The world last week woke up to the news of the passing into glory of the foremost worship leader, Ron Kenoly, who died at the age of 81.

From the late 80s to the 90s, he was a trailblazer, reinventing gospel music and making memorable songs that cut across generations and are still referenced today.

His style of music was studied, scored, and delivered by many choirs because of the message it carried.

He was known for his joyous, choir-backed music that influenced worship generally, especially in Africa.

He was born on the 6th of December, 1944, in Coffeyville, Kansas, and was raised in a family of singers.

He had a passion for music early on and was inspired by Sammy Davis Jr. and Nat King Cole.

He also served in the military from 1965 to 1968, where he played with a cover band called the Mellow Fellows. He was more than a composer, songwriter, and worship leader.

He created an atmosphere for sacred worship with songs that drew many to Christ through anthems like “Lift Him,” “Let Everything That Has Breath,” “Jesus is Alive,” and “Be Exalted.”

His bringing together of instrumentalists was legendary. For example, the bass guitarist Abraham Laboriel Sr. was a joy to watch on the stringed instrument with his groovy, energetic style of playing.

His songs were impactful and serve as a pointer to today’s gospel artistes on the need to be impactful with their worship and not just create noise or be influenced by substances before leading worship. He said he was not a gospel artist but a worship leader.

According to Ron Kenoly, in one of his deliveries, he said, “Worship is not an event, it’s a lifestyle. It’s the continuous acknowledgement of God’s greatness and our dependence on Him.”

In a dispensation where worship could feel exclusive, Ron Kenoly built a global sanctuary. From the grandest cathedral to the most humble living room, his music became a universal passport into God’s presence.

His songs were more than melodies; they were powerful declarations renewing the mind and building up faith. They were tools placed in our hands, giving us the language to express our worship.

He taught us that praise was our weapon, our therapy, and our birthright. His stage was a portrait of the kingdom he sang about: diverse, united, and focused on a single, glorious purpose.

With every “Make a joyful noise!” he empowered the timid singer, permitting our praise to be loud, embodied, and free.

He dismantled the idea that worship was a spectator sport and ushered us all onto the field, into the choir, into the very throne room.