The Gospel Empire’s Fall: Lawsuit Reveals CEO Norman Jumpy’s Alleged “Systematic Fraud” That Shattered Maverick City Music

The gospel music world has been struck by a seismic event, a bombshell revelation that threatens to bring down the genre’s most innovative and successful collective in modern history. The group at the epicenter of this crisis is Maverick City Music (MCM), the Grammy-winning collective whose raw, communal worship revolutionized contemporary Christian music. Yet, in a shocking double blow, the two defining voices of the movement, Chandler Moore and Naomi Raine, have simultaneously walked away from the organization, with Moore filing a multi-million-dollar lawsuit against the collective’s powerful CEO, Norman Jumpy.

The allegations contained within Moore’s legal filing are not merely claims of a contractual dispute; they describe an intricate, systematic infrastructure of exploitation allegedly built by Jumpy to control, deceive, and financially drain nearly every artist associated with the collective. The lawsuit paints a picture of betrayal and greed, suggesting that the empire built on anthems of faith and unity may have been sustained by fraud, forged documents, and a cold, calculated philosophy of total control.

From a Shed in Atlanta to Global Stardom

The story of Maverick City Music began in 2019, far from the polished halls of the music industry, in a humble shed in Atlanta. It was a grassroots movement defined by authentic worship, bringing together dozens of artists—many of them young and previously marginalized—to create music that felt human and immediate. The collective’s focus was simple: to help people experience God through honest, powerful music.

This unique, collaborative approach resonated immediately with a global audience. Songs like “Jireh” and “Promises,” led by the unmistakable, emotionally charged vocals of Chandler Moore and Naomi Raine, became global anthems. They were more than just hits; they were cultural shifts, earning Grammy awards and establishing Maverick City Music as the undisputed leader in contemporary worship music. The collective transcended racial and stylistic boundaries, successfully collaborating with major names like Elevation Worship and incorporating dozens of other talented artists, including Dante Bowe, Brandon Lake, Aaron Moses, and Joel Barnes.

Moore and Raine were the foundational pillars, their voices defining the sound that transformed the gospel landscape. Their success was seen as a victory for independent, collaborative artistry. However, according to the lawsuit, the very infrastructure intended to support this artistry was secretly repurposed by CEO Norman Jumpy—who also ran Triable, a related entity—into a machine designed for systematic personal enrichment at the artists’ expense.

The Anatomy of Alleged Fraud

Chandler Moore’s lawsuit has lifted the veil on what he alleges was Jumpy’s sophisticated scheme to steal millions and seize control of the artists’ intellectual property. The allegations are devastatingly comprehensive, suggesting a deep-seated culture of exploitation rather than isolated incidents:

Redirecting Publishing Revenue: The lawsuit claims Jumpy used his position as CEO to systematically redirect publishing revenue—the lifeblood of any songwriter—away from the individual artists and into the coffers of Maverick City Music and Triable. This was allegedly done not just to Chandler Moore, but through a system that could be applied to any artist in the collective.
Forged Signatures and Contracts: Perhaps the most shocking accusation is that Jumpy allegedly forged artists’ signatures on contracts. When Essential Music Publishing (Sony’s Christian division) required documentation to process the changes in publishing rights, Jumpy is alleged to have provided falsified agreements, effectively transferring the artists’ rights to the company without their knowledge or consent. If he allegedly forged the signature of a founding star like Moore, the question instantly arises: whose else did he forge?
Selling Masters Without Consent: Moore’s masters—the original recordings of his music—were allegedly brokered in deals, including one with Sony, without his knowledge or permission. Given that Maverick City Music has released dozens of songs featuring dozens of artists, the lawsuit raises the alarming possibility that countless other masters were sold off without the proper consent of the creators.
Hidden Ownership Stakes: The lawsuit asserts that Jumpy quietly obtained significant ownership stakes in Maverick City Music and Triable while serving as the artists’ manager and CEO, thereby keeping the artists in the dark about who truly owned the music they poured their hearts into creating.
Obstructing Financial Transparency: As CEO, Jumpy allegedly utilized his control to block artists from accessing accurate, comprehensive royalty statements, effectively preventing them from verifying their earnings and uncovering the fraud sooner.

The Chilling Confession: Inevitability and Monopoly

Months before the lawsuit was filed, Norman Jumpy sat for a podcast interview that, with the benefit of hindsight, reads less like a business interview and more like a chilling confession of his true business philosophy. Jumpy openly bragged about building an infrastructure of total control, a monopoly designed to make Maverick City Music “inevitable.”

He pointed to the collective’s massive streaming numbers—claiming MCM outstreams the entire gospel industry combined—and positioned himself as the sole gatekeeper. His statements were brutally candid, revealing a commercial contempt for the very genre he was supposed to champion. He dismissed traditional gospel artists, stating, “nobody wants to hear runs,” and infamously declared that gospel music should “die” because gospel artists were merely products and “revenue streams,” not people or collaborators.

Jumpy’s stated strategy was to consolidate power by hiring away major gospel executives and telling independent artists they were “crazy” to sign anywhere else. He explained his motive was to “assist people who didn’t even know they wanted or needed his assistance”—a clear statement of control masquerading as benevolence. He saw himself as untouchable, even suggesting that one could sue him today and still have to do a deal with him tomorrow, believing that when you bring “emotion” into business, you “always lose.” He never anticipated that the founding voices he empowered would have the courage to defy his perceived inevitability.

The Reckoning: The Domino Effect

The immediate aftermath of the lawsuit was profoundly symbolic. On the very same day Chandler Moore announced his departure and the filing of the lawsuit, Naomi Raine—the other defining co-founder—also announced she was leaving Maverick City Music. Her departure, while not accompanied by a lawsuit, speaks volumes. In her statement, she thanked the “incredible artists” she started the journey with, pointedly omitting any mention of the CEO or the company structure itself, suggesting she, too, realized the organization she helped build was allegedly compromised.

This one lawsuit has now opened the floodgates of scrutiny for every single artist who has passed through the collective. Questions are swirling around previous high-profile departures, such as Dante Bowe. Every Maverick City artist—including successful names like Brandon Lake and Aaron Moses—is now faced with a critical and terrifying question: have they checked their royalty statements? Were their masters sold? Was their publishing redirected?

The colossal streaming revenue Jumpy bragged about, which reaches millions of streams weekly, now comes under intense ethical and legal scrutiny. If publishing was redirected, masters were sold without consent, and ownership stakes were hidden, then where was all that streaming revenue truly going? According to Chandler Moore’s filing, it was allegedly flowing into the pockets of Norman Jumpy and his entities, Triable and Maverick City Music, not the artists who created the life-changing music.

The upcoming Discovery phase of the lawsuit is the moment of truth. The legal process will force Norman Jumpy to produce every contract, every royalty statement, and every financial report related to every artist in the collective. This unprecedented level of transparency is poised to expose the full extent of the alleged fraud, likely opening the door for dozens of other artists to come forward with their own claims. The man who consolidated power and made himself “inevitable” is now facing the law, a system that inevitability does not protect you from.

The fall of Maverick City Music is more than just a legal battle; it is a profound moral crisis for the gospel community. It is a harsh lesson that the purity of art and faith is no shield against the cold, calculated ambitions of commercial greed. The legacy of Maverick City Music—the music that helped millions “experience God”—now hangs in the balance, overshadowed by the devastating claim that its CEO allegedly built his empire by stealing from the very voices that made him successful. The truth is coming, and it promises to shatter the glass house of gospel’s biggest success story.