They Need Me, They Really Need Me...

They need me every hour, most gracious Lord
To lose talent like mine, the team can't afford

They need me, O they need me
Every service they need me
I'll bless them with my presence
Until eternity

I think this bastardized hymn sings in the brain of every worship leader - full-time, part-time, volunteer - it doesn't matter.

I tweeted on Saturday: A first - not scheduled to play or lead worship this Sunday. Not sure I remember how to sit still in church...

I had taken two weeks off and decided to schedule myself off at both campuses for the third Sunday as well. I was returning late in the week and didn't want to have to rush back to leading. I figured I'd just jump on electric guitar at our Lex campus. But then this still small voice cut through my inner song of self-delusion: they don't need you.

Sure they do.

No. They don't.

But I'm just going to play electric guitar. I'm not taking over or anything.

Electric guitar would be nice. But do you really think you need to be there?

Aw, crud.

Too often worship leaders, especially us "professionals," only give up leadership when we're on vacation. It's a disorder called LIDs. "Leadership Insecurity Disorder" makes us think we're indispensable. Don't get me wrong, working towards indispensability should be the goal. But am I indispensable because I work to make the team better, stronger and deeper (musically, relationally and spiritually)? Or because I'm the only one who can quarterback? And don't make me mad, because I'll just leave and take the ball with me.

So figure out a way to take a week off without being gone. The perspective from the pew will recalibrate your leadership.

By the way, the team did great without me. And while not leading or playing guitar in a worship service was a little weird, I think I could get used to it. Once a month. Maybe. (I might not be entirely sanctified in this area yet...)

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What would it take for you to NOT lead/play on in your situation?

What has been your experience when you have delegated leadership?

Leave comments here, or tweet them to me @jonnicol.

Ox Percussion...

...is what we get when the aux percussionist forgets he's, well auxiliary. Big. Strong. And way too much. A Shetland pony could pull this cart. It doesn't need two yoked bovine.

Auxiliary is defined by M-W.com as

a : offering or providing help b : functioning in a subsidiary capacity

Unfortunately, who do we usually assign to auxiliary percussion?
1. The drummer who can't cut it on set, either because of inexperience or sub-par talent.
2. The person who wants to be on the team but can't play an instrument. Can you clap in time? You're in.

Chances are, both people will overplay.

I don't want to just pick on percussionists here. There's an inverse relationship between the skill/experience/maturity of any musician and the amount he or she plays. Great musicians know how to make fewer notes count for more.

I remember the first time I paid attention to a great percussionist at work. I was actually sitting behind him in the choir loft during a worship conference breakout session at a large church. During the demonstration of a ballad, he couldn't have hit a drum or a cymbal more than a dozen times in the whole song. He just sat for bars and bars waiting for the perfect moment to plink finger cymbals together. Then a light hit on the djembe rim. Then some chimes.

He knew his place. And he loved it.

Each instrument and voice, at some point, must take a subservient role - be the understated dot of icing on beautiful cake. In most songs, the aux percussionist will need to take that role.

This Worship Director video from Gateway* is a great example of a master percussionist in action.


Did you notice he doesn't even touch the congas until 2 minutes in to the song?

All this less is more stuff is important - but worship leaders, we need to remember one thing:

They still need a chance to rock out and shine.

So look for songs and sections that can be driven by your aux percussionist. It'll carry him through while he's counting the 88 bars till his next finger cymbal hit.

*by the way - this is one of my new favorite songs. It started its pre-service introduction at my church last week.

Reverse Sound Check

Kent Morris is a rock star. Actually, he's the AV genius behind rock stars. And he was in my neighborhood a month or so ago doing a seminar for Peavey's Sanctuary Series line of sound systems. (Ended up having lunch with him, which was fun. But that's for another blog.)

During the seminar, he suggested we do our sound check backwards. At least - it seemed backwards to me. So that meant it was probably right.

Here's what Kent proposed:

Turn off the wedges. Play through your first song as best as you can, which allows the sound tech to dial in a solid mix. After that, the tech asks, "What's missing? What do you need to keep you on-time and on-pitch?" At that point, we add to the monitors only what's necessary to meet the true need: the basic stuff to keep us on-time and on-pitch.

