out of love for God and others, I began to feel that same love more deeply. I even began to move a little to the song, almost enjoying it. As I devoted my breath to the same choruses as the rest of that dear church, I felt my heart tune to the love of Christ even—and perhaps especially—as I sang my least favorite song. Buy on Amazon Jesus laid down his life for us and calls us to love like him, even dying for others (John 15:12–13). If we are unwilling to lay aside our preferences for three minutes once a week to serve others by singing a song we aren’t keen on, we are kidding ourselves if we think we would die for them. If you have the option of attending and serving a biblical church that uses your favorite music, you have the freedom to do so. But if you are unwilling to engage another style of worship, I encourage you to examine yourself: Are you singing (or not singing) out of self-love or sacrificial love? Are you loving your favorite genre or are you loving God, who desires the unity of his people?…Musical worship, though, is not merely about doing what we love but about loving the Lord and our neighbors—those singing beside us. Agapē calls us to look beyond ourselves, to deepen and strengthen our relationships as we sing together.Remember the RootWhat do plants and chords have in common? Roots. Puns aside, both plant and musical roots provide an analogy for how love operates in the Christian life. We’ve already established that love is the firstborn and “root” of the fruit of the Spirit. We have also considered how group music-making can image and increase our love. Now, music theory has a few remarkable things to teach us about love as our root.[1]The Root Provides IdentityIn music theory, the “root” is the note by which a chord is named (C is the root of a C chord, G the root of a G chord, and so on). It is the foundational pitch that gives the chord its identity. This sounds familiar. In John 13:34–35, Jesus says, “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”Like a chord named for its root, we are to be identifiable as Christians because we live out the love of Christ. This is at once a calling and a comfort. It means that we must examine our lives and worship to see whether they are conveying Christlike love. But it also offers this profound consolation: Our deepest identity has already been bestowed on us. We are beloved by and in Christ. It is out of this most precious identity that we sing.Even as believers, it is easy to get caught up in titles, obligations, and ambitions. We must combat this by returning to our root—by remembering that our identity in Christ precedes and supersedes our roles as worship directors and musicians. We are beloved members of Christ’s body and bride first and worship leaders second. The love of God in Christ is our foremost identity.The Root Provides Structure and ClarityThere’s a reason many songs use a similar chord progression:I (tonic)–V–vi–IV–I (tonic). As a very poor guitarist, I appreciate this norm! If we assume our starting chord is the tonic (the chord built on the root of the scale) and want to end our song solidly inthe same key, the middle parts often work themselves out. The root is not just the primary note in a chord; it’s the anchor. The root of a tonic chord provides a point of reference for all other chords and notes. If you play the chord progression above without starting or ending on the tonic chord, it will sound odd. A sense of order will be missing, and the three middle chords will feel random. So it is, too, when we try to worship without the love of Christ constantly behind and before us. The trick to hearing different chords as a harmonious progression is to keep the root or tonic in your mind—mentally tuning to it even when it is not being played.Worship leaders often work more than one job. Even full-time worship leaders have to balance multiple roles and responsibilities: audiovisual coordinator, instrument technician, band leader, choir director, songwriter, arranger—the list goes on and on. As with chord progressions, however, the key to navigating the various aspects of our ministry and worship is the same: Keep the love of Christ always at the forefront of your mind and remember that no aspect of your worship and ministry is beyond the scope of this love. In seasons of seeming chaos, listen intently for the root. The love of Christ prevails and will see you through. He is holding all things together.The Root Provides the EndTo our Western ears, a piece of music is not really finished until it returns to the tonic chord in root position. If you play the chord progression in the previous section, you will hear how the harmonies lean toward the tonic. There is tension until you reach the final chord, which is also the first chord. In the same way, love is the beginning and end of our lives as Christians. Every part of us should yearn toward the love of God like dissonance seeking resolution. Accordingly, godly love—the fruit of the Spirit—must direct every decision we make.While memorizing a Bach prelude, one of my students got lost in the music. Some students would have started over or given up, but she had a firm grasp of an essential principle of music performance: When in doubt, find the root. After some dissonant meandering, her harmonic decisions began to make sense. Remembering that she was in the key of C, she began to emphasize notes that would guide her to the dominant chord (G) and, finally, the tonic chord with a C octave as its root. It was not the path Bach wrote, but she ended in the right place.If you feel directionless or overwhelmed in your life, ministry, or worship, go back to the basics. Remember the root. Our loving Savior does not demand genius or virtuosity, although these can certainly be to his glory. Instead, he simply asks us to use our gifts to love him and his people. This is the goal of our worship. When all else grows complicated, love is the end we must pursue (1 Cor. 14:1).The Root Provides UnityA musical note is actually a collection of frequencies that our ears interpret as a single pitch. I can think of no better image for the fruit of the Spirit as love than this: striking a key on the piano or plucking a guitar string and knowing that within the vibrations we hear are multiple pitches, all singing yet sounding together as one perfectly tuned note.The fruit of the Spirit is not fragmented, as if some of us are peace plants or kindness cacti or faithfulness flowers. Instead, the fruit of the Spirit in our worship should sound forth as a harmonious, unified whole—a cornucopia of inseparable fruits or a pristine nine-voice chord. When we sing with joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control, it should sound—simply and beautifully—like love. [1] Portions of this section first appeared on my website, Ryanne Molinari, “Three WaysMusical Roots Teach Us About Love,” Ryanne Molinari (blog), July 14, 2023, https:// ryannemolinari .com/.

