“Maybe it’s not too late, to learn how to love and forget how to hate.” —Ozzy Osbourne, “Crazy Train” (1980)
Those lyrics never sounded like they came from the Prince of Darkness—they’d feel more at home in a non-denominational worship service.
John Michael “Ozzy” Osbourne passed away, July 22, 2025, at the age of 76—just seventeen days after what would become his final public performance. And while the headlines will inevitably revisit the bat, the bans, and the black eyeliner, those of us who came up inside music—especially Christian music—should know the truth is deeper.
Ozzy was the godfather of heavy metal. Period. Without him, the genre as we know it doesn’t exist. That means no Sabbath. No Slayer. But it also means no Stryper. No Skillet. No Demon Hunter. And in the words of Heaven’s Metal Magazine founder Doug Van Pelt:
“Ozzy was the godfather of heavy metal. Like members of the mafia in the movies, it’s interesting to note how soberly some of these characters looked at God and morality. Black Sabbath, the legion of bands that they inspired, and his solo career, wore a confusing veneer of ‘evil’ that was easy to react to from the surface. As in one of those funeral scenes from a mobster film, we pause now to reflect on the family he’s left behind. We bless them in the Name of Jesus and we show kindness to those grieving. When we do this, we might show the attractiveness and power of God’s love.”
That should be the tone today— grateful, introspective, and unapologetically rock ’n’ roll.
Ozzy’s fingerprints reach even further into the Christian rock landscape than most fans realize. Like many kids of his generation, he was raised in the Church of England, and that early foundation stuck with him. “I believe in God,” he once said. “I don’t go to church, but I don’t think you have to go to church to believe in God” (Men’s Journal). In another interview, he reflected, “I’m a Christian. I was christened as a Christian. I used to go to Sunday school” (The Guardian). He often referred to Jesus as “the original rock ’n’ roll star,” These were off-the-cuff remarks from a man who, despite everything, still acknowledged something bigger than himself.
His lyrics reflected that messiness—especially in Sabbath’s “After Forever,” which included lines like:
“I have seen the truth, yes, I’ve seen the light, and I’ve changed my ways. And I’ll be prepared when you’re lonely and scared at the end of our days.” (Black Sabbath, 1971)
Stryper, the original Christian metal band, covered that song in 2015 without altering a word. And when Ozzy passed, frontman Michael Sweet posted that same lyric with this simple statement:
“I believe he believed. God bless you, Ozzy.”
Ozzy’s legacy also shaped how Christian bands were seen by the mainstream. In the early 2000s, his son Jack Osbourne helped book and push artists for Ozzfest. That tour became a launching pad for San Diego’s own P.O.D.—a band that openly proclaimed Christ on massive stages, thanks in part to the Osbourne family. Millions saw them at Ozzfest, and that visibility mattered.
Ozzy and Sharon Osbourne helped break down the barriers that kept many bands out of mainstream exposure. They championed artists they believed in—regardless of industry hype—and gave them a global stage through Ozzfest. Reflecting on that impact, P.O.D.’s Sonny Sandoval shared: “P.O.D. had the honor of playing Ozzfest twice in the early 2000s. Ozzy and Sharon were always so kind to us, and I pray his legacy is remembered with the same love and generosity he showed to young bands coming up. Metal, rock and roll, nu metal, and countless other genres were shaped by the work he poured into every project.”
For a lot of us Ozzy was never that scary. Millennials didn’t grow up with the bat or the protests—we grew up with MTV’s The Osbournes. A reality show dad, surrounded by family chaos and bleeped-out conversations, yelling at the sky and confused by the operation of a microwave. He was ridiculous. He was real. And somehow, he felt like ours.
I was in London the night Ozzy gave his final performance. My wife and I were actually there for the Oasis reunion— but the energy and black t-shirts were undeniable. Between the Gallagher brothers’ return and Ozzy’s swan song, rock ’n’ roll had returned to the UK in full force. We considered heading up to Birmingham to witness it, but with his appearance scheduled to be brief—and tickets to the hologram-based ABBA Voyage show already purchased (Steve Taylor’s fault!)—we decided to stay in town.
Our flight home the next morning in Nashville was filled with artists who had taken part in Ozzy’s final tribute. They looked exhausted, drained—but you could tell they were floating. They knew they had been part of something very special. That night now carries even more weight—that celebration served as a deeply real and emotional farewell for the artists who took the stage.
Artists across the rock world are reflecting on what Ozzy meant—not just as a performer, but as a presence. Brian “Head” Welch of Korn recalled the early days of their career, when Ozzy and Sharon showed them unexpected kindness behind the scenes. He described those memories as sacred, praying, “Lord thank you for all the experiences we had with Ozzy and for the absolute kindness he and Sharon displayed to Korn over the years, especially the first few months after our debut album came out.” He went on to ask for “waves and waves of your love, mercy, and forgiveness” to wash over Ozzy as he reunites in eternity with late guitarist Randy Rhoads.
Joseph Rojas of Seventh Day Slumber offered a similarly heartfelt reflection, admitting honestly, “I didn’t know where Ozzy stood with the Lord, and I’m not here to pretend I do.” But what he did know, he said, was this: “He had a massive impact on music and inspired a ton of musicians, both Christian and non-Christian. Whether directly or indirectly, what he brought to the table creatively has shaped a lot of what we hear today.”
Today, we extend our prayers and love to the entire Osbourne family.
Ozzy didn’t clean up well, but he gave the world music that dared to wrestle with fear, mortality, God, and grace. He helped build the world Christian rock grew up in—even if he wasn’t trying to.
So today, we remember the man. We recognize the legacy. Mama, he’s coming home.