Bad News

The Worship Ministry at Woodburn Baptist Church presented our Easter musical (The Story) a couple of weeks ago. That's not what the blog post is about, but it is important to the context of what you'll read.

It was a big production. Maybe the largest scale event this church has ever done. We offered three time options, opening room for 1,000 people to attend. (We had nearly 400 at our Christmas musical, which was amazing.)

And it was my first Easter musical as the church's worship pastor.

Starting a few weeks before the big weekend, bad news started rolling in. Some of it was personal. Some was about the production. Some was about people who were hoping to be in the choir. It was a little more bad news than the usual weeks leading up to the 20+ Easter musical events I've led. But it wasn't terrible.

Until the week before. 

On Monday and Tuesday I received not 2, not 3, not even 4, but 5 or 6 major pieces of bad news. People that had key roles in both preparation and presentation of the musical weren't able to keep their commitments. I was reeling. I'd done better than ever in my career at crossing the "T"s and dotting the "I"s, but that didn't seem to matter. 

Bad news, then more bad news, then just a little more on top of that.

Sensing the gravity of my world just days before the event? 

And then it happened. The phone call with the good news. It was really, really good news. It was personal, not professional. And it changed everything.

Everything.

So my thoughts turned to my role as a worship pastor. You may already be connecting the dots in your mind, but if not... here goes.

Every time we rehearse a group of people, someone has probably received a few pieces of bad news in the days leading up to that practice.

Without a doubt, every time we lead a group of people in worship there are a few, or several, or many, or most of those in the room who have been bombarded with bad news.

That's why we have to be people of the Good News.

I don't mean "happy clappy" and fake smiles. I don't mean we should ignore anguish and race to rejoicing. I mean that in the midst of the deep struggles of those we lead it is essential that we remind them: God is not only holy, and powerful, and majestic, and real, and eternal, and relevant... but that He is good.

And His goodness is what He wants for us.

Let me say it another way, if the gospel doesn't sound like good news, it isn't the gospel.

And forgive me if this goes too far, but if your worship services don't sound like good news, you may not be leading Christ-centered worship.

So let's make sure we find sounds and lyrics and images and people that effervesce with joy.  Honest joy. Godly joy. Transforming joy.

Let's be people of the Good News.

A Covering that Rocked My World

In Gary Molander's book, Pursuing Christ. Creating Art. he includes a chapter that has affected me deeply. After just a couple of introductory thoughts, I'll share the entire chapter. (with his permission)

1) This came at a point in my career where I was beginning to see this shift in my approach to ministry. I might have more to say about this in the coming weeks. I'm convinced it is centrally important to invite people to do things in the worship ministry because it serves them, not because it serves me. "Covering" was a nudge further down that path.

2) I have moved steadily and continuously down a path toward valuing people more than production, relationship more than results, and well-being over wow-factor. I have a long way to go.

These words may or may not be what you are expecting, but they helped me so much...

Covering
Gary Molander

I hate the word authority. Honestly, I do.

But I like the idea of someone providing a covering for me. I need a covering or two in my life. I suppose we all do.

In the Scriptures, anyone who has authority over someone else has the charge of providing a covering for them. 

All authority exists - at some level - to cover people.

That's the way God designed authorities in our lives. They cover us from injustice, they protect us from evil people, and they lead us to the wellspring of life. They confront us when we're on a path that's destroying us. They help us become bigger people. They lead us. You know you're under the right covering when you feel safe, a little uncomfortable, and growing.

And the only way we know how important these authoritative coverings are in our lives are when they're removed.

After my parents both passed in the last half of 2010, I was trying to wrap my brain around what my heart was feeling. I missed having them around, but my heart was feeling something far greater than that. There's something extremely sad about picking up the phone to call your mom, then realizing there's no one at the end of that line anymore. But that sadness was a symptom of something more, something deeper.

I discovered that the overwhelming sensation happening in my heart was simple. For the first time in my forty-six years...

I was uncovered.

You know that blanket you used to pull over your head when you were a kid? The blanket that protected you from the evils that only came out at night? With the death of both of my parents, I felt like someone pulled that blanket off. And they did it without my foreknowledge or permission. 

It just happened so quickly.

My parents were no longer on this earth with me. And it took their passing to help me realize just how much they provided a covering for me.

A covering that protected.

A covering that provided me with warmth in the cold. 

A covering that allowed me to try new things, without fear of failure.

A covering that helped me experience the Judeo-Christian God of the Bible as both a father, and a mother. 

You have undoubtedly served a client, a leader or a pastor who has provided this kind of covering for you. But you've also served someone who, rather than covering you, abused you and left you unprotected. They were selfish and blinded. They needed you to get what they wanted, and they quoted the right scripture to get it. 

I think that's why Jesus was so harsh with the Pharisees and the Religious Leaders. They were placed in a position of authority, but they didn't cover. They invited people into their kingdoms, but never offered them an entry key. The people collapsed under the weight of their leaders' expectations, and the leaders continued expecting even more. Their people were not covered.

They were exposed.

I'm left a little out of breath at this point. Somewhere in between the gospels and my own experience of abusive authority figures, I find myself asking...

What kind of covering am I providing my wife, my children, and my workmates?

It's easy to point to abusive authority figures in our own lives, and harbor resentment or bitterness or anger or hostility. That comes naturally for most artists, and it takes an intentional act of forgiveness to get past that stuff.

But we also need to become courageous enough to turn the finger-pointing back around in our own lives.

Do the people we have authority over feel covered, protected, and loved by us? Or are we achieving our own dreams, all the while using them to get there?

I wish I could have told my parents how appreciative I am of the covering they consistently provided. But I honestly didn't realize any of this until it was too late. 

And I have a feeling they're fine with that.