Bigger Than Bono...

I wrote this article for my own worship team's monthly newsletter. Rather than transfer it to the blog, I kept it a PDF so you can distribute it more easily to your own team. Click on the graphic or download the pdf here.

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)

Sloppy Wet Kiss

If you know John Mark McMillan, you know my title.

Last night he performed at Christian Musician Summit in Buffalo. And all of us who knew him were waiting for How He Loves. You've probably heard David Crowder's version, or several other artists who covered him.

The screens projected the words, and when the 2nd verse came up, it said "heaven meets earth like a beautiful kiss." You may have heard "unforeseen" to describe the kiss. But McMillan's original lyrics are "heaven meets earth like a sloppy wet kiss."

One of my team members hates that line. I love it. But I don't fault the other artists or churches for changing that line. I know I'd get quite a few comments at my church if I used that song with those lyrics.

But have you ever been on the receiving end of God's working? A mighty work of God in someone's life sounds great in a "testimony" six months later. Revivals sound almost romantic in the history books. But when the infinite invades the finite, it's not tidy. It's messy. It's sloppy. It's doesn't fit our ideals.

So maybe our worship songs should start to reflect the mess. As long John Mark McMillan is writing them, they will.

"Good Music--I Just Hate Looking at the Worship Team..."

I've been talking to my team, especially my vocalists, about stage presence. Team members from secular backgrounds (bar bands, musical theater, etc) bristle at the thought of infusing worship with the kind of "stage presence" they used in performance settings. My thoroughly 'churched' people just give me blank looks.

To find that middle ground, I'm using the terms "worshipful presence" and "worshipful stage presence." There are probably better terms (and I'd love to hear them), but those seems to connect with both the redeemed rock stars and those who cut their teeth on the back of a church pew.

It'd be easy to point to big worship artists and/or cutting edge churches and say, "See it? That's stage presence." But those artists and churches are a bit removed from most of our Sunday-to-Sunday realities.

Let's look instead at our teaching/preaching pastors:

If a pastor delivers great content with no charisma, how engaged are we?

If a pastor seems nervous and/or lacks confidence, it's a long sermon to endure.

If a pastor looks at his notes 85% of the time, we question his preparation (and wonder if he actually cares that we're listening)

If a pastor lacks energy and passion, how convinced are we that he really believes what he's preaching.

Then why is it OK for us musicians to keep our heads buried in our music stands?

Many of us come from backgrounds that relegate emotion and expression to our friends in the charismatic crowd. But if we really cared about what we are singing and playing, shouldn't it be expressed? (Hence, expressive worship.)

So what's the problem? There are several...

#1: Confidence
Remember that test for which you studied your keister off? Something amazing happened: you effortlessly finished it and said to yourself, "I aced this thing!" I remember that feeling well, because I think it only happened once for me. That feeling I had during the test? Confidence. Confidence comes by consciously doing something (badly at first) enough times until I get competent; then I keep doing it till it becomes almost unconscious or effortless. We don't want to sing or play "unconscious" of the what we singing or playing. But when we don't need to concentrate on the execution, we're freer to focus on the Object of our affection.

Fear is also a factor in confidence. If one of your players fears being in front of a crowd, that will diminish her ability to express herself.

#2: Permission.
Team members aren't waiting for a written decree from their leader that says, "Thou shalt show emotion." But they pick up our subtle withholding of permission. In what ways?


We don't model it. Is it our own fear of expressing emotions? Are we just "naturally reserved" people? Maybe we're not putting in the effort that produces confidence. No matter the reasons, if I don't do it my team won't do it. Important caveat: modeling falls short. We can model expressiveness till Jesus returns, but our band and singers will still have the exuberance of tree bark. And here is the more overt way that we withhold permission: 

We don't encourage it. In my vocational ministry experience, I've only had one person take "expressiveness" too far. Rather than deal with that person directly, I avoided encouraging others to be expressive for fear of perpetuating this person's over-zealousness. Dumb move. So encourage your team to let their faces and bodies express what their heart feels.

But that may be the real issue:

#3: The Heart
Jesus confronts the Pharisees in Matthew 15:  

'These people honor me with their lips,
      but their hearts are far from me.
They worship me in vain...'

There are several ways we worship "in vain". Both begin with a heart that is far from God (which is always a result of some sort of sin). One way is that we simply "go through the motions." We sing. We pray (or at least close our eyes and pretend to). We do the actions of worship with little or any emotion attached. This could be why someone on your team is non-expressive. Another, and more insidious way to worship in vain is using emotional expressiveness to mask our "far from God" heart. We could probably all point to examples of this - in my case, it's as close as the nearest mirror. You too?

The fear of hypocritical worship should not deter us from encouraging our team to be expressive. We just need to shepherd (teach/guide/exhort) our people towards a practice of ongoing confession, repentance and surrender. And that is the beginning of the practical steps towards cultivating expressive worship.

During this year of 2011, I've told my team we're looking at improving three "Big Things". One of those things is Expression. So as I continue make progress (or fail miserably), we'll continue to look at ways to cultivate expression in worship (and ways that might not).

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.

200 Words [or Less] About Being a Worship Musician: Key Elements >> Passionate

(Read the other Six Key Elements articles:
Intro; Talent; Surrendered Part 1; Surrendered Part 2)

 

200 Words [or Less] About Being Worship Musician:
Key Elements >> Passionate

“Passion” seems a little fluffy to be part of the foundation of the six elements, don’t you think? Yeah, it’s important, but passion can be so misguided. The first few episodes of any season of American Idol are great examples of deep desire, deeply deluded. Holy cow, someone should have told those kids they really CAN’T sing before they camped out for three days in Cleveland.

To a hopefully lesser degree, we’ve all encountered misguided passion on our worship teams. [insert your horror story here.] And so passion scares us.

Passion has to be subject to a surrendered heart – both to Jesus and those He’s delegated leadership to – and conjoined with true gifting and talent. And the fervor for music and ministry should always be a subordinate passion. David (as in: giant slayer, king, roof-top voyeur) no doubt had a passion for music. But it was a tool to express love to his True Passion.

Consider the alternative to having passionate musicians: volunteers who happen to play an instrument and are willing ‘sacrifice’ a Sunday or two a month. I just threw up in my mouth.

Passion is worth the risk.