Leading – Page 19 – Worthily Magnify

Ten More Worship Leading Myths

A couple of weeks ago I shard ten worship leading myths that seemed to encourage/challenge a lot of worship leaders and generate some good discussion. I think most worship leaders find themselves regularly facing discouragement and doubt about their role in ministry and whether or not they’re making a difference and going about things the right way. All of us who lead worship could use some encouragement and challenging from time to time, so I offer ten more myths that can keep us being as effective as we should be.

11: My worth correlates to how worship goes. Wrong. It correlates to Jesus’ perfect sacrifice so get over yourself.

12: If people aren’t into it, I should repeat it 4 more times. Wrong. Sometimes you just need to move on.

13: That song didn’t work last week so we should throw it away. Wrong. If it’s a good song, try it at least 3 times.

14: I’m really good at this so I don’t need to prepare. Wrong. God seems to enjoy humbling cocky worship leaders.

15: Maybe someday people will notice me. Wrong. Maybe someday you won’t want to be noticed.

16: Big church worship leaders are experts. Wrong. Small church worship leaders usually have a much harder job.

17: My job is to take people on a journey or create an experience. Wrong. Your job is to point to Jesus with clarity.

18: If we sing too many old hymns we won’t be relevant. Wrong. If you sing too few you won’t have enough substance.

19: I don’t need to get too involved in the congregation. Wrong. If you don’t love them you’re just a clanging cymbal.

20: My pastor doesn’t know how lucky he is to have me. Wrong. You don’t know how lucky you are not to have his job!

As always, I’m sure I missed a couple hundred more myths so please feel free to share.

Would You Say it Like That in a Normal Conversation?

One of the best pieces of worship leading advice I ever received was from my pastor who told me to write down ahead of time whatever I planned on saying or praying on a Sunday morning. If I wanted to introduce a song, offer a quick reflection or encouragement, or pray out loud, he suggested I think it through ahead of time and write it down. Very good advice.

The problem was that when it came time to actually say what I had prepared, or pray what I had written out, it sounded canned, fake, and unnatural. It sounded like I was reading off of a piece of paper. The fact that I had to keep looking down at my music stand didn’t help either. The substance of what I was saying was good, but the delivery was bad.

So my advice to worship leaders (this includes me here…) is to not only write down ahead of time what you want to say/pray, but to make certain it sounds like you. Say it out loud. Would you say this in a normal conversation? Is that the word you would use? Would you phrase it like that? If you wouldn’t say it or phrase it like that in a normal conversation with a friend, then don’t write it down that way. Write with your voice.

My test for this is a little strange but I’ll share it anyways.

When I’m thinking through what I’m going to say when I introduce a song or offer a word of encouragement, I picture that I’m driving my car, with my wife in the passenger seat, and some good friends in the back seat, and I want to tell them why we’re going to sing a particular song on Sunday.

Imagine if, while driving my wife and some friends around town and the topic of my Sunday song list came up, I said something like: “Beloved, we’ve gathered here in the house of the Lord and I’m just so excited for what God’s gonna do. This next song says we have 10,000 reasons to bless the Lord, and as we raise our voices as one body this morning I just want to encourage you to really go for it this morning and ‘sing like never before’.”

My wife and my friends would look at me like I was an alien. I don’t usually talk like that. Why am I putting on this weird voice? Why am I phrasing things so awkwardly? What happened to the real Jamie?

How would I sound explaining something to someone in a normal conversation? That’s how I want to sound on stage. When you’re thinking through what to say/pray on a Sunday, try looking at an empty chair, and imagine one of your friends sitting in it. Talk to him. That’s how you naturally communicate. Capture that and communicate to your congregation the same way, if possible. Be yourself and they’ll hear what you’re saying.

Ten Worship Leading Myths

There isn’t a worship leader in the world who doesn’t struggle with regular, persistent, frustratingly silly (but still dangerous) moments of doubt/fear/anxiety/self-consciousness/jealousy. We start to believe myths that tell us we should be different, or we aren’t talented enough, or we shouldn’t uphold certain principles. These myths weaken our ministry as worship leaders.

Here are ten common worship leading myths that come to mind:

1: Every week you have to be more creative than the last. Wrong. Every week you get to point people to Jesus again.

2: Don’t waste too much time thinking/praying about songs for Sunday. Wrong. This is your most important job.

3: You need a great voice. Wrong. If God calls you then you’re the man for the job. Sing with abandon.

4: You have to stay up-to-date with all the new stuff. Wrong. None of the stuff changes lives. Jesus does.

5: You’ve really arrived when you get famous. Wrong. The Church needs servants not celebrities.

6: if people aren’t into it then something’s wrong with your leading. Wrong. That’s the Holy Spirit’s job. Be patient.

