Tag: Jokes

Happy 2016, worship leaders!

It’s a new year, full of new potential, new opportunities, new emails from that one person in your congregation (you know who I’m talking about), and new songs that will be old and forgotten by 2017.

I will be adopting these worship leader new year’s resolutions in the months ahead, and I (cue the octave jump) STRONGLY RECOMMEND YOU DO THE SAME.

1. New song sandwiches
In order to accommodate the high volume of new worship songs being released every week, I am going to begin introducing two new songs at once, but pretending it’s just one new song, when in reality, it’s a new song sandwich.
– Beginning: New song A (part 1).
– Middle: New song B.
– Ending: New song A (part 2).
– Optional reprise: Intermingled blend of new song A (part 1), and new song B (part 2).

2. Smart-lasers
It’s not enough to shine lasers on the worship team. And it’s not enough to shine lasers on the congregation. Those lasers need to be smart enough lasers to shine directly into the hearts of people who just aren’t into it and wake them up. Shine, lasers, shine.

3. Explore the space
Every song needs at least a four-minute instrumental break. At least.

4. More shofars
Speaking of instrumental breaks that will usher in unparalleled revival, it is time to reclaim the shofar and give it it’s deserved prominence in every single song. Sho far? So. Good.

5. Stage extensions
Ever seen how Taylor Swift has that cool stage that lets her walk out into the middle of the audience in her shows? That’s got “congregational engagement” written all over it. Droopy-eyed early service? Tuned-out teens? Dance out onto that stage extension and shake it off.

6. A new approach to octave jumps
You will not find a greater advocate for the absolute necessity of an octave jump in every song than me. I don’t think a song without an octave jump is even worth singing. But simple octave jumps are just not enough anymore. They have lost their power. It’s time to embrace a new approach to octave jumps. Follow me here, and follow me closely. I am copyrighting this approach as “The FaceMelter”:
– Step 1: Start first verse down an octave.
– Step 2: Jump octave on the SECOND WORD. This will surprise people. Excellent.
– Step 3: Third word? Back down to original octave.
– Step 4: At the very first beat of the first chorus: Initiate a half-step modulation.
– Step 5: Next verse, modulate another 2.5 steps.
– Step 6: This is when you step on the gas. Jump octave.
– Step 7: Jump it again. Can’t do it? Try harder.
– Step 8: Back down to original key.
– Step 9: Drummer modulates a whole step. Tell him to ask the pianist what this is.
– Step 10: Sho-far solo. Recharge lasers.

THIS RESOLUTION SPONSORED BY DRUMMERS:
7. Put the flutists in a plexiglas cage
For too long, flutists have had SUCH an easy time. They’re polite, they’re unobtrusive, their instrument can fit in their pocket, and in the event of a water landing, their instrument can also be used as a snorkel. It’s time to surround them with plexiglas, absorption panels, plexiglas extenders, an absorption ceiling, and a little more plexiglas just for good measure. Throw in a little fan to blow their music off the music stand. And stuff their flute with two pillows. Control those rebel flutists!

8. New catchphrases
Worship leader: do not underestimate the power of an effective catchphrase. Suggestions:
– Opener: I’m here… you’re here… it’s singing time!
– Song transition: And now let’s break it down.
– Ice breaker: Find that person next to you and hug em’ real good.
– Before the sermon: And now let’s put on our listening ears.
– At the dismissal: Don’t forget to follow me on Twitter!
– Classic (one of my faves): You are now free to move about the cabin of praise!

9. Growling
There is never a good excuse for a worship leader not to growl at least four times during a worship set.

10. Conga lines
The worship renewal of the 1970s was characterized by the prominence of conga lines. Time to bring those babies back. Conga lines + new song sandwiches + shofars + lasers + The FaceMelter + catchphrases + growling + stage extensions? You’re a good good worship leader! It’s who you are.

Happy new year! Go hug a flutist.

Sometimes you find beauty in the most unexpected of places.

And then sometimes you find something you’re not sure how to describe in a place where you’re not totally surprised to find something like it but you’re still surprised to find it even though you’re not sure what it is.

That would describe my mental state last night when I stumbled upon an ad for an upcoming worship album which featured a phrase that almost took my breath away, but not quite all the way, leaving me with just enough breath to continue to breathe, and to continue to live to share the unexpected beauty of its mystery with you.

There, in all-caps, against a backdrop of a red-dust spreading ballet dancer in a pose I call the “Ouchie Pretzel”, was this phrase:

YOUR SOUND IGNITES THE COLOR OF HIS LOVE.

