All of you | All of Him

I was privileged to take a small team from our church to a giant national worship conference last fall. It was a great week in lots of ways. Often as much by what we noticed as what we were taught.

And then our church was given the honor of hosting a much smaller regional worship conference just weeks ago.

Both experiences were powerful and transforming. And they were very, very different.

Walking around the first conference, we could just sort of tell if somebody was “somebody.” It’s the fashion, the hair and makeup, the biceps and strategically placed "worship leader tattoos."

Or was it?

'Cause there were people there with those same tats, hair, and clothes that weren't so striking.

I think maybe it’s more about the staggering little phrase in Acts 4:13— “These men had been with Jesus.”

It didn't matter if they were on stage, in the hallway, or in the hotel lobby. I don't want to exaggerate here, but there was a "presence" about them. I think this may be what the Bible means with the word countenance. 

You could just sort of tell... these men and women had been with Jesus. 

I don't mean they did their daily devotion that morning. I mean... they had a habit, a discipline, of "all of me with all of You." Their power was not in their world-class musicianship; it was in their world-changing Savior.

It was harder to see in our local conference, but I believe that's because I know many of these people personally. I already know them as people who have a habit of "all of me with all of You."

I'm inspired. I want to do better at this. Oh, I read my Bible almost every day of the year. I pray every day. But I don't do as well as this "all of me is with all of Jesus" thing. 

Ironically, it's easiest when I'm leading worship. Probably second easiest when I'm preparing to do the same... and then when I'm talking with others about how amazing Jesus is. 

But I don't do it well alone.

My soul thirsts for this, I suppose much like the ancient songwriter's soul did. (Psalm 42:2)

So how about you? When you walk into a room, will people say of you, "She has been with Jesus!"

More importantly, when you walk into a stage, will people be able to see that you have been with Jesus?

It's more than a habit, more than a discipline. Those are simply the tools, the path. It is looking to Him (Ps 34:5). It is drawing near to Him (James 4:8). It is being known by Him (Psalm 139:3). It is delighting in Him (Ps 37:4).

It's all of you with all of Him.

We Need Showy Worship Leaders!

Don't you think so?

The more time I get to spend helping others lead worship, the more I am aware of how desperately we need them to show out.

Not show off.

Show out.

I don't even know if that's a real phrase. But it oughta be.

After all, if we don't let people see what is inside of us--show them--then how will they know we really believe what we say, pray, speak or sing?

My pastor is amazing at this. When he is laughing, we see it in his eyes and his smile and his shaking body. When he is weeping, we see it just the same.

People have been telling me for years, especially when I sing with a large choir, that they can pick me out because it looks like I really mean what I'm singing.

Shouldn't we all be showing out what we feel?

The more I learn about communication--from leadership literature, business leaders, and experience--the more convinced I am.

You've probably heard this. If not, I'm sure you've experienced it:

You are in a conversation with someone who is expressing a profound emotion. Let's pick sorrow. The words say something like "My heart is breaking with yours." The face says, "I'm indifferent."

At a minimum, this is disappointing. At the worst moment it can be infuriating.

Or perhaps a less profound emotion... a sales person is telling you that this product is exactly the solution to all of the challenges you face. But their micro-expressions--what their face says--tell you something else. You'll probably walk away from that "deal."

How much more crucial is this for those of us leading people to the Throne of grace. (Hebrews 4:16)

People: lost people, discouraged people, hopeless people, disenfranchised people, skeptical people, weary people.

To the Throne: the place from which the King of the Universe reigns and draws us to Himself.

Of Grace: Because this King's throne is welcoming, a source of supreme blessing for all of His children.

How can our faces not shine? Our eyes not light up? The corners of our mouth turn up?

Certainly the Psalmist embodied what he wrote: "Those who look to Him are radiant with joy." (Psalm 34:5)

Worship leaders--whether you are playing or singing on stage--let's look to Him. And let's look more and more like Him. And let's look like that's true.

Let's show out!

The Weight of Truth

Do you have a fear of bridges?

Me? Not so much. But there are a couple that have made me nervous—the Ambassador Bridge from Detroit to Windsor rises more than 150 feet above the river. And it’s over a mile long. I admit to being a bit shaky on that one.

