Hillsong Worship - Here Now (Madness) Lyrics

Video

Here Now (Madness) - Of Dirt And Grace (Live From The Land) - Hillsong UNITED

Meaning & Inspiration

"Love came like madness."

There it is. Four words buried in the middle of this Hillsong Worship track, and they bother me. I keep turning them over, wondering if it’s a brilliant realization or just a reckless poetic choice.

When we talk about the gospel, we usually prefer words like "reason," "logic," or "redemption." We like things that fit into a neat, theological ledger. But "madness"? That’s a volatile word. Madness suggests a lack of restraint, a deviation from the sane, a chaotic departure from the expected.

Literal madness is something we fear. It’s what happens when someone breaks away from the collective consensus of reality. Yet, here, the songwriter is applying that descriptor to the crucifixion. The contrast is sharp: the God of the universe, who supposedly holds time in His hand, decides to pour Himself out—not in a controlled sacrifice, but in what looks like a frantic, irrational spill of blood.

Think about the absurdity of that. If you are the Architect of reality, why would you choose to bleed for a creation that is constantly trying to replace you? If you have all power, why would you trade that for the shame of a cross? By every standard of human intelligence, it’s insane. It doesn’t solve the problem with a strike of lightning; it solves it with an act of self-destruction.

It reminds me of Paul’s writing in 1 Corinthians 1:25: "For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength."

There’s a tension in the word "madness" that I can’t quite shake. When I listen to this, I feel the weight of my own desire to keep things safe and sensible. I want a God who follows the rules of cause and effect. I want a God who makes sense of my suffering in a way that respects my comfort. But "madness" implies that God’s love isn’t interested in my comfort. It is, by all accounts, a love that oversteps boundaries.

Is it a cliché to call it madness? Maybe. It’s easy to romanticize the cross, to sanitize the violence of the event until it’s just a pretty lyric in a pop song. But if I actually pause and let the image sit there—this idea of a God whose love is so irrational that it looks like a psychological break—it’s unsettling. It suggests that if I’m going to follow this God, I have to be willing to look like a fool.

I’m left wondering: if I truly believed that God’s love was this kind of madness, would I still be so concerned with appearing reasonable to the world around me? It’s a messy thought, and I’m not sure I’ve found an answer yet. But it’s definitely more provocative than the typical hymns of order and peace. Sometimes, the most honest way to approach the divine is to acknowledge that we are dealing with something that refuses to be tamed by our logic.