Jesus Does the Impossible

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A few Sundays ago I preached on Mark 10:17-31 at my church’s evening service. This is the story of the rich young man who comes to Jesus with the all-important question, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”.

In my sermon, I suggested four lessons Jesus teaches us about entrance into his Kingdom in response to that question, and in the ensuing conversation with his disciples. He teaches us that we can’t do enough, that we can’t have other idols, that we can’t lose by sacrificing, and that Jesus does the impossible.

You can hear it here:

Remembering and Rejoicing

Jamie Brown1 Comment

In the second chapter of Ephesians, Paul makes a really, really, really important point.

Twice.

In the first half of the chapter, he paints a dire picture of the gravity of our condition outside of Christ with four stunning words: “And you were dead” (Ephesians 2:1). After explaining a bit more of what “dead” means, he then draws our attention to the glory of our Savior with two history-changing words: “But God” (Ephesians 2:4). He then goes on to proclaim just how glorious Jesus is.

In the second half of the chapter, Paul again paints a dire picture of the gravity of our condition in verses 11-12. He says “Therefore remember that formerly you were separate… you were excluded… you were foreigners… and you were without hope and without God in the world.”

And then, just like earlier in the chapter, he draws out attention to the glories of Jesus beginning with two words: “But now” (Ephesians 2:13).

Remember… But God!

Remember… But now.

Notice the pattern here?

Remember the gravity of your condition. And rejoice in the glories of your Savior.

A heart that is not warmed to worship Jesus is a heart that has been made cold by forgetfulness. There is a direct correlation between a lack of worship and a lack of remembering.

Think about the day – in the future – long, long in the future – when the Washington Redskins – someday – win the super bowl. Why will we so fervently celebrate their decisive victory over the Dallas Cowboys? Because we know the gravity of their condition.

I need to hear this reminder every day. My official job title at my church is “Director of Worship and Arts”. I am literally paid to worship Jesus. But I forget. And when I forget the gravity, I’m not captivated by God’s grace

And David got this. David knew this reality. That’s why David wrote in Psalm 103: “Bless the Lord, O my soul, and FORGET NOT all his benefits.” He had to literally tell his own soul: “Don’t forget!” He forgives all your iniquity. He heals all your diseases. He redeems your life from the pit.

Don’t forget that he redeemed your life from the pit. Look back at the pit – then look up to Jesus – and rejoice.

“But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far away have been brought near by the blood of Christ” (Ephesians 2:13).

We can’t rejoice without first remembering. When we remember the gravity of our condition, we are all the more ready to rejoice in the glories of our Savior.

Hosanna (For Two Percussionists)

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Yesterday morning at my church, our prelude was an instrumental piece entitled “Hosanna (For Two Percussionists)”. My colleague Andrew Cote composed this piece for Palm Sunday this past March, and is one of the guys playing the song in the video below. The other guy is Joseph Connell – the drummer at my church for the last 25 years! I love these guys.

Andrew describes the piece this way:

When I began working for Truro Anglican Church in 2016, I began a tradition of writing a percussion duet for myself and our percussionist, Joseph Connell as a call to worship for our Palm Sunday services. This piece is an attempt to capture the energy of the crowd welcoming Jesus as he entered Jerusalem.

Here’s a rough iPhone video of the song from yesterday.

You can purchase the arrangement here.

What Liturgy Should (And Shouldn’t) Aim To Do

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My very earliest memories of corporate worship are from the small Episcopal church my dad pastored in Clewiston, Florida, from the time I was born until I was three years old. I have fuzzy memories of the smells, the baptismal font, the rows of wooden pews, and everyone standing up and holding books in their hands. I mostly drew in coloring books and/or ate Cheerios.

When I was a teenager, God’s call on me to serve the Church as a worship leader became increasingly clear. Since that time, I’ve only ever served in liturgical Anglican churches, with the same kinds of smells, baptismal fonts, wooden pews, and books in people’s hands. And while a lot has changed in the way corporate worship looks and sounds, the liturgy has mostly remained the same. There have been revisions here and there, different rites, liturgies from other parts of the world, and certainly many controversies, but by and large, the liturgy that guides the weekly worship of my particular branch of the protestant Church looks remarkably similar to how it did decades ago.

Liturgy has become more popular in recent years, so much so that now even many of my Baptist and non-denominational friends openly embrace the word, want to employ various liturgical elements in their services, and see its value. I think we all recognize that every church has a liturgy, after all. From the highest of high churches to the lowest of low churches, we have patterns, routines, traditions, and ways of doing things that end up becoming our liturgy. With that recognition comes a right and good (I just threw in a liturgical phrase for my Anglican nerd friends) desire to make sure our liturgy is intentional, rooted, pastoral, biblical, and effective in shaping people week after week with the good news of the Gospel through its pattern, structure, and substance.

