The 10 Principles of Good Worship Songwriting
“Whether it be the sweeping eagle in his flight, or the open apple-blossom, the toiling work-horse, the blithe swan, the branching oak, the winding stream at its base, the drifting clouds, over all the coursing sun, form ever follows function, and this is the law. Where function does not change, form does not change. The granite rocks, the ever-brooding hills, remain for ages; the lightning lives, comes into shape, and dies, in a twinkling.
It is the pervading law of all things organic and inorganic, of all things physical and metaphysical, of all things human and all things superhuman, of all true manifestations of the head, of the heart, of the soul, that the life is recognizable in its expression, that form ever follows function. This is the law.”
You might be surprised to learn that this rather exquisite text comes from the pen of architect Louis Sullivan in the late 19th century, in an article titled “The Tall Office Building Artistically Considered”.[1]
In Sullivan’s day, innovations in steel manufacture and elevator engineering had literally raised the ceiling for the possible height of new buildings. Many storeys could now be stacked, one on top of the other. And this was exactly what was happening. Architects were stacking multiple floors, each following a different architectural style, leading to garish tiered designs that some referred to as “wedding cake buildings”.[2]
The problem was that the architects were fixated on what had always been done before, rather than the possibilities in front of them. Presented with something new, all they could do was refer to the rules of the past and hope they still worked. This led Sullivan to coin the now-famous phrase: "form follows function." He argued that the beauty of a design comes from its ability to fulfil its purpose, not from obeying a set of aesthetic norms. Eagles, apple blossoms and winding streams all in their own way exemplify a natural law: the things we find most beautiful are the very things that excel at what they do.[3]
This principle—form follows function—has become foundational in design discourse ever since, helping to differentiate design from art. Crudely put, while art exists “for art’s sake,” design serves a purpose beyond itself.
Now, think about how this applies to worship songwriting. Worship songs are created for congregations; they have specific roles—uniting voices, expressing truths, and directing focus toward God. These functions shape how we write our songs: lyrics should be clear, melodies should be singable, and structures should work for communal singing, etc. We write songs to help us praise, to help us confess, to help us lament or learn. We give them to others to play and sing.
This is design!
But as a songwriter it’s all too easy to slip back into the “form follows precedent” mindset of those architects. Worship songs have a certain sound, so mine should have that sound. Worship songs use a certain language, or limit themselves to certain themes, so mine should do the same. Worship songs have necessary structural elements - verse, chorus, bridge, tag etc - therefore mine should include all of them stacked one on top of the other. If we’re not careful, we’re left with wedding cake songs…
So how can we discern “good” songwriting? How could we properly consider the function our songs are trying to fulfil and let that guide our creative process?
The world of design comes to our rescue again. In the 1970s, Dieter Rams was probably the most celebrated designer in the world. Famed for his work with the Braun company, pioneering in design innovation and a striking, simple aesthetic. Over the years he had to frequently ask himself “How do I know if my design is a good design?” So he came up with these ten principles.[4]
1. Good design is innovative
2. Good design makes a product useful
3. Good design is aesthetic
4. Good design makes a product understandable
5. Good design is unobtrusive
6. Good design is honest
7. Good design is long-lasting
8. Good design is thorough down to the last detail
9. Good design is environmentally-friendly
10. Good design is as little design as possible
Now, if we accept that worship songwriting is a kind of design, then these principles could help answer the question: “How do I know if my worship song is a good worship song?”
This is where we return to the click-bait title of the article. You can tell by now these aren’t really my ideas, and they certainly aren’t exhaustive rules. There’s no mention of the great Designer for a start. But in the Old Testament pattern of wisdom that shows that we can learn a lot from the collective experience of the world around us, what happens if we try interpreting Rams' principles in terms relevant to congregational song?
Here’s an attempt.
1. Good Worship Songwriting Adds Something New to the Canon
It doesn’t just repeat or mimic what has gone before. It looks for a gap to fill, a bridge to build, something original to say. It listens to culture, community, church and God. It has something identifiably new – a hook, a melody or a phrase.
2. Good Worship Songwriting Makes a Song Useful
It creates a song which belongs somewhere in our liturgical journey. It articulates something the whole congregation needs to say. It fits the vocal range and intellect of the congregation. It has rhythms and melodies that can be learned, sung and remembered without a score. It can be played well by the musicians available to the church.
3. Good Worship Songwriting Is Beautiful & Compelling
It has a melodic journey and harmonic shape. It balances repetition and innovation, symmetry and surprise. It handles language skilfully, is structurally secure and connects the emotions of words and music. It arrests, engages and makes you want to sing it again. It is beautiful because good songwriting is intrinsically beautiful.
4. Good Worship Songwriting Makes a Song Understandable
It knows what it is trying to say. It has music and words that tell the same story. It marries melodies with the rhythms and cadences of speech. It uses the language and voice of the people, it avoids ambiguity and prizes clarity. It seeks and responds to feedback. It sticks to one story.
5. Good Worship Songwriting Is Unobtrusive
It is written for the congregation, not the writer. It is exhaustively adapted and refined from the initial ideas. It doesn’t innovate for innovation’s sake or serve to showcase the skills of the writer. It draws attention to the subject of the song, not the song itself. It is restrained, leaving room for self-expression by the user.
6. Good Worship Songwriting Is Honest & True
It is sincere, it doesn’t make impossible claims or impose unnecessary emotions. It considers the breadth and complexities of faith and life. It invites a response without manipulation. It speaks from a theologically coherent position. It is careful to be accurate in its use of the Scriptures.
7. Good Worship Songwriting Is Relevant and Timeless
It is not driven by fashion, but it does use a musical and lyrical vernacular that speaks and sings in the culture in which it is written. It is aware of faddish ideas that will quickly date. It understands that deep foundations underpin great innovations. It lets function, not precedent, dictate its form.
8. Good Worship Songwriting Is Thorough to the Last Detail
It works hard and takes time to craft a song that is honed, refined and finished. It ensures that all the content truly belongs and is fully coherent. It shows consistency in metre, rhyme-scheme, structure and repetition. It can explain and defend every word and note that it includes. It murders its darlings.
9. Good Worship Songwriting Cares About Its Place & Community
It is not abstract or dislocated but is for a real community of people. It considers the needs, cultures, experiences and tastes of the community. It contributes to building a lasting community. It ‘works’ with the acoustic space, equipment and musicians available. It shapes itself after its place of origin, it doesn’t impose itself.
10. Good Worship Songwriting Is Just Enough
It knows what it is about and sticks to it. It navigates a journey with only the essential steps and without diversions. It remorselessly prunes words, melodies and whole sections to find its purest and best form. It can be exhaustive in its process but simple in its product. [In Rams’ most famous words:] It is ‘less, but better’[5].
1 Lippincott's Monthly Magazine, March 1896, American Periodicals, p403-406.
2 Ironically, the very next article in the magazine quoted above was titled “The Evolution of the Wedding Cake”.
3 Notice Sullivan is not here advocating innovation for innovation’s sake. In his view, if it works it always works and doesn’t need to change.
4 It’s difficult to track down the original source for these, but they are cited all over the internet!
5 This is my favourite of all, I think. It’s such a helpful principle in writing for a congregation and one I try to apply in life and ministry, too.