Worship Despite Ourselves

Sometimes I have no direction. I have a theme. I have a scripture passage. I have a sermon title. And yet I have no direction. Songs play in my head, but they don’t feel right. Songs fall under the right category in the hymnbook index, but they don’t feel right. The words aren’t what we need. The melody isn’t familiar. The message, tune, and/or tempo don’t fit with the mood or flow of the service. And so I find myself at a loss.

Sometimes I ask my mom for help. Sometimes my dad. The truth is that my mom knows more about the hymnal than I’ll ever know and that my dad knows exactly what he is hoping a worship service will convey. Sometimes their suggestions directly pull me out of my rut. Sometimes they give me a directional tug. But sometimes even they don’t feel right. So sometimes I ask my praise team members for help. And the same thing will happen. Sometimes their suggestions pull me directly out of my rut while other times they give me a directional tug.

Yesterday’s worship service was a combination of all of the above: My mom directly chose what ended up being the Call to Worship and the second and third hymns while Rebecca the Children’s Minister chose what ended up being the special music. The thing that I wrestled with was where to place the songs that we had selected…and knowing that the praise team hadn’t practiced either song that we were supposed to play.

Truth be told, I hadn’t made a final decision about the order of yesterday’s music when I arrived at church. I knew my options, and I had a pretty good idea of what we would be doing when, but nothing was solid. As the praise team’s pre-service warm-up began and the members began to rag-taggedly arrive, I quickly determined that we would do the special music and settled into practice.

Here’s what happened, though: The first time we practiced the song that Rebecca the Children’s Minister had suggested, it was me, Rebecca, and Ethan the Bass Player and Vocalist. We figured out the vocal arrangement, and then Rebecca had to go do something else. Then David the Keyboard Player arrived. So Ethan and I practiced with David. I tried to figure out which guitar style sounded best with the song—strum or pick. Then Leslie the Vocalist and Guitar player arrived. So I handed her my guitar, showed her the strum part, shared with her what we had decided for the vocalists, got out my other guitar, and began playing the pick part. The combination of everything together sounded good, but Leslie’s guitar wasn’t coming through the sound system. Then Jeff the Vocalist and Sound Guy showed up. So I shared with him what we had decided for the vocalists, practiced one verse, and then asked him to see if he could figure out what was wrong with Leslie’s guitar pick up.

By this point, quite a few people had gathered in the sanctuary for worship. The rag-tag nature of how everyone had arrived was evident in how we were set up; Jeff and I were having to yell at each other to figure out the problem with Leslie’s guitar (the sound booth is at the back of the sanctuary in a room above the sanctuary); and the choir was waiting on me in the choir room. As soon as we got the guitar amplified and our equipment set up in such a way that it did not reflect chaos, I went to the choir room to get the choir ready for the service. After a quick warm-up and a prayer, we entered the sanctuary for worship.

The choir sang the Call To Worship. It was literally a musical version of the scripture reading of the day and led perfectly into the first hymn. The praise team sang the special music. One more member of the praise team showed up to sing. Just before we began, Rebecca quietly shared with her the vocal arrangement and then we sang…

There are times when the choir and/or praise team will work on a song for weeks. We will practice long and hard and wait for just the right time to offer our song in worship. And then no one will say anything in response…or if they do then it will be a complaint—the most common of which is that the praise team is too loud and the instruments unbalanced.

Then there are times like yesterday when the choir pulls out an old song and the praise team does the same…and things are a bit scattered and crazy like the episode chronicled above…and then numerous people tell me that the music was absolutely beautiful—the harmonies, the balance, the volume, and the message. When this happened yesterday, all I could say was, “It was God.” Because surely it was. You read about the morning and the uncertainty that led to it all. What else could it have been?

Thank you, God, for using us despite of ourselves. And help us to become the prayer that we sang. Amen.

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Lord, Make us instruments of your peace,
Where there is hatred, let your love increase
Lord, make us instruments of your peace,
Walls of pride and prejudice shall cease
When we are your instruments of peace.

Where there is hatred, we will show his love
Where there is injury, we will never judge
Where there is striving, we will speak his peace
To the millions crying for release,
We will be his instruments of peace

Lord, Make us instruments of your peace,
Where there is hatred, let your love increase
Lord, make us instruments of your peace,
Walls of pride and prejudice shall cease
When we are your instruments of peace.