For those of us who employ elements of a more traditional liturgy in our services, it’s worth asking the question from time to time, what should our liturgy aim to do? And on the flip side, what should our liturgy NOT aim to do?

On the positive side, a more traditional liturgy should aim to do a number of things:

Keep us rooted. Psalm 145:4 says “One generation shall commend your works to another, and shall declare your mighty acts.” By sharing a liturgy that stretches back hundreds of years, we allow generations that have gone before us to commend God’s work and mighty acts to us now.

Keep us telling a story. It’s tempting for pastors and/or worship leaders to get stuck on their own hobby horses, their own favorite topics, and their own musical styles. A more traditional liturgy can keep us in the habit of telling a story when we gather, with a robust diet of Scripture, creeds, and prayers.

Keep us responding. We hear who God is, and we respond in confession. We hear that we are forgiven in Christ, and we respond with praise. We hear God’s his Word, and we respond in proclaiming what we believe. We hear the story of our redemption, and we respond with thanksgiving. The whole service is a dance of revelation and response, and revelation and response again.

Keep us focused on Jesus. The best thing liturgy can do is point us away from ourselves and to the glory of God revealed to us in Jesus Christ. For example, the Church Year itself, from Advent to Pentecost, annually walks us through the story of God’s redemptive plan through Jesus’ coming, living, dying, rising, ascending, and sending of His Spirit. For a forgetful people who are prone to wander, the insistence of liturgy to point us to Jesus is a great gift.

But on the flip side, there are a number of things liturgies of any kind shouldn’t aim to do.

Impress God. This should go without saying, but I’m going to say it anyways: our liturgy does not impress God. The beauty of our worship, excellence of our music, smells of our incense, or modernity of our technology does not impress God. We do not employ liturgy to impress God, we employ liturgy because it’s a gift from God to help us worship God. We worship God, not liturgy. God accepts our praise through Christ, not through a formulation of beautiful words.

Impress people. Liturgy is the plate, but God is the feast. It would be ridiculous for me to ask guests at my home to eat the plate on which I serve them their food. It’s similarly ridiculous for us to ask worshippers to be impressed with our liturgy. When our liturgy becomes the feast, we’ve got it all wrong. God is the feast, and we feast upon him in his Word. Liturgy is just another tool to help people “read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest” God’s living and active Scripture.

Impart faith. Saying the Apostles’ or Nicene Creed will not impart faith upon those who recite it. Saying ancient prayers will not cause a person to mean them. Listening to the words explaining the meaning behind communion will not bring a person to put their trust in Jesus. Over time, these liturgical elements may certainly help a person make sense of their faith, learn some helpful patterns of prayer, and understand what communion is all about. But liturgy should never be expected to impart faith upon people simply by being included in a service for years in a row.

Enliven stale services. The old saying goes “the heart of the matter is the matter of the heart”. That goes for worship services too. Simply tinkering with different factors – like musical styles, service times, set design, and liturgy – will not enliven stale services. Those factors are all very much secondary. The factor of first importance is the heart. The human heart is only ever truly satisfied by the One for whom it was created to glorify and enjoy. We start with the heart: helping people see, savor, sing, and celebrate the immeasurable riches of God’s grace in Jesus Christ, asking the Holy Spirit to reveal Jesus to us even more clearly.

Then our liturgy will be seen in its proper place: as a tool that we can use as much or as lightly as needed, keeping the main thing the main thing, serving those people in our pews every Sunday, even the little kids with their coloring books and Cheerios.

Growing Healthy, Worshipping, Intergenerational Choirs: Worship Leader Gathering 2018

Jamie Brown1 Comment

A little over one month from now I’ll be leading a small gathering of worship leaders and/or choir directors in Atlanta, centered around the theme of growing healthy, worshipping, intergenerational choirs, and partnering those choirs with worship teams.

I’ve mentioned before that I didn’t grow up a “choir guy”, I never sang in choirs, I don’t conduct choirs, and for many years my only experience with church choirs was that they were dwindling.  I’ve seen choirs that are extinct, or dead, or hostile, or performance-minded, or divorced from contemporary music (with occasional awkward family visits at Christmas and Easter), or grasping at straws. The National Study of Congregations (Duke University) showed that in a 14 year period, between 1998 and 2012, the utilization of choirs in mainline protestant churches dropped 30%. And from what I’ve seen – in the last 5 years, that’s continued to drop.

Some churches strong, growing, stable choirs. But that’s the exception, not the norm. The trends are downward. Why do so many of us (even people like me, who aren’t your traditional “choir guys”) care that we continue the ministry of choirs?

