I never knew, when I signed up to be a worship leader, how many meetings I’d be asked to run. When you work on a church staff, you’re inevitably asked to lead a meeting or two. Or a lot more than two.
I’ve been told I have the gift of leading good meetings. Honestly, if this is true, it must be because I don’t generally enjoy meetings. When I hear the word “meeting” I instinctively start looking for the closest escape hatch. So, when I lead a meeting, I’m leading it with two goals in mind: First, let’s end this thing as soon as possible. Second, let’s actually make this thing worth all of our time.
You can read three thousand books and attend conferences and seminars and take classes on how to run effective meetings. I bet those books and conferences and seminars and classes are written and taught by dudes with more management training than me, and have some better advice. But, in the hopes of encouraging worship leaders like myself who find themselves being asked to lead meetings, here are my succinct tips for running good meetings that people will actually want to attend.
1. Always have an agenda
2. Never lose control
3. Don’t dominate but lead it clearly
4. Don’t let any individual dominate
5. Let there be vigorous discussion but keep it focused
6. Resolve vigorous discussion with clear decisions
7. Don’t let unresolved decisions go without someone being assigned to work on them in the meantime
8. Most meetings should last no longer than half an hour
9. No meeting should last more than hour
10. Start and end the meeting on time and keep it fruitful. Make a joke or two. People will look forward to this kind of meeting
It finally dawned on me a few months ago. I don’t do bravado well. I’m quite happy to let other, more extroverted, more dynamic people do the talking while I sit back. I’ve got opinions for sure, and, as one recent assessment of my leadership style pointed out, I’m a “driver”, but when I’m in a room and other people are in the driver’s seat, I’ll sit in the back seat until it’s my turn to drive. I really do enjoy being the driver (ask my wife) but I just can’t do bravado.
I was brought up in ministry by mentors who modeled bold leadership. But these mentors also valued being understated in their boldness. They had a vision but weren’t jerks about it. They knew how to ignore misguided critics but would still listen to critique. They led worship with authority but derived that authority from God’s anointing, not their own accomplishment. They ran tight meetings with a firm hand but a soft heart. They contributed to meetings not by talking the most, but by talking when they really had something to say.
To be boldly understated is to possess the power of the Holy Spirit and the humility of Christ. Both and. To move in the power of the Holy Spirit without the humility of Christ is a contradiction. It’s arrogance.
There is far too much value placed on being bold these days, to the point that bravado is applauded and mistaken for boldness. This is true all over the world, including the worship-leading world. And there is far too little value placed on being understated, to the point that it’s seen as being weak. This is sad.
I’ve had the opportunity over the last few years to observe, either from afar (thanks in large part to correspondence and conversations with worship leaders through this blog and my family of Anglican churches) or up close, the inner workings of churches and denominations and organizations that are quite different from mine. In many of those settings, understatedness doesn’t get you very far. This isn’t a good thing.
Jesus modeled understated boldness. There was no mistaking his power and boldness (it got him killed) but there was also no mistaking his humility (it got him mocked).
And one of the keys to the effectiveness of the boldness of Jesus (and this is crucial for us) was that, since he wasn’t constantly walking around being bold all the time, when he did display unapologetic boldness, people paid attention. Then he’d go right back to washing feet (which was a pretty bold thing to do in an understated kind of way).
One of my favorite Will Ferrell skits from Saturday Night Live was when he played the character Jacob Silj, who suffered from “voice immodulation syndrome”. He was physically unable to change the inflection of his voice. He constantly yelled. The result was that no one wanted to listen to him. It was all loud, all the time.
Worship leaders who walk around in a constant state of boldness run the risk of canceling out their own effectiveness because it’s just too much for people to handle. It might get you to the front of certain lines, but it’s exhausting for people after a while. It’s bravado. It’s empty.
Temper your boldness by being understated. This might seem counter-intuitive. This might mean you have to tape your mouth shut from time to time. This might mean you sit back and let other people take the wheel while you enjoy the view from the passenger’s seat for a few minutes. This probably means you have to learn the art of good timing: when to be bold and when to be quiet.
Worship leaders: don’t do bravado. Yes, do boldness. But be understated about it. Be more comfortable with the background than the foreground. Step forward when needed but then step back again.
Pastors: don’t confuse bravado for boldness. And don’t be so quick to assume that someone who’s a bit understated might not be a driver in disguise.
Here’s a story (and audio clip) about how I broke a string in front of 1,400 people while recording a live CD and used a joke I stole from a worship leader’s Facebook group to salvage what could have been a really awkward moment.
First, the background:
About a year ago I joined a Facebook group called “Liturgy Fellowship“. It’s a group where a bunch of worship leaders who lead in contexts where some sort of liturgical structure is employed and/or valued share ideas, ask questions, and stay in touch. I’m not terribly active in the group, but I do check in from time to time since I’m curious about what other worship leaders are up to and dealing with.
A few weeks ago, a worship leader in the group shared that he had broken a string and used a joke Reggie Kidd had shared that the word “Selah” in the Psalms actually meant “ah shucks, I broke another string”. Reggie Kidd commented that the joke actually came from Eugene Peterson in his book Answering God where he wonders if “Selah” was actually a cuss word David used when he broke a string.
I thought this was really funny. So I made a mental note to tuck this little joke away in case I ever needed it in the future.
So, finally, back to the live recording in front of 1,400 people when I broke a string used the joke.
