This coming Sunday (May 13^th) is my church’s last Sunday on our campus. After a long legal battle with the Episcopal church, a denomination from which 97% of our congregation voted to separate in early 2007, God has made it clear to us that our congregation of 3,000+ members is being led away from our comfortable surroundings into something that will stretch us and grow us and shake us in more ways than we can imagine. We will vacate this campus by midnight on May 15^th. After that, it will belong to The Falls Church Episcopal.

I’m a sentimental guy, so it will be hard this Sunday to lead worship for the last time in our Main Sanctuary, and to say goodbye to these worship spaces, offices, and classrooms that hold so many good memories for me. I’ve learned a lot (!) here and seen God work in amazing ways. This has been a second home for me. I’ve gotten engaged, married, and had two little girls while working here.

But I’m really excited to be a part of this. Sure, I won’t have a new office until September. And I’ll now be experiencing what so many of you who read this blog experience every Sunday, and that is the joy of worshipping in rental facilities, and setting up and tearing down equipment week after week after week. But in my (almost) eight years I’ve never experienced this level of freedom and joy in our corporate worship, so if moving out of our campus is what it takes for that to happen, then sign me up.

So, my apologies for, yet again, letting things go very quiet around here.

And also, if you think about it, please pray for The Falls Church (Anglican) as we move out next week, and for The Falls Church (Episcopal) that they would faithfully preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ in this place.

On Friday night I watched a fascinating National Geographic documentary on North Korea. Lisa Ling travels there with a camera crew accompanying a Nepalese eye surgeon. He’s allowed in on a humanitarian mission to perform 1,000 cataract surgeries in 10 days.

You might have seen the clips on the news from when Kim Jong Il died this past December. The mass display of mourning and weeping was, literally, unbelievable. This is an entire nation driven by indoctrinated fear to worship its “dear leader” or “great leader” or “supreme leader” or “eternal president”, whomever that may be. This documentary shows this worship up-close, even in the living room of a blind North Korean woman, who dreams of having her blinding cataract removed so she can gaze upon a portrait of the dear leader himself.

The final scenes are breathtaking. Filmed one day after the surgeries, when their eyes have had time to heal, and their eye patches are removed, one-by-one, the North Koreans approach the giant portraits of their dear leader and “eternal president” to, literally, praise him, thank him for healing their eyes, and promise to serve him even better.

I still can’t get past what one woman said. Immediately after having her eye patches removed and realizing she could see again she declared: “Great General, I will work harder at the salt mines to get more salt to bring you more happiness”.

I realized I was watching a worship service. It was unlike the services you or I are a part of every Sunday, but it was unmistakably a worship service. Kim Jong Il was God, the people in the room were his servants, they were there to praise him for what he had done for them, and the goal of it all was to make their dear leader happy. It was dutiful. You could tell they were afraid of him. It felt forced. But it’s what they have to do if they don’t want to get sent to a death camp.

It reminded me of John Piper’s letter to the atheist Michael Prowse who had written in a newspaper article of the absurdity (to him) of Christian worship. Prowse’s main objection was that if a morally perfect God did exist, then he surely wouldn’t demand praise. Isn’t it evil to demand praise?

Yes, if your name is Kim Jong Il. No if your name is God.

Piper wrote:

“…God’s demand for supreme praise is his demand for our supreme happiness. Deep in our hearts we know that we are not made to be made much of. We are made to make much of something great. The best joys are when we forget ourselves, enthralled with greatness. The greatest greatness is God’s. Every good that ever thrilled the heart of man is amplified ten thousand times in God. God is in a class by himself. He is the only being for whom self-exaltation is essential to love. If he ‘humbly’ sent us away from his beauty, suggesting we find our joy in another, we would be ruined.”

He continues:

“…the reason God seeks our praise is not because he won’t be complete until he gets it. He is seeking our praise because we won’t be happy until we give it. This is not arrogance. It is love.”

Our churches are full of people who, whether they realize it or not, think that God needs their worship. And this is why our churches are full of people who don’t enjoy it. Why should they? If it’s all for God and not for them, then why in the world are we singing for 25 minutes? Isn’t one song enough for God? Why should I clap or lift my hands to try to impress God? Why didn’t I just sleep in and run some errands or work on my lawn?

God is not like Kim Jung Il. Or any other “human tyrant puffed up with pride”. We don’t approach God to tell him how much harder we’ll work at the salt mines to bring him more happiness.

We approach God like a deer coming to a stream of water (Psalm 42:1) to drink. We approach God’s throne of grace with confidence because of his son (Hebrews 4:16) to receive mercy and grace to help in time of need. We come to God as his children to the praise of his glorious grace (Ephesians 1:5-6).

