Hip-Hop Groups Take To the Pulpit

By Jonathan Landrum, Jr
Associated Press
December 29, 2006

ATLANTA — Heavy bass beats echo through the church as youngsters rush down the sanctuary aisles. Colorful stage lights spin around overhead as the eager fans start screaming, “JESUS, JESUS, JESUS!”

When the sextet Dem Unknown WarriorZ appears up front, the music and the fans go quiet. Group leader Bennie “Preacha” Foster asks the crowd of about 2,000 to first “give God the praise.” Then the beat returns even louder than before.

This high-energy act that could stand as the headliner at any nightclub is instead performing its own religion-infused version of “crunk” hip-hop at various churches in the Atlanta area.

Fishing for youth

“We’re fishing,” Foster said after the performance at Divine Faith Ministries in suburban Jonesboro. “The bait youngsters are eating is hip-hop. So we take that music, dice it up, we put some Jesus flavor to it and save souls in Jesus’ name. That’s how we do it.”

To its fans, crunk music, with its electronic drums and synthesized brass instruments, generates excitement akin to a religious experience. But the genre–most often associated with R-rated chants by hip-hop artists–is seldom heard in churches.

Crunk became popular through Southern-based producer Lil Jon, who is known for his energetic trademark shouts and hit singles, “Get Low” and “Snap Yo Fingers.”

“I respect Lil Jon as a producer,” Foster said. “But we switch up the message with the thumping beat they recognize. We present ourselves in a hip-hop manner, so youths can have something they can relate to.”

Dem Unknown WarriorZ came together in 2001 through Foster’s NowFaith International Ministries. They came up with the group name when a fan called them Christ’s warriors, who aren’t concerned about receiving recognition for their good deeds.

Their unorthodox approach isn’t always a hit.

With their baggy clothing and long shiny chains, and Foster’s mouth full of gold teeth, the group members are often mistaken for thugs.

After group member Greg Taylor posted a performance of their song “Walls Down” on the Internet video sharing site YouTube in June, their single received more than 23,500 hits–and mostly negative reviews.

Some viewers said they couldn’t bear to watch the entire video after a scene where one person hops off the pulpit, while the entire crowd dances frantically.

“I doubt very seriously that these misguided children are jumping up and down from the joy of the Lord,” one posting read. “I highly suspect it’s the BEAT that’s got them riled up.”

Despite their attention-grabbing style, Foster believes their purpose should be the focus.

“We represent harder than any other person who talks about drugs, sex and money,” he said. “We are born-again, sanctified, delivered in Jesus’ name. Some people have a problem with the way we represent. It’s time for some … Christians to stand up and represent in the industry and the media.”

Rev. Rodney Turner, a Baptist minister in Atlanta who has a traditional outlook, believes bringing crunk into church isn’t right. A pastor for 17 years, he said youngsters can be saved without using worldly tactics.

“Does God need new gimmicks to uplift us? No,” Turner said. “Romans 12:2 says: `Be not conformed to this world, but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind.’ Really, are young people turning from things such as their bad habits and fornication after the show? That’s what it all comes down to.”

6 kids accepting the message

Group member Tracy Brown said his six children have been able to relate better to church because of gospel crunk, and it has given them a positive outlook.

“For me to hear my kids sing the songs and understand, it helps me,” said Brown. “Rather than talking about shooting someone or drugs, I know for my children I want to hear them say something positive.”

The group performs its gospel crunk at least twice a week.

On their own time, the group members’ paths diverge. Taylor, 24, studies religion at Georgia State University. Dice Gamble, 31, focuses on her solo gospel rap career. Tracy Brown, 33, and 45-year-old Anthony Brown are ordained ministers, and Talon Stuart, 32, is an entrepreneur.

Source: chicagotribuine.com