Dear Brandon Lake, Bubba Ain’t as Dumb as You Think

Brandon Lake wants us to think about “Bubba”—the guy who got dragged to church by his wife and doesn’t get all the Christianese. He’s not ready to sing “Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty” yet. Brandon’s conclusion? Maybe we should tone it down for Bubba’s sake. Ease him in. Sing something he can “find himself” in.

Like unchurched Harry in the previous generation, “Bubba” isn’t a new concept for the evangelical world.

To quote Brandon from his recent interview on the show “The Holy Note”:

I think—last thing I’ll say is like, I’d love to see more worship sets, more churches, kind of keep Bubba in mind. Like we call him Bubba, the guy who’s like in the back of the room and he’s like, he got dragged there by his wife. And I just don’t know if, like, when your opening song or the most of your songs have so much Christianese language, I think he has a hard time going like, “can I sing that? Like I’m not there yet.”

I think he hears a (Hard Fought Hallelujah) and I’m not, I’m not saying Hard Fought is the answer, but like, I love like, like when your first song is like, Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty. I think he’s going like, “What does ‘holy’ mean? Like holy crap? what? I don’t know.”

Well, Brandon isn’t as smart as some may take him here, and Bubba ain’t as dumb as you think.

I’ve got news for you: if Bubba doesn’t understand that “holy” doesn’t mean “holy crap”, he probably thinks “hallelujah” is something his granny shouts when the biscuits come out right—and yet that’s your solution to the problem you’ve invented?

Let Bubba watch the whole movie

Imagine inviting someone over who's never seen The Lord of the Rings trilogy but only showing them the trailer because “they aren’t ready for the whole movie.” After all, the movie has strange languages and names and lots of backstories to learn to make sense of what you’re seeing.

That’s what we’re doing to Bubba.

We assume he can’t handle depth. We act like he needs subtitles before Scripture, emotional buzzwords before biblical clarity. But Bubba doesn’t need to be handled with kid gloves. He needs to be shown something so glorious, so weighty, that he’ll sit up and want to learn the names, the language, the context, and the meaning.

He’s not allergic to mystery. He’s starving for majesty.

We’re not helping him by dumbing things down—we’re hurting him by refusing to challenge what he imagines Christianity to be.

Bubba Doesn’t Need a Dumbed-Down God—He Needs a Holy One

Let’s be clear: nobody ever walked into church for the first time expecting it to sound like a Coldplay concert. Even if the church tried to larp (and many sadly do) like Bubba’s favorite band, the truth is that Bubba doesn’t need catchy choruses to change; He needs Christ.

When a man walks into church—even skeptical, even tired—he’s not looking for himself. He’s looking for something bigger. Transcendent. Weighty. And when we open with “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty”, we’re not alienating him. We’re inviting him into heaven’s soundtrack (Rev. 4:8).

That could possibly go over his head, but it certainly is what his soul is made to resonate with.

Worship Isn’t Therapy. It’s Theology.

Brandon says Bubba needs songs where he can “find himself.” But Christian worship isn’t about finding ourselves—it’s about fixing our eyes on Him.

When our worship becomes centered on human accessibility, we make ourselves the measure of God’s worth. But the biblical pattern is the opposite: God reveals Himself, and the people tremble, repent, and worship (Isa. 6:1–5).

You don’t disciple a man by merely putting a mirror in front of him. You disciple him by putting the throne of God before him.

The Church Exists for God—Not Bubba

Here’s where Brandon took a theological turn off the course: he forgets (or has never known) that the primary purpose of the church gathering is doxological, not evangelistic. The Church exists first for the worship of God, then for the equipping of the saints, and finally to reach the world.

Can all of these happen at once? Yes. But let’s not confuse the order of operations. Of course unbelievers are welcome in a church gathering—but they’re not the centerpiece, and their comfort with the messaging isn’t on the agenda.

Which means: Sunday morning isn’t a production for Bubba. It’s a sacred gathering of God’s people around worship through word (that includes singing, reading, and preaching) and sacrament. Bubba should walk in and feel like he doesn’t belong. Because until he bows the knee to Christ, he doesn’t (John 3:3; 1 Cor. 2:14). But when he sees men singing ancient words with unapologetic faith, that just might break through to him.

Bubba’s Not Stupid—But He Might Be Lazy

Here’s a take many don’t want to say out loud: maybe Bubba’s problem isn’t confusion—it’s comfort. Maybe he doesn’t need baby food songs. Maybe he needs to grow up (Heb. 5:12–14).

The early church didn’t shy away from theological density. Neither should we. Let the man wrestle with words like holy and glory and hallelujah. The Spirit can handle the heavy lifting. We’re just called to be faithful.

Men Rise When We Raise the Standard

The church loses men like Bubba not because our worship is too deep—but because it’s too shallow. Men don’t need to be entertained. They need to be challenged. Called up. Given something worth dying for.

You want Bubba to become a spiritual leader? Don’t give him sentimental fluff. Give him a God who’s holy, sovereign, and reigning in majesty.

And for heaven’s sake (and Bubba’s)—don’t apologize for quoting the angels.

Final Word

I’m not here to dunk on Brandon Lake because he’s an easy target (and he definitely is). I can appreciate that he’s written songs that have pointed people to Christ. But when you’ve been given a platform that influences the sounds of Sundays in churches across the world, and your strategy begins with the idea that the church must dumb down her language to match the spiritual ignorance of unbelievers—you’re not helping Bubba, you’re dishonoring God.

The church’s job isn’t to sound more like the culture. It’s to sound more like heaven—and trust the Spirit to do the translating.

Bubba doesn’t need more relatable lyrics. He needs regeneration. Let the church be the church.

Let the worship of God be holy, vertical, and unmistakably other.

And let Bubba behold it—and bow.