As I watched these oppressed, malnourished, terrorized North Koreans approach their wicked dear leader’s portrait to offer him praise and dedication to make him more happy, my heart broke for them. If only they could see, and freely worship, a kind and merciful Redeemer who will save them, love them, and satisfy them.

If only more of our churches could see him too. We may not live in North Korea but we can often be just prone to dutiful, joyless worship as those people in the documentary.

God is not like Kim Jong Il. His demand for our supreme praise is not for his happiness, but for ours. May we pursue joy in God and lead people in that pursuit as well as we can.

The privilege of serving as a worship leader can’t be felt in the degree of fame you achieve. This is vanity and this is celebrity and this is fleeting.

Rather, the privilege of serving as a worship leader can be felt in the moment when you witness a grieving young widow accept the folded flag which had draped the coffin where her husband rests in peace. He had been a secret service agent and had succumbed to a two year battle with cancer. He loved his wife, he loved his 4-year-old son, and he loved Jesus.

No one else in the room could see her tear-stained face except for the man handing her the flag on behalf of a grateful nation. This was a heart-breaking moment. This was when God reminded me of what a privilege it is to be called to do what I do.

We had sung songs about the faithfulness and goodness of God. We had sung about his amazing grace. And we had declared the truth of the gospel that assures us of “no guilt in life and no fear in death…”

Hardly anyone in that room had any idea who in the world I was. And they didn’t care. I didn’t care that they didn’t care. They would all much rather Keith was still alive and they weren’t having to sing these songs under these circumstances.

But God whispered something to me yesterday during that solemn moment. He said to me “this is what I signed you up for”. Not the lights, not the attention, not the fleeting celebrity. But the heavy duty of reminding a broken world, full of grief and cancer and too-young widows of the comfort and hope found only in Jesus.

Literally, we get a front row seat to pain and heartache. And God calls his ministers to be able to see it, experience it, and then within that, help people see the triumphs of God’s grace.

Worship leader: God doesn’t get any glory when you get glory. So don’t be in it for the glory. That’s not a privilege, it’s a travesty. It’s no comfort to a grieving widow.

God gets glory when you serve in humble ministry to the people in your congregation. Sometimes it’s a joy. Sometimes it’s a burden. Other times it’s heart breaking. But that’s ministry. And that’s a privilege.

I’ve written before about the art (it’s not really a science) of choosing the right key for your congregation, so I won’t go into all those details again. You can read this article if you’re wondering what guidelines to follow (generally) to choose congregation-friendly keys. But if you’re not convinced that it matters what key your songs are in, here are some effects that high keys have on a congregation.

They stop singing
They might not all stop singing at once, but they do start dropping off like flies pretty quickly. The brave and enthusiastic will keep on singing. But the people who are on the fence about singing (and you know that every church has them) will stop singing first. Then even the eager will start dropping out because their throats hurt.

They get confused
Here are the questions that start going through the congregation’s mind when the key is too high: Am I supposed to try to sing that note? Maybe I’m just supposed to listen to the worship leader sing it? I guess I’ll sing down an octave, but that feels really low, that can’t be right, can it? Am I just a really bad singer? Will the next song be more singable?

They get tired more quickly
When the songs are in unsingable keys, people will get worn out more quickly. After just one song in the stratosphere, people are going to want a break. Why? Because it feels like exercise. And it is, in a sense. If you’re singing songs in really high keys, you’re asking people to do a vocal work out. And it’s tiring.

They focus on (and blame) you
People don’t like feeling uncomfortable. That’s a basic fact of life. And when people feel uncomfortable, they look for someone to blame. So if I’m Joe the Plumber and I come to church on Sunday and the songs are all really high and unsingable, I’m going to blame the guy/girl who’s leading them. Now the worship leader is the focus and Joe the Plumber isn’t singing along. Not good.

They get conditioned to be spectators
After several too-high songs, or after several weeks/months/years of unsingable songs, your congregation will be conditioned to not sing along. They will have learned that it’s much more comfortable for them to listen to/watch you sing. At this point, you’ll really to have work to get them to sing along with you. Shouldn’t it be the opposite in the churches? I’d rather my congregation be so accustomed to singing along in church that it feels foreign to them to just listen/watch.

I can’t overemphasize the importance of choosing keys wisely for congregational songs. If the Psalmist said “let us exalt his name together” (Psalm 34:3) then surely our number one priority is unified singing. Good keys are the basic building blocks of unified singing.

Reblogged from Worthily Magnify:

An Easter tradition.

Last week I posted some funny ways Anglican churches could grow in worship. Like institute 40 days of cheesecake. Then I proceeded to not post anything the rest of the week. I’m sorry for being a terrible blogger and letting it get pretty quiet around here.

