Linchpin or Liability?

When it comes to the worship ministry at your church, are you a linchpin or a liability?

A linchpin is indispensable. Wait, I know. The right answer that’s been drilled in our heads, especially in the church, is this: no one’s indispensible. OK, so the earth might not break its orbit of the sun if you quit the worship team. But would there be a gaping hole and would you be missed for a long, long time? If the answer is yes, then you’re a linchpin. And don’t forget that there are two parts to that question. We’ve all seen people depart who leave a big hole, but weren’t particularly missed.

A linchpin not only does the work, but does it in a way that we want to be around them. To use a quote from a Jack Nicholson movie (that ranks only slightly lower than, “You can’t handle the truth!”), linchpins make us “want to be a better man.” Or woman. If that’s your gender.

On the other side of the spectrum there’s the liability. And a liability is someone who brings the team down either musically or emotionally/spiritually. Unless your team is inordinately dysfunctional, rarely do we have a member who’s both a lousy musician and has a terrible attitude. We often get a not-so-great musician because “he’s such a great person.” His heart outweighs his talents. And, depending on where we’re at in our growth as a team, we’re willing to work with that.

The person who is most often a bona fide liability is the one with the attitude. It might be arrogance. Entitlement. Negativity. Harshness. Whatever it is, talent can only trump toxic for so long.

The problem with the original question, “Are you a linchpin or a liability?” is that a person rarely recognizes himself as such. Most people aren’t intentionally toxic. It’s the default they arrive at after being hurt/wounded/disappointed one too many times.

The linchpin, on the other hand, is intentional. If I’m not intentionally trying to create great art within my team, and if I’m not purposely building others up, then I’m probably not a linchpin.

In truth, I’ve been both. And somewhere in the middle. And that’s where most of us are--sitting somewhere on a long line between indispensible and intolerable.

So forget the original question. Here’s a new one: which way are you moving?




*Want to learn more about being  indispensible, buy Seth’s Godin’s book, Linchpin. (affiliate link)

emotional energy (i.e. actually caring)

I had two restaurant experiences lately.

One was at a pizza chain with my wife and kids. My kids are, well, kids. Our server was, well, not there. I waited tables in college, and even had a short stint in my 30s, so I have a tremendous amount of sympathy, empathy, and forbearance for servers. I try to tip 20% even if the service is so-so.

Here's the run-down of that experience: He took forever to greet us. Took forever to get our drinks. Brought the kids (and I have pre-schoolers) drinks in very large glass cups. Didn't get our bread sticks till 30 seconds before the pizza came. When (surprise!) my son spilled his drink, we had no assistance cleaning it up. Didn't refill the drinks (until asked). And I could go on.

Honestly, I've been there as a server: preoccupied; dominated by the high-maintenance party in the corner; just plain "off."

A few weeks later, my wife I were at Cheddar's. I couldn't decide between two items: Philly cheesesteak or fish tacos. (I know, my wife thinks I'm warped, too.) So I asked the server what she thought. To my surprise, she asked me about me: "How hungry are you?" She got my answer and spent a moment describing that, while delicious, the fish tacos may not fill me up. They were both roughly the same price. She didn't have anything to gain in numbers by pushing one over the other. (btw - I went for the Philly...)

You might think this was the start to a stellar service experience. In truth, our drinks didn't get refilled and it took awhile to get the check. But those things weren't as big an issue. Partly because we didn't have crazy kids climbing all over us. But most significantly, she took time to connect. She put some emotional energy into serving us.

During worship services, can the congregation overlook when things aren't stellar?

Do they feel like we are spending emotional energy to connect with them, to serve them, and to ultimately help them to worship Jesus.

Or are they seeing people "fright-reading" with their faces in the music stands. Or maybe it's the other end: a team completely absorbed in their own music and "moments" that they can't bring others along.

Check, please.