c. 1999 Religion News Service

UNDATED _ Somebody up there seems to like Kirk Franklin. Not everyone down here does, though.

The controversial gospel singer’s latest release, “The Nu Nation Project,” has sold 1.3 million copies since it came out in September. Franklin recently received Grammy Award nominations in five categories, including best contemporary soul gospel album and song of the year for the single “Lean on Me.”

His Grammy-winning previous effort, 1997’s “God’s Property From Kirk Franklin’s Nu Nation,” is the best-selling gospel album ever, with 2.5 million copies sold. It yielded the crossover hit “Stomp,” the first song by a gospel artist to go into heavy rotation on MTV.

Nonetheless, some hard-liners who believe gospel music belongs in church, not in music videos, have been slow to sing Franklin’s praises. His hip-hop leanings and collaborations with mainstream artists like Salt-N-Pepa’s Cheryl James, who rapped over a Funkadelic groove on “Stomp,” have come under fire from devotees of old-school gospel.”There are a lot of people in the church community who don’t agree with what I do, like incorporating beats and raps and what some people consider more of a secular sound,”said Franklin, 28, checking in by phone from a tour stop in Charlotte, N.C.

Franklin’s music reflects his own eclectic tastes. He listens to everyone from gospel old-timers like Mahalia Jackson and Thomas Dorsey to contemporary R&B artists like Lauryn Hill and D’Angelo. On “The Nu Nation Project,” Franklin embraces soul, R&B, hip-hop and funk, as well as traditional gospel.

“The goal was to create a format that every age and every culture could refer to,” he explained. “We wanted to reach everybody.”

He recruited several high-profile vocalists from different backgrounds to sing on “Lean on Me,” an uplifting ballad that preaches compassion for those who are lonely, homeless or dying. Franklin and his choir, the Family, are joined on the song by R&B heavyweights Mary J. Blige and R. Kelly, rocker Bono of U2 and Christian music star Crystal Lewis.

“I wanted a `We Are the World’ vibe. That was the song God gave me,” Franklin said.

So how does this firm believer in divine inspiration justify working with the likes of R. Kelly, an artist known for sexually explicit, booty-shaking material?

“The first thing is not to try to justify it,” Franklin said. “I work with people because I’m compelled to work with them. There are things about my secular friends that I don’t agree with. But at the same time, how am I ever going to reach them if I don’t fellowship with them?

“When I deal with secular artists, it’s not for financial gain. I’m trying to reach out to lost people. Imagine if a Garth Brooks or a Celine Dion started talking about Christ. Can you imagine what kind of impact that would make? That’s why I affiliate myself with secular artists. As long as I believe that the person I get to know behind closed doors has the same heart I have, then I’ll work with anyone.”

Franklin hardly comes across as a saint in his autobiography, “Church Boy,” published last year. The book traces his life back to its humble roots in Fort Worth, Texas, where Franklin was abandoned by his teen-aged mother. He was raised by his grandmother’s sister, who made sure he attended Baptist church services regularly. She collected aluminum cans for recycling to pay for the piano lessons Franklin started taking when he was 4.

By the time he was a teen-ager, Franklin was leading church choirs. He also was smoking marijuana and struggling with “temptations of the flesh,” as he puts it in “Church Boy.” He became a father, out of wedlock, at 18 to a son named Kerrion. “I’m no better than anybody else,” said Franklin.

He and his wife, Tammy, were married in 1996. Their daughter Kennedy was born the following year. Their family also includes Kerrion and Tammy’s daughter, Carrington, from a previous relationship. They live in Dallas.

“At no time do I want to come across as the new messiah,” Franklin said. “This isn’t about me. I try to represent Jesus. The power is not in the messenger, it’s in the message. For anybody who wants to do this Christian thing for real, it’s a hard job, whether or not you’re in the public eye.”

Franklin is no longer a practicing Baptist, but he tries to practice the Christian values he preaches. He recently donated $250,000, raised through sales of “The Nu Nation Project,” to the National Council of Churches’ Burned Churches Fund for rebuilding torched churches and synagogues.

Franklin is especially interested in getting a positive message across to young people.

“You see what’s going on every day with black kids,” he said. “The lyrical content of some of the music they listen to is very dangerous. I’m trying to reach them where they are.”

To that end, he is planning a series of “Nu Nation” religious conventions next year.

“We’re trying to create a platform for the (Generation) Xers who are down with what we’re down with and believe what we believe,” he said. “We want to bring them together to learn, have fun and laugh.

“Yes, there have been some bad preachers. There have been some bad churches. There have been some bad things that have happened in organized religion. But don’t give up on God just because of the mistakes some of us mortals have made. That’s my message.”

DEA END SOEDER