One of my favorite classes in college was Econometrics. Though the class was exceptionally technical, I profoundly enjoyed it because I had an excellent professor. His stated goal for the class was to teach us to discern between statistical truth and statistical lies. As he taught us about R-squared and t-values, multicollinearity, heteroskedasticity, and co-variance, he provided real-world examples of people making these classical errors in statistical analysis to laughable results.Those real-world connections made class meaningful. Suddenly, an arbitrary jumble of numbers on a spreadsheet became a means of discerning truth. It felt as if a light was turning on in a dark room, and I was seeing the world as it actually was.It is not lost on me that some of you have no interest in statistical analysis and you’re about to close your browser on this article. Before you do that, let me assure you there’s a point to all of this. Statistics are confusing and oftentimes misleading. However, there are marks of “true” statistics, and when you know what true statistics look like, you’re less likely to be deceived. As followers of Christ, Jesus encourages similar discernment regarding those who teach us.In Matthew 7, he says:“Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves. You will recognize them by their fruits. Are grapes gathered from thornbushes, or figs from thistles? So, every healthy tree bears good fruit, but the diseased tree bears bad fruit (vv. 15-17).Just as there are marks of true statistics, so too there are marks of true teachers. However, it is easy for us to miss those marks. The church in Thyatira did. Even though they were growing in love, faith, service and patient endurance, they tolerated a false prophet among them. (Rev. 2:18-29) If the church in Thyatira failed to discern false teaching, in humility, we must acknowledge that’s a possibility for us as well. If anything, discernment on true teaching has become even more pressing in our modern world. No longer is it simply pastors and prophets seeking to teach us. Now, would-be cultural prophets are seeking to influence your beliefs every time you log in to your favorite social media platform, turn on your TV, or read the news. Every fact comes with a message. Fruit will prove that message true or false.As I open up my Bible, I find at least six marks of true teaching. While this list is not exhaustive, I hope it can help us discern true and false voices in our lives. True teaching will produce love over fear. In 1 John 4:18, the apostle writes, “there is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.” If the primary fruit of the news you read, watch, or listen to is to stoke fear, it may be factually accurate, but it is not biblically true. True teaching will always turn our eyes to the slaughtered lamb who sits on the throne. He has conquered death. We don’t need to fear the world falling apart, because this world is not our home. We don’t need to fear failure, because he holds us fast. True teaching will put our hope in him.True teaching will encourage righteousness over sin.In Thyatira, Jezebel and her followers were sinning boldly, worshipping idols, and engaging in sexual immorality. Scripture offers many moral imperatives. No true teaching will ever minimize or reject the clear moral teaching of Scripture. Rather, true teaching will trust God’s Word as a faithful guide to the best way to live, and seek to connect biblical imperatives to joy in Christ.True teaching will elevate humility over pride.When the apostle Paul was in conflict with self-labeled super-apostles in Corinth, he notes that he has plenty over which he could boast but chooses not to. Rather, he says he will boast all the more gladly in his weaknesses so the power of Christ might rest upon him. True teaching does not glorify jars of clay; it glorifies the treasure of the Gospel. True teaching will glorify God.True teaching values mercy over achievement.Galatians 