Every year, the Super Bowl halftime show sparks conversations, debates, and polarizing reactions. This year was no different with Kendrick Lamar taking the stage. I braced myself for the inevitable wave of criticism, particularly from older audiences who struggle to connect with modern artists. And unfortunately, much of this criticism seems disproportionately aimed at Black artists like Lamar—and rap music in general.
Looking past Lamar’s performance for a moment, it’s worth noting that such criticism actually reveals a significant issue in our culture: we see so many things, music included, through a consumerist lens. Instead of seeing music as an art form that invites us into another person’s experience, we judge it based on what it does for us. We ask, “Does it entertain us? Do we enjoy it? Do we agree with its message?” This mindset is not unique to music, but rather, is deeply embedded in how we interact with everything, even the church. People often evaluate sermons and worship experiences based on how much they “got out” of them rather than if they were challenged or shaped by God’s Word.
Music is not just about being entertained, but also about seeing the world through someone else’s eyes.
Music, like all art, asks us to resist this consumerist approach. It asks us to step outside of ourselves and engage with another person’s reality. It’s not just about being entertained, but also about seeing the world through someone else’s eyes. Music, in its essence, is a deeply communal and relational experience, and when we reduce it to mere personal enjoyment, we strip it of so much depth and meaning. Which brings us back to Lamar’s performance.
Judging with Equal Measure
A common reason people reject rap music is the language or imagery used in its lyrics. And yes, it’s true—some rap lyrics are dehumanizing and contain language that I wouldn’t want my children repeating. However, dismissing an entire genre because of this means missing the deeper context of its songs. Music is often an expression of lived experience, struggle, pain, and sometimes lament. It tells stories that might otherwise go unheard.
With books, we often read narratives about difficult, even brutal realities. When it comes to music, however, we’re quick to dismiss songs that make us uncomfortable. Discomfort, however, can be a powerful teacher. Instead of asking, “Do I want to repeat this song to my kids?,” perhaps we should ask, “What is this song trying to say? What experience is it highlighting? What story does it tell?”
Music has often served as a vehicle for social commentary and change. Folk songs told stories of hardship and triumph. Gospel music emerged from the depths of suffering while carrying the hope of deliverance. Protest songs from the Civil Rights era became anthems of change. Rap continues this tradition, serving as a modern-day storytelling medium that sheds light on social injustice, economic disparity, and the realities of urban life. Rap has always been a genre that demands attention. It forces listeners to confront difficult truths and engage with perspectives they might otherwise ignore.
Many who critique rap music don’t apply the same standard to other genres. There are rock, pop, and country songs with themes and lyrics that I wouldn’t want my kids hearing, yet those songs tend to be more widely accepted. Willie Nelson and Kacey Musgraves openly celebrate marijuana and excessive alcoholism. KISS built their entire brand on sex, partying, and money, with Gene Simmons boasting about sleeping with over 4,000 women. These musicians have glorified sex, drugs, and money for decades, but they are celebrated as rebellious artists and cultural icons. When rappers tell similar stories—often from real-life experiences rather than just fantasy—they’re accused of being bad influences, promoting crime, and lacking artistic value. This proves the bias isn’t about content—it’s about who is telling the story and which culture is being represented.
Even the Bible contains parts that I wouldn’t read to my kids at a young age. The Apostle Paul sometimes used strong language in his letters to drive his points home (Philippians 3:8). David wrote psalms that called for justice, even asking that his enemies’ children be left fatherless and their wives become widows (Psalm 109). The prophet Jeremiah condemned the wickedness of Israel and Judah, likening their unfaithfulness to that of a prostitute (Jeremiah 3:2). Finally, Isaiah used the striking imagery of a garment stained with menstrual blood to describe human righteousness (Isaiah 64:6).
Language can be powerful, and in some cases, even cursing can be less about dehumanizing others and more about expressing deep lament and grief. Such shocking language and imagery doesn’t automatically connote a lack of value. Rather, it could mean that maturity is required to fully grasp their meaning.
The expectation, therefore, that certain artists must present their work in a way that’s “palatable” to mainstream audiences can lead to the removal of cultural authenticity and aesthetic power. Rap, in particular, is a raw and unfiltered form of expression, capturing the realities of life in ways that more polished and sanitized art forms cannot. To dismiss it entirely is to silence voices that need to be heard.
Rap’s Power as Art
Kendrick Lamar’s halftime show exemplified the power of rap as an art form. His song choices, the inclusion of Samuel L. Jackson as a commentator, and the very nature of his performance highlighted how rap is often met with resistance in mainstream America. Ironically, the backlash to his performance only proves his point. The controversy wasn’t just about his performance; it was a reflection of the exact cultural tension that he exposed. People’s criticism revealed that even when rap is at the center of mainstream culture, it’s still treated as an outsider that must conform or be silenced.
Rap, at its best, is poetry. It is storytelling. It is social commentary. Many people don’t even realize that Lamar won a Pulitzer Prize in 2018 for his lyrical and artistic excellence, an acknowledgment that his work is not just music but literature, as well. To see him take the Super Bowl stage was not just about entertainment; it was a cultural moment that should be recognized for its significance.
Kendrick Lamar’s performance is a reminder that we must recognize the broader societal impact of rap. Not only has it shaped fashion, language, and even politics, but rap has played a pivotal role in social justice movements, activism, and cultural identity. From Tupac Shakur’s prophetic reflections on systemic oppression to Lamar’s own modern-day critiques of racial injustice, rap has consistently held up a mirror to society, demanding accountability, amplifying long-ignored voices, and providing a sense of unity among those who resonate with its messages.
A New Way to Listen
Obviously, not everyone needs to enjoy rap music. Musical preference is personal. But we do need to learn how to appreciate art beyond our personal tastes. We should listen not just for a catchy beat but for the message behind the lyrics, as well.
When I watched Kendrick Lamar’s halftime show, I saw an artist who was unafraid to use his platform to challenge narratives and express his experience. He turned the world’s biggest stage into a bold statement about race, artistic freedom, and industry politics. By addressing societal opposition to rap, calling out industry feuds, and featuring Serena Williams as a symbol of empowerment, he redefined what a halftime show could be. More than just entertainment, Lamar’s performance forced a conversation that no one had ever dared to bring to this stage.
And though not everyone will enjoy his music, we all have the opportunity to approach it with an open mind, to listen deeply, and to seek to glimpse the world through the lens of someone else’s reality. This is the invitation offered by all great art—not just to be entertained, but to have our perspectives expanded. The question is, will we accept that invitation?
May we take to heart the words of James, the brother of Jesus, as we strive to reflect Christ in these divisive times: “Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger” (James 1:19).
