When I was a sophomore in high school, a new teaching was sweeping through youth groups across the country. It was called “The Truth About Rock.” Every Friday night, youth leaders gathered us together to analyze the lyrics of popular Rock & Roll songs. To be honest, I found it fascinating sometimes even entertaining.
I remember one particular example: “Don’t Fear the Reaper” by Blue Öyster Cult. When you actually read the lyrics, it really did sound like the song was encouraging people to commit suicide, just like Romeo and Juliet. Even as a teenager, I thought, “This doesn’t sound good.” There were clearly lyrics in some of those songs that were unhealthy and dangerous.
Then the youth leaders started showing us something they called “backmasking.” They would play certain records backward on a phonograph and claim we could hear demonic messages. At the time, I thought that was a stretch but whether or not I believed it, it added to the hype. And hype spreads fast among teenagers.
For months, this was the topic at every youth service. Then one night, the leaders announced something that would shake our youth group: “Next Friday, we’re having a Rock Music Burning Party.” They encouraged all of us to bring our secular records, albums, and 8-track tapes, and we’d have a bonfire by the river.
Now you need to know something about me at the time I drove a 1970 Ford Ranchero with a pretty impressive sound system, at least by high school standards. And I had collected a nice stash of 8-tracks, both Christian and secular. My favorite Christian artist back then was Dallas Holm, but I also had Chicago, Steely Dan, and a few others that I really enjoyed.
From the moment the burning party was announced, my friends wouldn’t leave me alone. They were relentless. “Eddie, you’re bringing all your secular 8-tracks, right?” It went on for days. I could tell they were more excited about torching my collection than their own.
So, I came up with a plan. One evening, I grabbed a razor blade and carefully sliced off the labels from my 8-tracks both Christian and secular. Then, I swapped the labels. The Christian music got the secular labels, and the secular music wore the Christian ones. When Friday night rolled around, I left my car doors conveniently unlocked.
You can probably guess what happened next. While we all stood by the fire down by the Deschutes River, the other kids raided my Ranchero and proudly tossed my “secular” 8-tracks into the flames. What they didn’t realize was that they were actually burning some of my Christian music. To this day, I can still picture Dallas Holm going up in smoke!
We laughed about it then, and I laugh about it now. But as I look back almost 45 years later—I see that whole season differently.
Here’s what I’ve come to believe: just because someone calls themselves a Christian and writes a song doesn’t automatically make it Christian music. I remember vividly when a very famous secular artist publicly gave his life to Christ. Almost overnight, the same albums that had been declared “unfit” for Christian teenagers suddenly became acceptable. Nothing about the songs had changed only the label. That never sat right with me.
So, do I think some lyrics are harmful? Absolutely. Do I think the majority of secular music can pull you in the wrong direction? Without question. But I also think we can get caught up in labels, hype, and movements without asking the deeper questions: Does this glorify God? Does it feed my spirit? Does it align with His Word?
My only regret from that season? That I didn’t keep those 8-tracks. I’d probably have a collector’s item or two worth some serious money today. But maybe the lesson is more valuable than the tapes:
Don’t let culture, hype, or even well-meaning leaders define your faith for you. Test everything. Hold on to what is good. And don’t burn something God may actually use in your life.