Kurtis Walker, also known as hip-hop pioneer Kurtis Blow, is founder of both the Hip Hop Church and Hip Hop eMass. "It's not that I'm trying to bring hip-hop into the church," says Walker. "I'm trying to bring God into hip-hop."
On an average Thursday evening in Harlem one could almost miss the Greater Hood Memorial Zion AME Church -- it's tucked away on a nondescript block with hardly any foot traffic.
Yet, what makes Greater Hood stand out is the scores of teens milling about on its steps -- lounging around, sipping soft drinks and waiting for church services to begin.
That's right, church!
Greater Hood has been the site of the Hip Hop Church for about six months and the service is certainly reflective. As one walks over Greater Hood's worn burgundy carpets and into the wood-paneled sanctuary, there are dozens of teens dressed in hoodies and jeans, doing the chicken noodle soup and free-styling at the altar.
The teens lead the prayers over popular backbeats (including The Game's "One Blood" and Cam'ron's "Touch It Or Not" -- changing the words to be more appropriate for the venue); the offering is taken during Jim Jones' "We Fly High" -- with shouts of "Ballin'!" coming from the amped crowd.
To some it's a bit disconcerting -- is this church or the club? Throw your hands in the air, to be sure. But this certainly ain't grand mama's house of worship.
All of this makes perfect sense to old-school legend and founder of the Hip Hop Church, Kurtis Blow (who now goes by Kurtis Walker).
"When you go to a rap concert, you see Jay Z on stage, you scream your loudest," says Walker. "You see 50 Cent up there; you're losing your mind. But when you go to church, why can't we have that same intensity? I know that God is most incredible. So why don't we give him that same praise?"
With a generation more familiar with Kanye West's "Jesus Walks" than the Bible's shortest verse, "Jesus wept" -- it seems appropriate that the spirit of hip-hop is making strong inroads into today's church world.
Not only is gospel music becoming more secular by incorporating the beats and vernacular of hip-hop into its music, first made popular by Kirk Franklin's groundbreaking single "Stomp," which flooded urban radio, but there now exists a thriving genre of hip-hop being dedicated to the Lord.
The teens lead the prayers over popular backbeats (including The Game's "One Blood" and Cam'ron's "Touch It Or Not" -- changing the words to be more appropriate for the venue); the offering is taken during Jim Jones' "We Fly High" -- with shouts of "Ballin'!" coming from the amped crowd.
To some it's a bit disconcerting -- is this church or the club? Throw your hands in the air, to be sure. But this certainly ain't grand mama's house of worship.
All of this makes perfect sense to old-school legend and founder of the Hip Hop Church, Kurtis Blow (who now goes by Kurtis Walker).
"When you go to a rap concert, you see Jay Z on stage, you scream your loudest," says Walker. "You see 50 Cent up there; you're losing your mind. But when you go to church, why can't we have that same intensity? I know that God is most incredible. So why don't we give him that same praise?"
With a generation more familiar with Kanye West's "Jesus Walks" than the Bible's shortest verse, "Jesus wept" -- it seems appropriate that the spirit of hip-hop is making strong inroads into today's church world.
Not only is gospel music becoming more secular by incorporating the beats and vernacular of hip-hop into its music, first made popular by Kirk Franklin's groundbreaking single "Stomp," which flooded urban radio, but there now exists a thriving genre of hip-hop being dedicated to the Lord.
There are no hard numbers on how many hip-hop churches or services exist in the nation today, but increasingly, more Christian denominations from AME to Baptists to Episcopalians, Methodists and Seventh Day Adventists are reaching out to their young people by Rapping for God, Crunkin' for Christ or just plain ole Holy Hip-Hop. From Houston to the South Bronx where hip-hop itself originated, the youth (and those who love them) are taking that old boom bap to the sanctuary.
"I always knew that there was an incredible amount of spirituality that went into hip-hop," explains Walker, who officiates the weekly hip-hop church service at Greater Hood and travels the country leading similar services elsewhere. "We call it a musical youth ministry, so we're trying to reach the kids and teach them about Jesus and the Bible and God in a language that they understand.
"Jesus, when he was around and walking in the flesh, he was a teacher and a preacher," Walker continues. "And he analyzed his audience. Like if he was with the farmers, he told stories about sowing the seed, and building your house on solid rock. And this is what we're doing today with the hip hop church."
"I always knew that there was an incredible amount of spirituality that went into hip-hop," explains Walker, who officiates the weekly hip-hop church service at Greater Hood and travels the country leading similar services elsewhere. "We call it a musical youth ministry, so we're trying to reach the kids and teach them about Jesus and the Bible and God in a language that they understand.
"Jesus, when he was around and walking in the flesh, he was a teacher and a preacher," Walker continues. "And he analyzed his audience. Like if he was with the farmers, he told stories about sowing the seed, and building your house on solid rock. And this is what we're doing today with the hip hop church."
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