Friday, June 26, 2015

Enter at Your Own Risk



I'm leaving Kansas City this morning, having just spent 4 days at the National Worship Leader Conference. I'm reminded of how blessed I am, of how big the world of worship leading is, of how much I don't know, and--most of all--how great God is and how transforming worshiping Him can be.

I'm now one of the veterans in a room like this, sort of an old guy. That changed the way I attended. I hope you can benefit from what I experienced.

Specifically about the word "enter."

I attended the conference. Entering was minimal.

I attended the worship venue. Entering was optional.

I attended in the fringe of the group worshiping. Entering was still optional.

I attended in the middle of the group worshiping. Engagement became nearly unavoidable.

But when I went from attending to entering God's presence, engagement was complete.

Let me unpack just a bit, thinking about some who attend the worship gatherings at our churches.

Attending is not entering.

It was as simple for me as the journey from observing to paying attention to singing. Honestly, I was profoundly reminded of why God is an advocate for singing. (see Psalm 96)

You see, because I was here to learn, I spent a lot of time observing the worship leaders, the technology, and the worshipers. And I did learn some things.

But I didn't encounter Jesus.

Then I started reading the lyrics, and choosing to enter the truth they contain. I started to feel drawn in.

But it wasn't until I started using my own voice to express the words on the screen that I went from observer to enter-er.

It was sort of like being on the sidelines of a baseball game, then the bench, then the field. God beckons us to the field.

As Robert Webber reminded us decades ago, "Worship is not something done to us or for us, but by us."

I know. It's risky. What if I don't sing well? Or what if I sing horribly? Or what if someone else notices me?

Here's the reality--you can't win from the stands. But if you're on the field? There's nothing like knowing you are the victors.

And when we fully enter worship, singing, giving not only our attention but also our affection to God, we will more fully know what it is to be the victors God says we are. (check out Romans 8:37)

Risky? Yes.

Worth it? No doubt.

So go ahead. Enter at your own risk. You won't regret it.

Consider Psalm 100...

Shout with joy to the Lord, all the earth!
     Worship the Lord with gladness.
     Come before him, singing with joy.
Acknowledge that the Lord is God!
     He made us, and we are his.
     We are his people, the sheep of his pasture.
Enter his games with thanksgiving;
     go into his courts with praise.
     Give thanks to him and praise his name.
For the Lord is good
     His unfailing love continues forever,
     and his faithfulness continues to each generation.

Tuesday, June 16, 2015

Should It Be Better...?


A good friend often says to me, "If it can be better, it should be."

I'm not so sure.

My hesitancy may not be what you're thinking. I'd actually say if we can afford to make it better, we should--down to the very last dime of the budget. If we have time to make it better, we should--using every minute of available time. If our people have the skill to do it better, we should keep improving each other.

Money. Time. People. The big three.

By the way, I learned a while back that you can almost always have one of the three, sometimes have two of the three, but it is very difficult to have all three. Of course when you do, the result should be pretty astounding. (Like a major motion picture where they have nearly unlimited funds, create their own timeline and hire the best of the best.)

Can you imagine Bach or Michelangelo or Chris Tomlin or the team at Hillsong having an approach that leaned toward--whatever...it's good enough. We probably don't need to do it any better than that. I can't!

But I think there may be some times when it shouldn't be better. And maybe those giants of Christ-centered creativity would agree.

Let me assure you, my struggle is real. I always want things to be better. Always. Better flow. Better music. Better spoken words. Better technology. Better attitudes--mine and others.

But sometimes I fear we want things to be better at the risk of damaging people, specifically relationships with people. And I may be off base, but I think if the "product" (song, sermon, service, ministry, etc.) gets better and the people get hurt the cost is too high.

That's why I try so hard to call those I lead "higher" while working tirelessly to keep from manipulating them. It's why I set the bar high and extend grace in abundance when we fall short. It's why I sometimes allow rules to become guidelines--people are more important than rules.

After all, isn't that what set Jesus apart from the Pharisees? The religious leaders of the day--and if you're reading this there's a good chance you'd be described by some as a religious leader--they were pretty focused on the rules.

Jesus was focused on the people.

Now to be fair to my friend, who is likely to read this, Jesus always called people to be better. Like most things in the Christian journey, I don't think it is an either-or decision but a both-and tension.

If we have the money in the budget and it isn't taking away from meeting the needs of people, spend it. If we have the time to do it well and not steamroll one of the unpaid servants we lead, go for it. And if a member of the team has the ability and can be stirred on toward higher quality output without breaking their spirit, call 'em higher!

If it can be better--and no one is treated any differently than Jesus would treat them--then it should be.

Absolutely.

What do you think? Am I being too soft?