So we tried it. (My sound guy made me tell the band what we were doing. I didn't blame him...) We played our first song sans monitors and few things happened:
1. We listened to each other. For the first time, ever, I think people in the band were really listening for what the other person was doing.
2. We got a great house mix and a lower stage volume. There was less "more me" - which meant less overall monitor volume.
3. We spent far less time "tweaking" monitors than our usual method.

If this scares you, let me throw a few things at you:
If we're trying to approximate the house mix in our wedges, we're asking too much. Strip it down to what's absolutely necessary to keep us together rhythmically and sonically.

When you take more for yourself on stage - more "me," more piano, more whatever - the more your monitor becomes part of the main mix. Ever heard the backside of a wedge? (Just saying backside of a wedge brings up an unpleasant picture for the sound.)

If our role really is to serve the congregation, we need to put that into practice when it comes to our monitors. And didn't Jesus say something about this backwards sound check?

Walmart Worship, II

After my search for salt, I put the bags in my cart and begin to make the long trek back to the grocery side (where, of course, I parked). Out of the corner of my eye, I saw bundles of firewood on the shelf. Walmart is now selling firewood. With my inner cynic already jacked up from wandering the behemoth, I wanted someone with me so I could deliver cultural commentary on this. I couldn't bring myself to be one of those people that just start making random observations to strangers in public. (No. I blog instead.)

Within a few seconds of passing the seasonal outdoor stuff, I realized, gosh, that's pretty smart. People come in for bug spray, tiki-torches, and citronella and [idea] "hey, let's roast marshmallows tonight!" Or for people getting off I-70 heading for a camping trip at Mohican State Park (I like it there). While getting some last minute supplies, the wife says, "Honey, grab some firewood; it'll save us a stop along the way." This goes against the grain of her Grizzly Adams husband. But he's already succumbed to camping in a pop-up trailer, so why not buy firewood at Walmart?

What's a small item that we can "stock" as a worship team to serve our congregation? Something they might not even realize they want. I'm not talking about buffet-styled, consumer-driven church and worship. But something that makes someone's morning a little better.

• How about making it a practice to meet guests after the service? It shouldn't mean more that someone who sings or plays on stage talks them. But it does.
• Maybe take an extra few minutes of the service to actually teach a new song, versus expecting the congregation to keep up with words and melody they're hearing for the first time.
• What if we created a moment for people to just stop? No singing, no announcements, no message, no pastor praying. Just press pause. Take in. Let out. And open up for what's next.
• What if we didn't do "special music" every week? So when we did do it, we can make it great. And it would be special.

Think about it. What's the "firewood at Walmart" that you could provide?


[and that last question wasn't so much rhetorical. I'd love to have you post your responses]

Walmart Worship, I

I needed softner salt. My town's water can turn a black t-shirt charcoal gray in a single wash. A musician needs to protect his black t-shirts.

My wife needed some spices for something she was making. Two diverse items + one trip = Walmart.  

Crud.

After getting the spices, I made my journey across the retail labyrinth to where I thought the salt should be. First mistake: thinking. I shoulda' asked.

After something that resembled the children of Israel wandering in the desert, I finally found a human with a navy blue shirt and asked him to point me to Sinai, er, softener salt.

The Garden Center. The Garden Center...of course! Wow, I'm dumb. I actually can see my lawn and garden from the basement window next to my water softener, so I can't believe I missed this one.

But seriously, it makes perfect sense for Walmart to stock their salt in the Garden Center. There's plenty of room for Walmart to maneuver the heavy pallets in and out with fork lifts and pallet jacks. The heavy duty shelving made for mulch and fertilizer are also an ideal place for Walmart to put the salt. It all makes sense. For Walmart.

How much do worship teams do for the worship team?

• Let's stick with these songs because we know them.
• Let's do a bunch of new songs because we're bored.
• Let's keep pushing the monitors hotter and hotter because we all need a bit "more me". 
• Let's keep these music stands high and center so we can see the music. We just don't have time to learn the song.

More brutal yet...how much do I, as the leader, do for me?

• This key is far more comfortable for me.
• Let's pursue excellence. (Read: Don't make me look bad)
• We need to do this song, it really moves me.
• Let's just let her sing, because telling her the truth would make her (actually, me) uncomfortable.

The worship team serves the congregation. The leader serves the team. Anything else and we're putting softener salt in the Garden Center.