Because a choir provides the Church a unique demonstration of the gospel – in that people from all tribes and tongues, generations, races, backgrounds, and skill levels – are redeemed and joined together to the praise of God’s glorious grace, they are not merely a decoration to be saved from the trash heap of musical yesteryear, but are a vehicle for TODAY’S CHURCH to display a microcosm of God’s ransomed people, joined together as the worshipping body of Christ.

God has planted in me – and my colleagues at my church, and many worship leaders and choir directors around the world – a vision for choirs that are:

  • Multi-ethnic
  • Cross-generational
  • Made up of “trained” singers and “amateur” singers
  • Growing
  • Able to sing difficult, classical pieces
  • Able to sing modern music with vigor
  • Meaningfully engaged in worship
  • Part of a unified team alongside the band
  • Such a welcoming family that people can’t resist joining
  • A worship leading engine, pointing the congregation to Jesus

One of the churches that demonstrates this kind of choir – and has been demonstrating it for several decades – is Mount Paran Church of God. It’s a different kind of church from the ones I’ve attended and served, it belongs a different denomination (which is VERY different from my stream of reformed Anglicanism in many many ways), and I had never even heard of it until about 10 years ago. But oh how wonderful – and how broad – is the Body of Christ. And this church had something to teach me about what choirs could do. This clip shows something most Anglican churches would never consider doing with a choir and band. And maybe that’s part of our problem. God may have more for us, and more for choirs, than we think.

If you have a passion for growing healthy, worshipping, intergenerational choirs, and partnering them with worship teams, then join us in Atlanta next month. All the details can be found at: https://worshipleadergathering.com.

Maintaining Congregational Connection

Jamie Brown5 Comments

For the last two days, I’ve been at Trinity School for Ministry in Ambridge, PA, taking part in teaching at a worship conference hosted by Andy Piercy on the theme of “Restoring the Worship Connection”. I was one of the speakers, along with Andy, Paul Baloche, and Andi Rozier. It was great meeting and talking with so many gifted and faithful worship leaders.

In my session, I was asked to share on maintaining the congregation’s connection in worship. In other words, how do we help them not tune out? How do we remove road blocks to the congregation singing and participating? In an attempt to be succinct, and to cover some basic fundamentals of worship leading, I offered these 15 (!) essentials, and I share them here as well in the event that they’re helpful.

An invitational spirit
Psalm 34:3 is the heart of the worship leader, saying: “Oh, magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together!” We are like hosts at a feast.

A confident, humble, accessible style
Confidence to lead with clarity, humility to serve with pastoral care, and accessibility, so as many people as possible can follow and join in with you.

Songs worth singing
We have more songs at our disposal than ever, so we don’t have any reason to sing bad songs. Use songs that are musically, lyrically, and theologically rich. They’re out there!

A balanced repertoire
I wrote about the concept of “thinking in thirds” previously. Generally, the idea is that to keep as broad a cross-section of generations in your congregation engaged as possible, sing hymns, sing older/familiar songs, and sing new songs. Think in thirds.

Keys are key
The old adage of singing “from C to shining C” still holds true. Songs can dip lower, but don’t hang out in the doldrums. Songs can pop higher, but don’t hang out in the stratosphere. Keep your songs in singable keys for the average voice.

Building trust – and capital
Build trust with your congregation, and therefore build capital to save for later.

Spending that capital to push your congregation
Every congregation in the world has areas in which they can grow in worship. A worship leader who has built trust with his/her congregation can and should spend that capital to help the congregation grow. They’ll follow you if they trust you.

Modeling expressiveness
Worship leaders oftentimes lament the lack of expressiveness in the congregation. Start by modeling it from the platform, and you’ll send the message that it’s safe to be expressive in the congregation.

Using music – effectively and correctly – as a tool
Do whatever kind of style you can do, with the musicians you have, as well as you can. Don’t try to do what you can’t do. Don’t try to be who you aren’t. Don’t try to achieve a sound that isn’t achievable. Do what you can, as well as you can, and your congregation will appreciate it.

Having the right people – and equipment – run sound
Good sound encourages robust singing. It’s worth getting the right equipment and people to run sound in your setting. If you’re in a small church without a budget for this, call a larger church in your area with good sound, and simply ask for their help, and offer them a free lunch in return for a few hours of their time to help train your people and/or EQ your system.

Behind the scenes camaraderie with the pastor and worship leader
Tension or indifference between the pastor and worship leader will result in tension or indifference in the room. When a worship leader is seen as usurping or circumventing a pastor’s authority, that lack of unity is unhealthy for a congregation, and stifles their participation in worship. A pastor and worship leader must have a trusting and transparent relationship.

The worship space itself – acoustics, lighting, etc.
Dead acoustics in a room will deaden the singing, because people feel like they’re singing into a vacuum. Conversely, really bouncy acoustics will make everything unintelligible. Acoustics matter. So does lighting.

