Worship Leaders, Let's Learn from Disney's new movie

I was skeptical.

Even though several people I love and trust said good things about Disney/Pixar's new film "Inside Out," I went into the theater looking for hidden agendas and sociocultural steering. (I know, I'm so weird!)

But I experienced an absolutely delightful, fun, and insightful movie.

And then, as I took time to reflect on the themes of the writers, several things I believe worship leaders should pay attention to emerged.

Without creating a "spoiler alert" I can tell you the moviegoer learns about 5 primary emotions and how they interact inside of head-quarters: joy, sadness, fear, disgust and anger each try to take over the role of "primary" in the life of young Riley.

Joy keeps trying to change the other emotions. She suppresses them. She even ignores them. It's as if she believes joy is the only valid, valued option. Don't get me wrong, she does all of this with joy. It's the only way she can be.

Few emotions are as helpful as fear... as long as we fear the right things. Riley needed to be afraid at times. It was when she feared the wrong things that her other emotions needed to kick in. As with all emotions, fear can take over and become crippling. But fear can also preserve our life. Biblically speaking, fear of God is commanded. When we minimize fear, we risk losing an essential part of who we are. What does this have to do with worship? Simple, actually. If we shouldn't suppress fear in life, we shouldn't suppress it in worship either. If people are afraid but we "play pretend" in church by ignoring that powerful emotion, we make it impossible to help our folks love God with all of who they are. How can we obey God's frequent command to be strong and courageous if we pretend not to struggle with fear?

Few emotions are as avoided as sadness...especially in American church culture. I wonder if this is part of the reason we have so many depressed people in our churches. I know the issue is far more complex than this, but perhaps by not giving expression to sadness we actually create a depressed culture. I'm way out of my league here, but let me come back by saying it is imperative that we allow people to feel sadness in our services. In fact, that's one of the reasons I'm convinced Matt and Beth Redman's song "Blessed Be Your Name" has been so popular in the modern church. It is honest about things like "being found in the desert place."

Few emotions are as neglected as disgust. At least when it comes to what I might call righteous disgust. Oh, we comfortably express disgust by our judgment of those far from God. That emotion is emboldened in pulpit after pulpit and pew after pew. But we fail to express disgust at our real enemy. Or at our own sin. We somehow leave out disgust for the sin inside of the church in favor of feeling disgust at the sin outside the church. Brothers and sisters, this simply cannot be. Apart from providing a time for confession, I have no clue how to integrate this into worship, but I imagine some of my song-writing and script-writing friends could help us here.

Few emotions are out of balance as much as anger. But we need to acknowledge that even anger has a place in our faith. Jesus Himself said "In your anger, do not sin." (Ephesians 4:26) Notice He did not say "In your emotions, be not angry." In the Biblical record, Jesus got angry several times. I believe He was angry at things like addiction, oppression, and favoritism. There is no doubt He was angry at those who hijacked the faith for selfish purposes. He expressed anger at those more concerned with religious practice than with a pure heart.

And, I'm increasingly convinced, few emotions are as essential to worship as authentic joy. I wish I didn't have to use a qualifier, but pretend joy has become prevalent. It is powerless. Indeed, it is counter to our mission. (Inauthenticity always is.) But the joy of the Lord is strength. And the church desperately needs strength. Christian worship should be characterized by joy. I love the way Walter B Knight put it: "Joy is the flag that flies over the castle of our hearts announcing that the King is in residence today."

So what can we learn from "Inside Out"?

Minor spoiler alert: when the emotions all take their proper place, life becomes full for Riley.

So let's learn to be honest in worship, to give time and space to our church families to express their full range of emotions. And to learn that we were made in the image of a mighty God, Who created fear to protect us, sadness to release us, disgust at sin--all sin, anger toward injustice, and joy to strengthen us.

And then maybe, just maybe, we will learn to worship with all of our heart.

A Tribute

We met one of the first Sundays I was at Woodburn Baptist Church. I remember her approach to me as strong, gracious, and friendly. She spoke quickly and purposefully, telling me she was in her late 80s, very much missed her days of playing piano in church, and started playing long before I was born. I think I remember she said she had played in churches for more than 70 years.

Amazing.

One of her first post-worship-service comments was to express her appreciation of the way I helped make many of her favorite hymns come alive, specifically ensuring they would connect with younger generations. There was no doubt about her bias: she loved old hymns. No doubt she played more hymns than I’ve ever heard—and I have a master’s degree in church music. 

Don’t be misled, her passion was not gentile. It was fiery. She loved hymns. She wanted to know if I loved hymns. And she wanted to make sure that I continually pointed people to our heritage of faith through hymns.

But let me quickly add that she was mature enough to understand that, as our pastor often says, every church is only one generation from being extinct. And so she was open to “the new music.” She didn’t always like it, but she assured me it was okay that she didn’t like it. “It isn’t just about me,” she would say.

Amazing.

But as I ponder on why I loved Kathryn Jarboe so much and so quickly, I think this is her legacy to me: she loved me regardless of the music on a given Sunday. She was for me even when she was against a song choice. (She wasn’t real fond of the Casting Crowns remake of “Glorious Day” and told me plainly.)