I found myself immediately questioning not only myself, but also all I know to be logical and established and true:

1. Does love have a color?
2. Can color be ignited?
3. Can (or could) sound ignite flammable color?
4. If sound can be used to ignite color, and if love has a color, then what’s the deal with all the frozen yogurt shops popping up everywhere?

Then a more philosophical question hit me:

1. What in the world does YOUR SOUND IGNITES THE COLOR OF HIS LOVE mean?

I realized in that moment something very true:

Obviously, it means that the more we draw sounds with the intonation of our thoughts and physicality in the universal realm of ballet, we’ll ignite an invisible flame that will actually be a reverse flame that doesn’t burn but actually creates something new in its place like a dimension in the musical sphere that’s unexplainable by words and incomprehensible by the human or animal mind, all the while transcending our very existence and leading us to that quiet place where we can commune with God.

How have I missed that simple truth all these years?

This ad awakened me to a new level of worship leading profundity. I don’t think I’ll ever be the same. It’s almost like I’ve stumbled across a new path that I never knew was there, but if I had only looked I would have seen the path was there the whole time, kind of like that time I lost my car keys for an hour but they were sitting on the kitchen island laughing at me (silently, like the flammable color of love) the whole time.

YOUR SOUND IGNITES THE COLOR OF HIS LOVE.

In other words, the mathematical yet musical combination of intervals that form themselves to create a culturally conditioned yet innately recognized product that we’ve deemed “music” (when we could have just as easily deemed it “croissants”) can literally and/or figuratively and/or eternally and/or tangentially ignite (using that word interchangeably with “jazz hands”) the color, which is really just a fancy way of saying “don’t do what you do, but be what you do, so that you end up doing what you’re made to be”, of his love, which is all possible for $9.99 on iTunes.

Get it today before your color is up and you’ve missed the ignition of the sound.

Or was it all just a dream? I’m going to get some frozen yogurt.

It’s become clear to me that contemporary worship music is dead, dying, and decaying. Think I’m wrong? I’m not. Here’s my proof (read it and weep. Really. Please weep):

1. The new songs aren’t nearly as old as the older songs
“All Hail the Power of Jesus’ Name” was written in 1779! “Ten Thousand Reasons” was written in 2011. These new songs aren’t even close to being as old as the old songs. The old songs have been around for several hundred years! These new ones? Not nearly that long!

2. Some of the new songs are trying to pretend they’re old hymns
Have you read some of the new songs? They’re trying to act like they’re hymns, with their deep theology and everything. It’s ridiculous.

3. Whatever happened to singing Isaac Watts?
Hasn’t he written anything new lately? Why aren’t we singing his new stuff? Even more ridiculous. We’re missing out on new material from the old hymn writers.

4. Bad stuff
Some of the new stuff coming out is really bad and unsingable. You think the old hymn writers ever wrote bad hymns and ended up throwing them away? I doubt it. How do you spell infallible? S-P-A-F-F-O-R-D, that’s how.

5. Look in the old hymnals…
See any of these new songs in the old hymnals? Nope. They’re not good enough to be in there.

6. Repetition is never appealing
These new song writers have never studied great compositions like the “Hallelujah Chorus” or “Psalm 107” to see how you don’t need to repeat phrases to emphasize something.

7. No time for filtering
We need to wait another hundred years (at least!) before we event think about singing these new songs being written, so we can make sure they’re safe for us to sing. Once these new songs are 100 years old, if they’re still around, then maybe we can sing them. Maybe.

8. There aren’t as many new songs as there are old songs
We have more material from the last 2,000 years (not to mention all the years BC) than all of the songs written after 1970 combined! I think that says something.

9. Our forefathers didn’t sing these new songs
If these new songs weren’t good enough for our forefathers to sing several hundred years ago, then they’re not good enough for me. My great-grandfather had never heard of Chris Tomlin when he was alive.

10. We’re done being creative
There’s nothing more to be said that hasn’t been said, there are no new melodies that need to be written that haven’t already been written, and there’s no need to be creative anymore because we reached our creative quota in about 1913. Except for “In Christ Alone”. That one earns an exception. It slipped through just in time. Barely. But don’t tell anyone. We’re done. Really. Stop it.

In closing, contemporary worship music (hereafter referred to as CWM) is like a box of chocolates that you got for Christmas, and then forgot about, and stuffed it away with all the Christmas wrap, and found it the next year, still shrink-wrapped, and wondered to yourself “will I die if I eat this?” The answer is “yes”. Yes, you will die, and the last thing you’ll ever have run through your mind is “I didn’t know this one had the disgusting strawberry liqueur filling”. Yes, you did know, because I’m telling you. Stay away from CWM and eat the older chocolate instead. Oh no my analogy just broke down…