My wife on the other hand? Just let her know when it’s over so she can open her eyes.

Why are we afraid of bridges? Well… we aren’t. We’re afraid of what happens if the bridge fails.

I suspect this same fear may be interfering with our relationships. We’re not so much afraid of relationships as we are their failure. The fall. The crash. The devastation.

So what do we do?

Build relationships strong enough that the bridge between you and the person on the other side can bear the weight truth.

It could be that no one is telling you the truth because your relationships are so fragile; they’re afraid to. And it could be that you are afraid to share the truth with some who need to hear it from you because you’ve not built the relational bridge.

About Bridge Building

Some quick notes:

    If you’re married, be careful how strong the bridge gets with people of the opposite gender.

    If you’re an introvert, this will probably be one or two people, but at least one of them should not be in your family.

    If you’re an extrovert, this doesn’t need to be everyone you know, but be careful not to hide in the crowd of your friends.

And some suggestions:

1. Spend time together. Friendship is shared experience. The more experiences you share the stronger your friendship will become.
2. Talk about things that don’t matter. These are the pilings upon which the bridge will eventually be built. 
3. Talk about things that matter. At some point you’ve got to start building. Share a little more vulnerably every few times you are together. Go slow. Give away trust, but in increments. 
4. Ask more questions than you give answers, but don’t withhold yourself. For most of us, our favorite subject is us. Be on the asking side of that equation more often than the volunteering perspective side.
5. Be patient with slow bridge-builders, and encourage them. Some folks have just had too many bridges blown up and they are afraid of what might happen with a new one. Let your grace cover their pace.

Christ-follower, you may be wondering… is this all Biblical?

One verse rings in my mind, Galatians 6:1-3 — “If another believer is overcome by some sin, you who are godly should gently and humbly help that person back onto the right path. And be careful not to fall into the same temptation yourself. Share each other’s burdens, and in this way obey the law of Christ. If you think you are too important to help someone, you are only fooling yourself. You are not that important.”

Still not sure? Google the “one anothers” in the Bible. I think you’ll find the rest of your concerns will melt away as you read them.

Now let’s go shore up some bridges.

Glory Stealers

It was one of the first Sundays of the new year.

Twice I showed my limited humanity, my weakness. One of those times I spent 15 minutes looking for my iPhone, including crawling on the floor while pinging it with my Apple Watch. I could hear it, and brilliantly deduced it must have fallen in a hidden compartment of the old desk in the church copy room. Then one of our deacons chuckled and said, “It’s gotta be in your pocket.”

It was. The other pocket.

Weakness.

Then I was sitting around the table with friends before a rehearsal. I told a story on myself. I can’t remember the story now, less than 24 hours later. I do remember my sweet wife saying something like, “you don’t have to share stories that make yourself look bad.”

And she’s right. I don’t have to.

But I think I should.

And, quite honestly, I think you should too.

You see, as leaders we want to be a part of something powerful. That’s God-ingrained; I’m sure of it. But we also want to make something powerful happen. That’s the enemy; I’m sure of that, too.

In our weakness God is made strong.

And in our strength, the glory of God is stolen.

Yes, I said stolen.

I know this because I do it all the time. I take credit for what God does. I steal His glory.

If I didn’t think you did the same, I wouldn't be so bold with my confession. 

Aren't you glad Paul shared the Father’s answer to prayer with us?

“My power works best in weakness. So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me.” (2 Corinthians 12:9)

Seems to me only one of us gets to be powerful—Christ or me. He won’t step on my desire to act in my power, frail and fleeting as it may be.

I want the same power that raised Jesus from the dead to course through my veins and do the things that matter. Yet I settle for the power that I can wrestle up from education and hard work.

"I want to know Christ and experience the mighty power that raise him from the dead.” (Philippians 3:10) Yet I settle for knowing about Christ and experiencing the power of the gifts more than the giver.

Maybe you do too.

If so, let’s resolve to do better at mutual abiding: Christ in me. Me in Christ.

Christ in you. You in Christ.

Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think. (Ephesians 3:20)