She compelled me toward thoughtfulness, excellence, and consideration.

Oh, how I long to be that way a few decades from now.

I want to compel younger worship leaders—even when they are old enough to have grandchildren—toward thoughtfulness, excellence and consideration.

Thoughtful in terms of song choice, based on Biblical strength, poetic beauty, and lyrical substance.

Excellent in terms of crafting music and technology. She would remind me that God deserves the best we can muster, not the best we feel like mustering at the moment. The reason she wasn’t fond of the newer “Glorious Day” was because the melody was flat and boring, not near as singable and expressive as the one she knew. That level of excellence. 

And considerate in terms of all 4 or 5 generations present in the room in any given worship gathering. Considerate of the hearing issues that face our oldest adults. Considerate of the desire for passion among our younger adults. Considerate of ways to connect generations.

And above all these, love. She really did love me. And I really did love her.

I don’t think I’ll ever forget our last visit in the hospital. We were both at peace with the fact that she was in her last days. I asked her what she thought the music would be like in heaven. She responded with a joke. We both belly-laughed. I pondered with her about what it would be like to be reunited with her husband. We talked about the things she was learning about Jesus in these finals weeks of her life.

There’s something amazing about a senior saint being ready to go, anticipating heaven. Her time on earth was winding down. She had raised extraordinarily Godly children. She had fought the good fight. She had loved well.

I asked her what she’d like me to tell the church when we gathered to pray that night. She requested they know she was at peace and ready to go to Jesus.

Then she asked me to sing.

Through the tears—mine and hers—I sang:

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,

The clouds be rolled back as a scroll.

The trump shall resound and the Lord shall descend,

Even so, it is well with my soul.

It is well with my soul,

It is well, it is well with my soul.

Her faith is now sight.

Hallelujah!

Critical or Constructive?

Constructive thinking and behavior can build an amazing team.

Critical thinking and behavior can be utterly destructive.

The line between them is sometimes as fine as a frog's hair.

This struck me unexpectedly in a recent rehearsal. I was thinking about someone I used to work with (not on our team at WBC, if you're wondering) who seemed to be able to find a way to criticize everything.

And everyone.

We loved that person anyway, but it sure was hard.

When I think of the countless mentors I've had--in a variety of settings--I remember them as geniuses at analyzing, correcting, instructing, and building, but they were seldom if ever critical. They were always constructive. Building. They built songs, concerts, services, programs.

More than that, they built people.

So I started pondering the difference.

Here are some key differences I've noticed:

Critical                                           Constructive

negative                                          realistic

harsh                                               honest

angry tone                                       gentle tone

depressing                                      inspiring

sad face                                          happy face

off-putting                                       attractional 

defeating                                         victory seeking
value product over people              value people over product
tear down                                        build up

I've decided that I don't want to be critical. I have to be constructive.

And there's something in the scriptures I've been challenged by for years now. I'm not sure exactly how, but I think it speaks into this dynamic:

"Do everything without complaining and arguing,

so that no one can criticize you.

Live clean, innocent lives as children of God,

shining like bright lights in a world

full of crooked and perverse people."

(Phil 2:14-15)

Maybe in a world (and sometimes, in a church-world) of critical people, those who are constructive really do shine like bright lights.

Maybe the more we look like Jesus, the less we complain or argue. Do you remember what comes before these verses in Philippians 2?

Verse 5 says, "You must have the same attitude that Christ Jesus had."

Oh sure, Paul. No problem. How do we do THAT?

I imagine he anticipated the question, thus the words that follow:

Though [Jesus] was God,
   he did not think of equality with God
   as something to cling to.
Instead, he gave up his divine privileges;
   he took the humble position of a slave
   and was born as a human being.
When he appeared in human form,
   he humbled himself in obedience to God
   and died a criminal's death on a cross.
Therefore, God elevated him to the place of highest honor
   and gave him the name above all other names,
that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow
   in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue declare that Jesus Christ is Lord,
   to the glory of God the Father.

So when I lay my life out next to that passage, I see the most flaws when I ask questions like these:
a) Do I lead like I'm in charge, basically taking over the role of my Sovereign Savior?
b) Do I cling to status? Am I spending energy trying to get others to think highly of me?
c) Am I quick to give up privileges like Jesus was?
d) Am I okay with other people treating me like their slave? 
e) Do I humble myself in obedience? No, really? Every day?
f) Who am I elevating? Me or Jesus?
g) In the deep places of my soul, do I want people to bend their knee to me or to the Father?

I guess when I try to connect all these dots, I realize that the less I look like Jesus, the more critical I become. Those times I look increasingly like Jesus, the more constructive I am.

Nobody built people better than Jesus.

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.

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?

Now that hurt!

Her words cut me deeply. They weren't meant to be insulting, I know. But when we sat down in the cafeteria for lunch after the service, I wanted to talk with everyone at our big table, a "10 top." It was noisy. There were many folks stopping by the table to talk with me--people from the worship ministry. The ministry I'm charged to lead. 