1:8 says, “But even if we or an angel from heaven should preach to you a gospel contrary to the one we preached to you, let him be accursed.” Galatians then goes on to teach the Gospel is not a matter of achievement through identity or works. Rather, our value is found in the Son of God who loved us and gave himself up for us. False teaching tells you that you aren’t enough and need to seize an identity through your effort or a social marker outside of Jesus. True teaching tells you Jesus is enough, and you can never do more than what he has done for you.True teaching pursues Godly wealth over earthly wealth.Whether it was Jesus during his teaching ministry (Luke 18:18-29), Paul refuting the super-apostles (2 Cor. 6:4-10), or the resurrected Jesus encouraging his church (Rev. 2:9), followers of Christ are consistently taught to discount earthly wealth in favor of our eternal inheritance. Jesus did not live a comfortable life; he did not die peacefully at a ripe old age in a manor house by the sea surrounded by three generations of loving family. He had no place to lay his head. People hated him, insulted him, disputed with him, and plotted to kill him. He died outside the gates, stripped bare, humiliated, and tortured until his body failed. He didn’t accumulate his wealth in bigger barns in this life. Rather, for the joy that was set before him, he endured the cross, despising the shame. Jesus may provide us comfort, healing or wealth at one point or another in this life, but if he does, those gifts are not guaranteed, and they are not the end for which we were meant. Any teacher or social media influencer who is training you to love earthly treasure more than heavenly treasure is leading your heart away from the way of our King.True teaching promotes character before competency.True teaching is certainly not opposed to competency. It’s safe to say Jesus is a competent teacher. So too were the apostles. However, competency is not the only mark of a true teacher. When Jesus confronts the Pharisees over their teaching in Matthew 23, he does not simply criticize their exegesis. He is at least as concerned about their way of living as he is about their way of teaching.The voices that influence us most must do more than say beautiful things. They should be from people who live beautiful lives. We should find the people whose speech and actions are filled with love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control, and learn from them.God gives us marks of true teaching to guard us as we walk through this life. Do you remember the old children’s story, “Little Red Riding Hood”? In the various, odd, and occasionally grotesque versions of the story, there is always a wolf pretending to be Red’s grandma. As Red comes closer to “Granny,” she spots some marks that are off. “What big ears you have!” “What big eyes you have!” “What a big mouth you have!” Red was a bit slow, but in the end, she figured it out. The wolf was not her grandma.The story is absurd, but are our stories any less absurd? The apostle Peter warns us, “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.” (1 Pet. 5:8) Can you recognize his attack on your soul?Take Time to ReflectConsider the voices that are most prominent in your life: What influencers do you listen to most? What news do you most often read or watch? Whose feedback has the power to change what you do? Which preachers do you listen to on Sunday or throughout the week?After you have spent time sitting under these teachings, what is the fruit? Are you more loving, righteous, humble, merciful, and boldly pursuing eternity? The voices that produce such biblical fruit should be maximized in our lives. Conversely, are you fearful, sinful, prideful, striving, and obsessed with what you don’t have? Voices that produce such fruit need to be minimized or eliminated. May Jesus’ voice become ever louder in your life, and the voices that lead you astray quieter and more distant.