I did want to share the serious stuff that I shared in my seminar a couple of weeks ago when I encouraged Anglican worship leaders/pastors/congregations how they can grow in worship. I think most of this applies to other churches too.

1. Worship God out of love, not duty
We don’t worship God because he needs it, we worship God because we need it. God demands praise because we won’t be happy until we give it. God isn’t needy. We are. When people come to church because they think God needs it, or because God will be impressed, they’re doing it out of duty. Encourage people to come hungry, thirsty, and expectant to receive.

2. Appreciate all styles of music as God’s handiwork
There is not one style of music that can contain God’s glory. There is not one style of music that is unable to be used for God’s glory. Music is God’s handiwork, therefore we can and should use all of it, with care, for the glory of God. Therefore, we shouldn’t be protective, defensive, or suspicious. We should be glad to see God’s glory reflected in variety.

3. Expressiveness as the norm
When is the last time you’ve taught/offered encouragement on biblical expressiveness? Teach it from the bible and let people know they’re safe to feel free to worship with their bodies. Finally, model it. People won’t go beyond what they see up front. Expressive worship is the norm in scripture. So it should be in our churches too.

4. Clergy as worship leaders
The pastor, or the priest, or the rector of a church is being studied at all times. Especially during a service. If he’s not interested or engaged in what’s going on, people notice. If your congregation isn’t expressive or engaged in worship, look at your pastor. Most often, he isn’t either. The picture at the top of this post is of my church’s pastor worshipping with his wife at our CD recording a month ago.

5. Lay Eucharistic ministers, acolytes, ushers, etc., as worship leaders
If you were to walk into a new church for the first time and see people up front, you would understandably assume that those people were in leadership. And if those people look bored during the service, you would understandably get the idea that worship isn’t terribly important. In Anglican/liturgical churches, most often, the people that we put up on the platform look bored. And I think this is a major reason why our congregations do too.

6. Do contemporary well
I remember when I was visiting England and I ordered a burger at a restaurant. I could tell it wasn’t the real deal. I remember when I was a kid and my Mom tried to sneak store-brand Cheerios in the name-brand box. I could tell it wasn’t the real deal. People have sharp antennae for fakeness. Sadly, in many Anglican churches, classical music is supported with skilled leaders and some sort of budget, while the contemporary music is not. This should not be so.

7. Go for it: celebration
On a scale of 1 – 10, 10 being a party, and 1 being asleep, most Anglican churches settle around a 3. They’re not totally asleep, but they’re leaning that direction. I think I can get away with saying this stuff since I’ve grown up in this tradition.

Don’t expect a congregation that’s at a 3 to all of the sudden go to a 10. But maybe one Sunday with some explanation and love you can encourage them to a 3.5? Nudge people to celebrate God’s glory with more enthusiasm.

8. Wait for it: stillness
Most people have very few (if any) extended times of stillness during their day. We can give them that space on Sunday. But it’s not enough to just leave silence and expect people to figure out what to do. Imagine you’re stuck on a plane on the tarmac. What do you want? The pilot to give you an update. So apply this principle to times of silence on Sunday: give people a bit of direction and explain what’s going to happen, and encourage them to be still and listen to the Lord and enjoy his presence. It might make people uncomfortable but it’s good for them.

9. See liturgy as a tool not an idol
I’ve written and spoken extensively on this here.

10. Leave room for the prophetic
Which of these two questions are you asking yourself the most throughout the service: (1) where does the liturgy have us going? Or (2) where is the Holy Spirit leading us? Both are important questions. But one is more important than the other. And that’s the latter question.

For goodness sakes, God can read. If all we do is read words off a page off of a screen, we might as well hold it up to God and say “read this”. We have a responsibility as worship leaders and pastors to keep people from honoring Jesus with their lips while their hearts are far from him. The active ministry of the Holy Spirit in our midst, during the singing, during the reading and preaching of the word, at the Eucharist, in the prayers, and in the silence, needs to be pursued and encouraged. And then we must be willing to follow his direction above the liturgy’s. He will not lead into error or disorder. He will lead to Jesus, and the more of that we experience on Sundays, the better for all of us.

I’ve belonged to an Anglican church my entire life. Many years in Episcopal churches, and more recently as part of the churches that have left and been aligned with the new American branch of Anglicanism.

I taught a seminar on Saturday titled “Ten Ways Anglican Churches Can Grow in Worship“. Tomorrow I’ll share the important stuff that I said, since I think a lot of it applies in non-Anglican churches too. Today I thought I’d share the joke I started off with.