This sweet lady and her wheelchair-bound teenage daughter started to leave. I apologized for not getting to spend a few minutes getting to know them. And then she spoke the words that still cut deeply today, more than a year later:

"It's okay. You need to spend time with your music people."

Do you see why her words were wounding?

I don't lead music people in worship. 

Music people--of whom I am one--lead God's people in worship. 

If I don't know the people I'm leading in worship, I can't lead them well. 

And yet I justify myself, "There is so much team building, logistical coordination, spiritual coaching, not to mention just knowing those on the team! How can I lead a team and lead a congregation?"

[Someone else once wanted to justify himself, and Jesus told him the story of the Good Samaritan.]

Honestly, I'm not sure I know how to do this well, but I have a trio of ideas. I'm eager to know what you do, too.

1) Get off the stage. I can't serve the spiritual journey of people I don't know. Individuals. Families. Groups. Even communities. So I need to spend time off the stage and in the rows of seats, meeting people. Then asking them about their story. Rather than retreat to my office or a green room or a huddle of worship leaders, we need to break the huddle and know those we lead.

2) Pastoral Care. My pastor continually encourages me in this direction. When I care for one of the senior adults, I demonstrate that I care for all senior adults. A word of caution--I don't consider this a political calculation. I consider it an extension of Christ-in-me. I think of it as caring for those whom I desire to lead to the throne of grace. They are far more likely to follow me if I love them well.

3) Pray. I need to start each day asking God to provide divine opportunities for me to connect with those in my church. I need to pause each day and ask God to do something magnificent in the lives of folks in my church who are struggling. I need to pause each time I've heard from someone in the church--maybe on the spot--and pray for/with them. And to do this, I need to leave margin in my schedule for this kind of prayerful relationship building.

How do you do this, brothers and sisters? How do you care for the people you lead in worship?

In Other Words: Cross-Generational Worship

In many of our churches there are now 5 distinct generations gathered to worship in the same room. In other words, there's no longer A generation gap, there are MULTIPLE generation gaps.

And sometimes these gaps become massive, gaping holes, over which wars are fought.

Brothers and sisters, this should not be.

One of the things I've started to notice more and more often is how each generation is looking for ways to express the same life-changing truths in ever-changing ways.

This jumped out at me once again recently. On that particular Sunday morning we sang Chris Tomlin's latest "hit," Jesus Loves Me. In order to introduce it to our very inter-generational congregation I paired it with a beautiful congregational setting of the old-school, timeless "Jesus Loves Me." It went really well.

But that's not the part that struck me. The first time I sang Tomlin's new song, I was overcome by the profound nature of the simple phrase, "He is for me." Honestly, overcome isn't strong enough. I was undone. To think that the God who slung stars into space is for me...well, it just astounds me.

And then in a recent Sunday evening service we sang the old hymn, "Have Faith in God." And there it was: "He's on your side."

Same biblical truth. Different generation.

This is part of the beauty and the challenge of cross-generational worship. Every generation wants to learn, know, experience, remember, celebrate, and proclaim Biblical truth in their own way.

And on any given Sunday morning, we have 4 or 5 generations in a service.

What to do?

I don't have all the answers. In fact, I don't have most of the answers. But here are 5 things that have really served our folks well.

1) Repackage hymns. If the melody is singable and the text is accessible, update the harmonies and add modern sounds. We do a repackaged hymn in 90% of our services. This often helps all generations sing in their heart language at the same time. (Click here to read a previous post on the subject, including specific song suggestions.)

2) Use modern hymns. Keith Getty, Stuart Townend, Bob Kauflin and others have been crafting amazing hymns for the modern church. They tend to work well with a rhythm section or a full orchestra. More importantly, they tend to connect with multiple generations.

3) Have multiple generations on the platform leading. When I am standing by a teenager and a grandmother and we lead worship together, we are modeling for the congregation that we can--and should--worship together.

4) Learn new songs. In other words, don't just sing new songs. Help the congregation get familiar enough with the newer songs you introduce that they feel like they can sing it without trying to figure it out. You can't give away what you don't have. If you don't have a song in your mind and heart (by knowing it) then you can't give it to God as an act of worship.

5) Know those you lead. Remember, you are leading people not songs. Pay attention to the way they engage. Do more of what engages them and less of what doesn't. Keep looking for the best songs for YOUR people, which may be different from the songs that are best for MOST people. In our church we sing half a dozen songs that I'm pretty sure very few churches know. But our folks connect their hearts with the heart of God every time we sing them.

One more thought. Let those you are shepherding in on what you're doing. It doesn't have to be a lecture, but with a phrase or a well timed comment, talk about the need each of us has to "own" our faith. Use your own testimony and the testimony of others to describe how that happens with and without singing. One of the lingering learnings I have from a seminary prof seemed like an off-hand comment at the time: "a great teacher's favorite phrase is in other words." So lovingly serve and teach those whom you lead to sing their faith in other words.

I'm curious. What other things do you do that help the generations sing together?