Driving the technology – so it doesn’t drive you
There’s nothing wrong with loops, multi-tracks, pads, etc. But when/if you integrate these things, make sure you’re driving them, and not the other way around. When technology drives us, and limits us, we run the risk of making the congregation’s involvement in worship incidental, not integral.

Faithfulness, faithfulness, faithfulness
Serve your congregation with faithfulness. Trust in God’s faithfulness. Over time, God will faithfully use your faithfulness, to accomplish his purposes, and glorify himself in and through the worship of his Church. You might not see the results you want to see, in the time you want to see them, but God is faithful, and your labor in him is not in vain.

The worship leader’s heart and diet
The public ministry of a worship leader starts – and is sustained – in private. Our private passion for God and his Word, will fuel our public ministry of inviting our congregations to feast upon him, and magnify his name with us.

When the Church Wounds You

Jamie Brown5 Comments

Six weeks ago I began a four-month long sabbatical, for a whole lot of reasons, not the least of which was to have the time and space to heal from a couple decades’ worth of bumps and bruises and scrapes and scars caused by the everyday journeys of life and ministry. The break from weekly worship leading has allowed me to slow down, zoom out, and examine myself and my ministry from 30,000 feet. God has graciously, mercifully, and sometimes painfully, shown me some areas that need his attention, and I’m very acutely aware that there are a lot of people praying for me. The Holy Spirit is doing his work of convicting, counseling, and comforting, and even while I’m knee-deep in five seminary classes this semester, I’m feeling refreshed and renewed.

Every single person in ministry bears their own wounds and has their own stories of how they’ve been hurt. And in the last six weeks alone I’ve had the chance to have long phone conversations with several worship leader friends of mine who are burned out, who have left worship ministry, who are thinking about it, who needed a break a long time ago but haven’t had the opportunity, who have been let go, or who feel like a car stuck in the sand, just spinning their wheels and not getting anywhere. They each have their own stories of being hurt while serving different churches, and while they genuinely want to be effective in ministry, they’re finding that it’s difficult to do so when you’re in pain.

A few weeks before I began my sabbatical I had one of those infamous conversations where someone told me something they had heard from someone else, who had talked to someone else, who had conveyed something they heard second-hand from someone, who heard it from someone somewhere. You know the kind of game-of-telephone thing I’m talking about. The particular thing that was communicated to me, and the particular dubious source from which it originated, was not surprising to me in the least, but it still hurt. Why? Because it happened to rub up against one of those wounds from decades earlier. It wasn’t the thing itself that hurt, but it aggravated an old wound.

I explained that kind of scenario to another worship leader friend of mine by likening it to when you walk into a room and smell something that takes you back to an old house or an old memory from 25 years ago. In an instant, you’re transported back in time. She told me that she knew exactly how I felt, and then proceeded to tell me something that had just happened to her the morning before our conversation. For her, it wasn’t the particular “thing”, but it was how it smelled, and what that smell evoked.

Being in a ministry is a wonderful privilege and joy. And it is also an exhausting and painful experience. When the Church hurts you, it leaves a wound. And when we’re not honest about those wounds, to quote an old seminary professor of mine, “it messes us up”.

We get resentful towards the Church. We become hardened. We react to almost everything with cynicism. We lead out of a defensive posture. And in our heart of hearts, we want to run away. It’s all understandable, and every single person in ministry has experienced (or is currently experiencing) these symptoms. It doesn’t mean anything’s wrong with you, but it does mean God is getting your attention.

These are like the check engine lights in your car, and you have to pay attention to them unless you want to wind up on the side of the road. And we all know people who have ignored those warnings for too long, and pushed it too hard, and eventually broke down. To be honest about our wounds, we need to be able to pull over, stop, allow the Lord to look under the hood, and with the Godly counsel of pastors, friends, counselors, and the healing balm of the Word of God, begin to actually heal. Warning: it will involve some pain, some discomfort, some forgiving, and some rest. It might involve some counseling, perhaps a break from ministry, and some difficult conversations. But you don’t need to pretend you’re not hurt, you don’t need to feel alone in this, and you don’t need to burn out.

Yes, the Church will wound you, and then by God’s grace, he will use the Church to help heal you.

We have to be willing to walk that road of vulnerability and healing. Most of us don’t get sabbaticals very often, but all of us can ask the Holy Spirit to help us take inventory of ourselves – and of how we’re really doing – and let God begin to soften hardened places, heal wounded places, and address neglected areas.

Then, in his sovereign wisdom, God will take our stories and wounds and use them for our good and for his glory, that Jesus would be exalted in our lives and through our songs, magnifying the one who bore our wounds on the cross.