7: Anyone with a willing heart should serve on the worship team. Wrong. Look for heart AND giftedness.

8: The Holy Spirit only shows up on the 4th song. Wrong. Don’t create formulas. Magnify Jesus in whatever time you have.

9: You’d be happier at another church. Wrong. You’d just have different challenges and different reasons to be unhappy.

10: You should speak before every song. Wrong. The more you talk, the less they hear what you’re actually saying.

I know I missed several hundred more myths that worship leaders believe. If you’ve got any to share, I’d love to hear them.

Don’t Overcorrect

It’s a terrifying feeling when you’re driving a car and something unexpected happens.

Someone starts to swerve into your lane.

A tire blows out.

You begin to hydroplane in the rain or snow.

But however the terrifying situations differ, one of the most basic pieces of driving advice remains the same: don’t overcorrect. Overcorrecting most often makes things worse.

The same principle applies to worship leading.

You can tell a song is bombing.

Your drummer is playing in 6/8 instead of 4/4.

You’re singing one verse and the screens are projecting another.

The possibilities are endless. So many things can go wrong on a Sunday morning, and since you’re not expecting them, you could instinctively overcorrect. But overcorrecting most often makes things worse.

To overcorrect in a car usually means to steer the car wildly in one direction, then realizing one’s mistake, and steering wildly in the other direction, by which point your car might be rolling over or hitting a tree.

To overcorrect in worship leading usually means to make a similarly wild direction change. You abruptly stop a song. You decide to preach a mini-sermon. You decide to sing a 4 minute spontaneous song (I did this when I was fourteen in a little Episcopal church and it did NOT go well!).

You get the idea. And you’ve experienced what I’m talking about. You can feel yourself starting to lose control and so you’re tempted to do something drastic.

Now of course you never say never. It’s not that it’s never a good idea during worship to do something drastic. Sometimes that’s exactly what the Holy Spirit is saying to you. But, in my experience, most of the time your response to the unexpected things in worship should be to keep your car in your lane, keep it moving ahead, and make sure you get to your destination.

I would much rather get through a worship set alive, and review the snot out of it later, then decide to risk everything on making it work for goodness sake! No one single worship set is worth you causing a ton of commotion. Slow and steady wins the race. You’ll get to lead worship again next Sunday. Let a day go by, and when you’ve calmed down, look back at what went wrong. This will be safer for your congregation, for you, and yes, for your job.

You Can’t See Them But They’re Singing Along

I usually don’t have very profound thoughts when I’m running. This is because I usually don’t really enjoy running. I do it because it’s good for me and I feel better when I exercise, but I’m not one of those guys who just loves to go out for a run. I think those guys are weird.

But a few days ago I was running on one of the beautiful wooded trails near my house and God to spoke to me. He spoke to me through the chorus of a thousand singing crickets.

I had been running for 30 or 40 minutes when it dawned on me that for the duration of my run, for 4 miles or so, there had been the constant sound of crickets singing. Loudly. Thousands of them, if not more. Enough to drive you a bit crazy if you let them. I hadn’t really noticed the cacophony of noise because I’m usually just trying to keep from collapsing, but when I did finally notice it, that’s when God broke through and spoke to me.

He said: you can’t see them but they’re singing along.

He was right. I hadn’t seen a single cricket. They were hidden in the bushes and trees and not out on the paved trail hopping around making themselves obvious. They were invisible to me. But they were definitely there.

Why was this realization so profound? Because God was telling me that it’s the same way on Sunday mornings.

All I can see on Sunday mornings is what’s physical. I see the music on my music stand, the microphone in front of my face, the congregation in the room, the band to my right and left, the words on the screen, and that guy who never ever sings along standing in the balcony. What’s with that guy, anyway?

What I can’t see is “a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands, and crying out with a loud voice, ‘Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!’” (Revelation 7:9-10).

I can’t see “all the angels… standing around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures” who fall on their faces before God’s throne “saying, ‘Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever! Amen’” (Revelation 7:11-12).

I can’t see this heavenly worship just like I can’t see the crickets in the trees. I can’t see the “myriads of myriads and thousands of thousands” of angels worshipping in heaven (Revelation 5:11), but I know that they’re singing along with me as I stand at my microphone on Sunday morning.

This is awe-inspiring. This is encouraging. This is amazing. When we gather together to worship God, and when we as worship leaders stand to lead our congregation, there is a cacophony of heavenly worship that’s singing along with us.

I have a new appreciation for the invisible crickets who sing their songs invisibly from the trees. They remind me that I’m a part of something cosmic and heavenly and invisible, and that’s the unceasing worship of the Lamb upon the throne.