Where there is blindness, we will pray for sight
where there is darkness, we will shine his light
Where there is sadness, we will bear their grief
To the millions crying for relief,
We will be your instruments of peace.

Lord, Make us instruments of your peace,
Where there is hatred, let your love increase
Lord, make us instruments of your peace,
Walls of pride and prejudice shall cease
When we are your instruments of peace.

Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be
Whispered words of wisdom, let it be

Communicate Love

“You all are a whole lot more stressed than I am. Then again, I have the plan in my head and you don’t.”

I heard those words come out of my mouth at the exact moment I saw the word OVERCOMMUNICATE flash before my eyes. Just before going to church to lead the music at a missions celebration, I had read a paragraph about the importance of communication in leadership.

There I was, the music minister, trying to get the choir ready to sing, yet I hadn’t even communicated with my mom, the accompanist, about the exact order of songs that we were going to sing.

And why hadn’t I done this? Because I hadn’t even communicated the final decision to myself.

I have a lot of blank books. I’m afraid to write in them. I don’t want to mess up the pages.

For years, I wouldn’t write down my lesson plans until after I’d taught them. I was afraid that my plan would go wrong.

When I was doing a lot of concerts, I often started the concerts without having a set playlist. I had an idea. But I was afraid I’d have a new idea mid-concert and then feel stuck.

I like to have a plan. But I like to be able to change the plan to fit the exact moment that it is executed.

Which…isn’t always good when working with a group.

The statement that I made at the beginning of this post was very true. My choir was stressed about what they were getting ready to do, but I wasn’t worried. I knew that they could—and would—sing well and sing the right songs at the right time—but they didn’t know it because I hadn’t communicated it to them. I had told them bits of pieces of information—each of which escaped my mouth as a plan entered my brain—but the plan hadn’t come together in their minds.

So…I started at the beginning, went step by step, laid out the plan, got everyone on the “same sheet of music” (literally), prayed, and then we went into the sanctuary and sang as well as we’d ever sung.

Lest I not communicate this properly: I am proud of my choir. I am proud to work with my choir. I believe in my choir. And I never doubt my choir—even when they doubt themselves.

I will work on my communication skills both at church and school. I will work to be a better professional leader. But I think I’ll also work to be a better communicator of appreciation, thanksgiving, and kindness. I hope you’ll join me. And I hope that together we’ll over-communicate love.

Trails of Love

It’s Fabio Napoleoni’s fault. Or maybe Linus from Peanuts.
But as I was walking through Hobby Lobby the week before Christmas,
Impossibly stealthily,
Dangling a set of wind chimes from each hand,
I found myself imagining that a trail of music notes was behind me,
Gently floating as bubbles blown into a breeze.
I mentioned this image to Barb My Art Teacher as we moved from aisle to aisle, but, honestly, I forgot about the experience until Allison My Guidance Counselor and I hung the wind chimes outside my classroom on Monday afternoon.
As the wind chimes once again dangled from my hands, I caught myself imagining that same trail of music notes—
Only this time I wasn’t absent-mindedly walking through the aisles of a large, retail store.
This time I was intentionally walking around my classroom,
Hoping that those music notes would subconsciously sink into my students’ lives and influence them for good.

Each Wednesday night before choir practice, I read a scripture passage from the week’s lectionary readings and offer a brief devotional thought. Last night as I read the passage, I noticed my mind once again returning to that trail of music notes—only this time it wasn’t just a trail of music notes that I imagined being left behind—it was a trail of freely given love and grace.

“For surely you have already heard of the commission of God’s grace that was given me for you… Of this gospel I have become a servant according to the gift of God’s grace that was given me by the working of his power…So that through the church the wisdom of God in its rich variety might now be made known.”(excerpts from Ephesians 3)

How powerful is this passage, friends? God has commissioned us—called us—given us the task—of sharing grace with the world—the grace given each person who believes—the grace that allows each of us the wisdom to see and know and believe in the vastness of God, the variety of God’s expression in this world, and the wisdom that exists around us!