Last weekend we devoted our worship services to an extended time of worship and celebration of God’s faithfulness and goodness to us, after a year of considerable upheaval and change for our church. We recorded a live album last year before leaving our campus of over 275 years, and this year we wanted to capture our congregation continuing to proclaim God’s faithfulness and the power of the Gospel. (This is why this blog has been so quiet for a while, by the way).
On Thursday, the first day of our rehearsals, I put new strings on my guitar. I used those strings during all-day rehearsals on Friday and Saturday, and a recording on Saturday evening. That’s a lot of play.
So, on Sunday morning before our big combined service with everyone in one room, I wondered whether I should put new strings on. Nah, I thought, I’ll be OK.
Not so much.
We opened with three songs. A call to worship, Matt Redman’s “How Great is Your Faithfulness”, and “Crown Him with Many Crowns”. During the last few measures of “Crown Him…” I felt the dreaded pop. This wasn’t good. We still had about 12 more songs to get through. Oh. No.
Thankfully, after “Crown Him”, our pastor, John Yates, was supposed to come up and welcome people, pray, and lead us the prayer for purity. I thought that if I moved at lightening speed, I could replace the E string in that time. I wish.
So I rushed over to my case. No strings. I rushed back to where I thought they could be. Not there. Asked one of the electric guitarists if he had any. He said no. I run back to my case. I find them. I get back to my guitar just as the prayer for purity is ending and my pastor is walking back to his seat.
Then I remember. The Facebook group. The Selah joke. I can’t quite remember how it’s supposed to go. But I use it. I try to tell it as well as I can. Please work. Help me Lord.
And it works. They laugh. So I ask John to come back up and “share something from his heart” for 2 minutes. He plays along. People laugh. And I change my string faster than I’ve ever changed a string in my entire life.
Then we keep on going and record 12 more songs.
So, thanks to my friends on the Facebook group for sharing that excellent joke. Thank you, Lord, for in your providence pointing me to that joke weeks before I’d need it because you knew I’d need it. And thanks to my congregation for laughing.
I will likely use this joke again. And you should too. It’s a good one.
Here’s how it sounded, from the last sentence or so of the prayer for purity, during which I was running around on stage like a mad man.
I need your feedback and honest opinion on a song I’ve been working on.
It’s a song I’m writing for my congregation to sing this coming weekend as we look back on the last year for us (which has been a substantial one) and what’s coming ahead. I needed something that would be encouraging, point to Jesus, be a rallying cry, and be upbeat.
The line in the chorus “here we stand, we can do no other” comes from the great reformer, Martin Luther, who responded “here I stand, I can do no other” when pressed to recant his views. He refused.
In addition to being a song for my congregation, I wonder if this would work in any other context. This is why I need your help. Does the song work? Is it a keeper? Give me your honest critique. If it’s a keeper it will probably make its way onto my church’s live CD that we’re recording this coming weekend. Hence my plea for feedback.
Here’s the audio to a very rough demo (!) of the song.
And here are the tentative lyrics:
Here We Stand (We Can Do No Other)
Verse 1
Oh church, lift up your eyes, up from the waves
And look on Jesus’ face
Oh church, you should not fear. He’s strong to save
So lean on Jesus’ strength
Oh church, God will not fail.
He never breaks His covenant
Oh church, He will prevail, through every age
So trust in Him
Chorus:
Here we stand, we can do no other
We could run forever but we’d never find another place to go
Here we stand, we are held together
By a great Redeemer
In his hand, here we stand, we can do no other
Verse 2
Oh church, the story ends when Jesus wins
Don’t doubt your destiny
Oh church, lift high the cross, the empty cross
It stands in victory
Oh church, you will not fail.
Your hope is in what God has done
Oh church, you will prevail
The battle has been surely won
Chorus
Bridge
No turning back, no turning back
No turning ‘round, no turning around
Let’s say you’re leading worship and you’re about to wrap up a chorus, when you notice a guy who had been sitting on his hands for the whole song just start to stand up and put his hands in the air in worship. Is it OK to make an adjustment in your leading and extend the song just for that one person? Yes it is.
Why do you think you just happened to look out and see that guy about to stand up just at the same time you were about the stop the song? Do you think that when you prayed before the service that God would guide you that he actually heard you prayer? He’s answering it by directing your gaze to someone in the room who’s counting on your sensitive leadership.
It’s one thing to learn how to scan a room and read a large group. It’s another thing to look at individuals in your congregation, each of whom is dealing with a wide range of swirling emotions, pressures, physical ailments, fidgety kids and text messages all in the course of a 75 minute service. Your job isn’t just to aggregate all of these different people’s responses into one stream of input and then based on that one stream of input decide what the Holy Spirit is saying. Your job is also to have the presence of mind and sensitivity to adapt to individual promptings the Holy Spirit provides through directing you to look at a particular person.
I find myself, when leading worship, expecting the Holy Spirit to give me direction in powerful, thunderous, unmistakeable ways. But he doesn’t often do that. More often, his direction comes through a gentle whisper, an impression that I know came from elsewhere, or a very down-to-earth source like a dude just about to stand up when I’m about to stop, or communion taking too long so I can’t get loud when I planned to, or a missing slide so I have to skip a verse, or a comment from a parking volunteer about a song he really wishes we’d sing again.
Be on the lookout, the next time you lead, for ways God might be sending you signals through one person in the congregation, or one situation you can’t look past. If you catch these simple signals, the result just might be you making some adjustments that end up serving the whole congregation better.