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Forest Frank’s Award Show Conviction is Commendable, but Not Necessarily a Model for Christians to Follow 

Awards shows have lost their luster. From the Oscars to the Grammys to the Golden Globes, the ceremonies have been hemorrhaging viewership for years. Waning interest is partially a byproduct of the cultural shift away from the legacy entertainment industry toward more individualized content creation. Another undeniable factor is the perception that the shows have become an intolerable showcase of vanity and self-righteousness, defined more by political speeches and moral lectures than by the art they claim to celebrate. Now it appears that even the honorees are eager to skip the events.   

Breakout Christian pop singer Forrest Frank caused a stir by announcing that he will no longer be attending awards shows. In a video posted to TikTok and Instagram, the “Your Way’s Better” singer shared his conviction:

“As a Christian artist, I dress kind of like the world. I kind of look like the world. My music can kind of sound like the world. So, where’s the line in the sand drawn? And I’m convicted, personally, that a line I can draw is that I will not receive a trophy for something that is from Jesus and for Jesus…. I don’t know if I even want to step on the stage. I don’t know if I want to step in the room. And so, I have decided to take a stance of nonparticipation.”    

He concludes the video by declaring, “I hope to be an example to the youth that the trophy is our salvation. The trophy is that my name is listed in the Book of Life, and I get to have eternal life. What good is a piece of metal going to do compared to that?”  

Many Christians have praised the singer’s powerful testimony of putting God above worldly accolades, but not all reactions were positive. In a viral social media post, country music star Jelly Roll wrote, “Won’t receive a trophy for something from Jesus for Jesus but will take the profits from something from Jesus for Jesus. Maybe I’m missing something here lol.”

Frank should follow his personal convictions. The Bible speaks clearly to that (Romans 14:22, Romans 14:5). He is under no moral or spiritual obligation to receive accolades if doing so goes against his conscience. But a valid question is whether Frank’s personal conviction should become a model for the Christian community—and particularly the younger generations—to follow. The answer isn’t simple.   

Yes, Christians are called to be humble. Sinners who understand the depths of their own depravity and the unwarranted grace Christ has extended to us through salvation could hardly be otherwise. Christians should be humble because we have every reason to be. As the apostle Paul declared, if we boast in anything, it is only in Christ’s power made perfect through our own weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9).

Christians should be humble—but what does that look like? Pride is easy to recognize and define. Humility isn’t. Is it merely the absence of pride? Is it a self-deprecating meekness that borders on low self-esteem? Is it refusing to accept worldly accolades? 

One of the most famous—and arguably best—definitions was written by pastor Rick Warren (though it is frequently misattributed to C.S. Lewis): “Humility is not thinking less of yourself. It is thinking of yourself less.”   

As Christians, we can default to expressing humility by lowering ourselves. Think of the Christian athlete who droops his head and points to heaven after a big play, as though God himself orchestrated the home run like a scene out of Angels in the Outfield (William Dear, 1994). There can even be a tendency to equate success with pride, as though the mere act of accomplishing something great is shameful. Perhaps that’s why so much art created by the Christian community has not been defined by excellence. 

C. S. Lewis may not have written the famous quote above, but a passage from Mere Christianity is no less insightful: “Do not imagine that if you meet a really humble man he will be what most people call ‘humble’ nowadays: he will not be a sort of greasy, smarmy person, who is always telling you that, of course, he is nobody. Probably all you will think about him is that he seemed a cheerful, intelligent chap who took a real interest in what you said to him. If you do dislike him it will be because you feel a little envious of anyone who seems to enjoy life so easily. He will not be thinking about humility: he will not be thinking about himself at all.”

When humility is at the center of a conversation, a door opens for pride to seep in. The likely unintended consequence of Frank’s public commitment to humility is that he has arguably put a brighter light on himself than any awards show stage could. A popular artist winning an award is expected; an artist who heroically spurns the award in the name of Jesus becomes a Christian champion worthy of widespread praise.   

If there’s one type of person Christians love to elevate onto a pedestal, it’s those who seek to lower themselves. Frank’s public video about shunning public praise has garnered hundreds of thousands of likes and glowing comments. Even the decision to edit the video to include inspirational music that swells as he shares his conviction can be viewed as presenting himself as an admirable public figure, as if to say, “Isn’t it inspirational and praiseworthy how humble I am choosing to be?”   

To be clear, the point is not to call into question Frank’s sincerity or to impute impure motives. It’s merely that striving for humility is more complicated than we might initially assume. 

The main problem with making Frank’s personal conviction a model for all young Christians to follow is that it’s built on an either/or decision between humility and achievement that implies Christians must choose between heavenly and earthly trophies. Biblically, humility is not about whether to achieve accolades but about how to receive them.

When confronted by self-righteous pharisees, Jesus told a vivid parallel of a wedding feast, saying, “But when you are invited, take the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he will say to you, ‘Friend, move up to a better place.’ Then you will be honored in the presence of all the other guests. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted” (Luke 14:10).

Christ’s story includes a spiritual dimension, but the general principle is clear. Pride is not being exalted and celebrated; pride is exalting and celebrating ourselves. Humility is not skipping the wedding banquet or making sure everyone sees and acknowledges us sitting at the lower table. Rather, true humility begins when humility ceases to be considered at all, when we can experience joy at the banquet regardless of whether we are at the low or high table. What’s more, humility is reaching a point where we no longer see the world through the hierarchical lens of “high and low” tables.  

Forrest Frank’s personal conviction and decision to forego future awards stages is admirable. Our true reward is in heaven, and no earthly trophies or accolades (whether accepted or rejected) can change that. Yet perhaps the message Christians need most is that the more we come to enjoy the banquet feast, the less time we will spend focused on our own positioning and appearance in the room. As Lewis rightly noted, humility is not thinking about our own humility; true humility is being so focused on others that we cease to think of ourselves at all. 

Author

  • Daniel holds a PhD in "Christianity and the Arts" from The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He is the author/co-author of multiple books and he speaks in churches and schools across the country on the topics of Christian worldview, apologetics, creative writing, and the Arts.

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