So I shared my music-note-trail image with the choir,
Only I challenged them not only to leave music notes behind them
But also to leave notes of grace—
Nuggets of love—
So that everyone who walks behind may be subconsciously
affected by love
freed by grace and
changed for good.

May it be so with you, too, friends.
And may we, together, fill this world with trails of love.

Love's Broken Record

I’m afraid that sometimes I sound like a broken record.

I get a word, phrase, or thought in my mind and then share it aloud to whoever will listen. Sometimes the word, phrase, or thought will become part of my everyday vocabulary and/or belief system. Other times the word, phrase, or thought will pass after the record is changed.

I fear that my few faithful note readers and choir members receive the brunt of these mental skips—these recurring themes that I can’t easily let go.

I know that the choir heard one such skip as we prepared for December’s Christmas cantata. “Once you’ve found the love of Christ,” I’d say, “you can’t un-see it. You can’t un-know or un-feel it. Once you’ve experienced the peace of Christ, no matter what else happens—no matter how hard things may get—no matter how dark they may become—you can’t forget it. Because once you’ve experienced the light of Christ—really experienced it—you truly are changed.”

I’m pretty sure that I said something like this every time we practiced the song, “Once You’ve Seen The Star.” And I’m pretty sure that I got goose-bumps (also known as Holy Ghost Bumps) every time we sang it.

I suppose it’s no wonder, then, that I found my eyes filling with tears as the choir sang during worship yesterday morning. After a two week break during which the choir took a much-deserved break, we came together and remembered the song that connected to my heart two months ago and created a broken record that very well may never leave my mind.

Once you’ve seen the star lighting up the sky of a cold dark night, hope cannot be far
Once you’ve seen the star, like the dearest friend you have ever known, it bids you come, it leads you home…
Once you’ve heard the song of an angel choir, heaven touching earth, singing peace has come
Once you’ve heard the song, when it’s in your heart and you know it’s true, it lifts you up, it carries you…
Once you’ve found the child, every fear and doubt—come and lay them down to be reconciled
Once you’ve found the child, oh you can’t un-see, un-know, un-feel—for life is new and love is real.
Once you’ve found the child…

For better or for worse, there are many things that we can’t un-see, un-know, un-feel.
The birth of a baby.
The death of a loved one.
The moment of receiving joyful news.
The moment of receiving terrible news.
A successful achievement.
A frightening fall.
There are many things that change us.
There are many things we cannot forget.
Yet none is so powerful as encountering the
Pure, deep, unconditional love of God
Through the peace of Jesus Christ.

Friends: I hope that you’ve experienced this Love.
And I hope that you will forgive me when
Love’s Peace is my broken record.

Yes, I Have Faith In You

Yesterday was our annual Christmas cantata at church. The choir and I had been preparing for the morning’s service for the past couple of months and we’d been praying that the hour would be a meaningful worship experience for everyone involved.

Some songs were more difficult than others. Some motifs were quite challenging. Some beginnings were sloppy. Some endings were rough. The cantata was far from perfect. The choir was a bit worried about their ability to pull it off. And yet…I was never concerned.

As I held the door for my choir to enter the sanctuary yesterday—yes, I called them my choir because I love them—I smiled at them and offered words of encouragement. As one of my men walked by, he said something about hoping that they did okay.

I said, “You will. I have no doubt.”

He said, “You sure do have a lot more faith in us than we do in ourselves.”

“Yes, I do,” I thought. “Yes, yes I do.”

One of my friends once told me that even I knew there wasn’t a God, then I’d believe in God anyway.

Another friend once told me that I wear my heart on my sleeve and everything I own.

Both of those statements are very true.

And my choir member just added another one: I sure do have a lot more faith in people than they do in themselves.

On my tombstone or whatever else is put in place to remember my life, I want some variation of the phrase, “I believe in you,” written near my name—because if nothing else in this life, I believe in the good in people. I don’t live life with blinders. I know that there is a lot of evil in this world and that each of us battles our own demons. And I know that sometimes I struggle to believe in the good of some people. But the deeper the humanity that is seeking to grow, the more beautiful I find the person as he/she is being redeemed…and I am daily being redeemed as well.

So, yes, dear choir, I do probably have more faith in you than you have in yourselves…and the same goes for you, too, dear readers.

And for the record: Just as I predicted, the cantata was great.