Yeah, I know how it sounds. I believe a man came into our world, died for us, and three days later rose from the dead to save us. If that doesn’t strike you as a wild claim, you might need to reevaluate what you believe.It has to be wild. If it were ordinary, then why would it require a supernatural power to pull it off? The very impossibility of it points to something beyond us. That’s the whole point. It works outside our natural order. It must, in a sense, be otherworldly. What in my life led me to believe such a wild claim? Something in my story had to be just as wild for this to not only make sense but to feel like the only thing that could make sense. The claim is radical, but so was the way God met me. EnoughGod met me in my “worth.”I don’t know a single person who doesn’t struggle with worth or identity. When I looked to the world for answers, what I often found was the message: “You are enough.” And while that can bring a measure of comfort or strength, it always felt fragile to me.I began to realize that the world knows we’re longing to feel “enough.” That longing is studied, discussed, and marketed(Brené Brown, Daring Greatly, 29). And this matters because it points to something real. There’s power in acknowledging this longing, especially when we remove our “worth” from our achievements. However, placing our worth in ourselves is no different; like our achievements, we are ungrounded. How could looking deeper into ourselves be the answer? How could I, who continually fails, be the one I’m supposed to look toward to find restoration? It didn’t quite make sense to me. It felt too hollow.When God was brought into the mix, the whole balance began to alter. There was a power unlike anything else, the kind that doesn’t just affirm us, but anchors us. As Galatians 2:20 says, “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” And 1 John 4:16 says, “So we have come to know and to believe the love that God has for us. God is love, and whoever abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him.”His gift of “enoughness” or worth is not merely a feeling; it’s a reflection of who he is, showing up in the world through people, through grace, through truth. It’s his sending Jesus in our place that makes us enough. When we center ourselves in him, everything changes. Our failures, our doubts, and our striving are no longer the measure of our worth. And neither are we. That’s true freedom.VulnerabilityHe met me in my vulnerability.In my life, I’ve encountered fear in many forms and seasons. Often, the response I heard was,“Be brave.” Sometimes I was. Other times, I backed away. There’s something deeply human about bravery, almost as if we instinctively know we were made for it. Across disciplines like entrepreneurship, science, and sociology, a pattern emerges: vulnerability is powerful  (Brown 2006, 43-52). It leads to joy, empathy, and connection. For me, vulnerability became important, even formative. But its weight was heavy. I carried it like something noble but exhausting. It was worth it, yes, but often it felt too heavy to carry, and I found myself trying to avoid it.Then came a shift. Maybe courage and vulnerability aren’t meant to be faced alone? When I began to understand that there is a God who meets us in our weakness and stands in our place, just as Jesus did on the cross, the weight lifted. Suddenly, it wasn’t just about what I could carry. Vulnerability wasn’t just risk anymore; it became an invitation. An invitation for God to work. In 2 Corinthians 12:7-10, Paul openly shares his “thorn in the flesh,” a struggle he pleads with God to remove. Rather than hide, Paul is vulnerable with the church, inviting them into his pain. And God’s response is powerful: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (v. 9). In Mark 5, a woman suffering from bleeding for twelve years reached out to Jesus in desperation. Choosing courage over fear, she touched him, and he affirmed her as “daughter.” Her vulnerability brought healing, and Jesus met her with grace. I began to see vulnerability not as something to resist, but as a place where God meets us. With him, there was a lightness, still difficult, but no longer heavy to bear.Those who allow themselves to be vulnerable often perceive a deeper connection, growth, and resilience (Hartling et al. 2000). Yet, it can also feel burdensome and isolating. On its own, this kind of vulnerability is helpful, but not truly transformative. There is, however, a transformative vulnerability. It’s not just being brave on our own. It’s about understanding that in our moments of weakness, God stands in our place, just as Jesus did on the cross.DespairGod met me in “despair.”Most of us have visited this part of our mind. Some are there right now, and others have yet to go. I think it’s safe to say we will all eventually pass through it. Despair isn’t just sadness; it’s hopelessness. Some sociological studies indicate hope is the answer to hopelessness (Brené Brown, Atlas of the Heart,167). I’ve tried piecing hope together step by step by my own strength. It helped and even lifted me from despair. But for me, it ultimately didn’t hold. Eventually, the idea faltered. Can my hope truly make everything okay? I can only hold up this hope with my bare hands for so long before it collapses under the weight of life’s inevitable pain. There’s power in hope but only if it reflects something greater. Where do we turn for a hope that truly holds, one that is solid and unshakable? In John 16:33, Jesus says, “I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” Psalms 62:5–6 says, “For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be shaken.”Hope belongs in this world, but I can’t hold it alone; I will fail. I needed someone to carry it for me, to promise that, despite life’s brokenness and suffering, there is a hope that stands firm beyond this life. Hope rooted in Christ doesn’t pretend things aren’t hard. It looks right at the pain and still stands. Because Jesus doesn’t just give us hope. He is the foundation of hope. And that’s the kind of hope that can hold, no matter what comes.Worldly answers gave me glimpses but never the full truth. Each pointed me toward something greater: God. Without him, they fall short; with him, they are transformed. The cross restores what is broken and makes everything whole. When I turned to Scripture, I found the complete answer, and it’s the wildest story ever. Inviting God in made everything deeper and better, not because of me, but because Jesus died in my place. He is enough. He carries my vulnerability and upholds my hope. I’ve tried life another way, but the gospel proves powerful every day. These are just a few of the many reasons I believe the wildest story ever told. And it may have to be something you reason with to believe.