Inspired by David Letterman, here are my tongue-in-cheek ways Anglican churches can grow in worship. Drum roll please…

10. Two words: donut guild.
9. Vestry candidate dance-off.
8. 40 days of Lent replaced with 40 days of Cheesecake.
7. Massaging pews.
6. Instead of the response “…and also with you”, the congregation says “right back atcha dude”.
5. New rule: cold pasta salads at church potlucks are grounds for immediate excommunication.
4. Security detail assigned to remove off-beat clappers
3. New game for bored middle schoolers: spit ball the snoozers.
2.“Passing of the peace” replaced with “passing of the pizza”
1. New name for genuflecting… Tebowing.

If there’s one thing that really bugs me about most worship teams that I watch on the internet these days, it’s when they have a front line of 5 – 10 singers, and each one seems to be some sort of Disney robot. No offense, of course. I’m sure they’re nice people who love to sing. But they stand there and look straight out at people, smiling and pointing and nodding their heads, making direct eye contact (I’ve even seen some of these singers wink) and I can’t understand what this is supposed to accomplish.

My answer to the singer from my worship team was to (a) be engaged with God in heartfelt worship and (b) be aware of the people you’re standing before. This does NOT mean working the crowd, making direct eye contact, smiling at people and employing cheerleading tactics.

When I look out on the congregation when I’m leading worship, I’m looking out as if I’m looking through a periscope on a submarine. I’m scoping out what’s happening but I’m not staring directly at people. I am confidently cocooned inside of myself, worshipping God, aware of my surroundings and my fellow musicians, and I make sure to regularly scan the room with the goal of seeing what’s going on.

I’m trying to make this as uncomplicated as I can. So I’ll try to phrase it differently.

Worship leaders/singers/musicians should avoid the kind of eye contact that performers are taught to employ. This is what I mean when I describe a Disney robot. It’s an uber-happy, I-am-singing-right-at-you-right-now, are-you-feeling-good-too?, disingenuous, direct eye contact.

Instead, we (a) should definitely avoid squeezing our eyes closed the entire time, (b) open them regularly, and (c) when we do open them, scan the room broadly, continuing to engage with God, not the people, and adjust our leading if necessary.

It’s a subtle but important distinction. We are seeking to model engagement with God. If we model engagement with the congregation, it changes the whole dynamic and makes people feel like they’re an audience at a show. So definitely open your eyes, but don’t try so hard to engage with people directly. Hope this is helpful. 

The value of laughter
Three of the musicians (Carl Albrecht on drums, Luke Moseley on piano, and Russell Crain on electric) were guests. We had never met each other, led worship together, or rehearsed. So there wasn’t a ton of chemistry that first morning at an 8:30am breakfast. It didn’t take long, though. After our Student Ministry Director got us laughing at Chuck Norris facts, the rest is history. We had great times of laughter, and that really helped the team grow together.

The value of good food and drink
We had volunteers delivering huge breakfasts with Starbucks coffee, afternoon snacks, cookies and milk, and plenty of water. We had good lunches and dinners around town. There was always something close-by to eat or drink. This kept us going. (I wrote a post on this topic a while ago here.)

The need for breaks
We did a good job most of the time taking 15 or 20 minute breaks every hour and a half or so. When things would start to drag we’d take a break and get a rest. On the Friday, however, we didn’t leave ourselves enough time after the 2^nd full run-through to take a long break before the evening recording. So we all felt a bit frazzled and worn out that night. Lesson learned. We should have planned better for a long break.

Don’t make your congregation anxious
Before our first recording on Friday night, I went through little sections of each song that I thought might be new to the congregation, or I thought they might sing wrong. On one hand, it was good because it broke the ice and make people laugh. But on the other hand, I received feedback that it made the congregation feel anxious and afraid to mess up. So on Saturday night I scrapped the whole idea and just encouraged people to sing out. We were all much more relaxed.

A metronome really helps
Obviously, since we were making a recording, we had to play to a metronome in our ears. Carl controlled this and was an invaluable help. I learned that the difference between the right feel and the wrong feel can often be just one or two beats per minute. It took the pressure off our shoulders and helped keep us all more together. This isn’t realistic for every team or every song or every Sunday, but we’ve actually started to use a click in our ears on Sundays and so far we’re actually (mostly) enjoying it.

People in your congregation want to volunteer
Two weeks ago I sent an email to our worship team/choir/others with 15-20 different needs I had (airport pick-ups/drop-offs, meals, rides, etc). Within 24 hours, all the slots were filled, and many were double-booked. I should take time more often to ask people for help.

Our congregation loves to worship
For years, people have been asking me when we were going to have an evening of extended worship. After seeing the response this past weekend, I don’t know what took me so long.

Rigorous rehearsal doesn’t have to mean perfection
We rehearsed the recording’s 14 songs more than I’ve ever rehearsed any songs. But we never tried to get them perfect. Our goal was to get comfortable and confident enough with them that we could lead them with excellence. But we still held loosely to them and left space for God’s leading. The goal of rehearsal should never be perfection, even for a live CD.