When I first started participating in music in church, the position of “Worship Leader” didn’t quite exist yet, at least not the way we know it today (remember now, I’m old). That title evolved over time. What started as choir directors and program directors evolved into Worship Pastors and Worship Architects. If we look at what those titles imply, it can be quite confusing for those outside of our belief system. What is a worship leader, a worship pastor, a worship architect, or a worship director? To begin the conversation I think we need to look at the word worship (see my previous blog here). From there, lets start talking.
A job title implies action. It speaks to the specifics of what that occupation actually does. Doctors help the sick, lawyers uphold the law (or find loopholes), electricians work with wires and electricity, carpenters work with wood, general contractors oversee construction… you get the idea. Throw worship leader in there. What does that even mean? Can a human lead someone else in worship? My crusty old self tends to think not.
Worship cannot be controlled, manipulated or even inspired. Worship is something unique to the human being in God’s design to be in relationship with him. The Holy spirit is the only one who can change a heart, break through sin, inspire, instruct, and redeem. He doesn’t need a worship leader to do that. So who do we think we are when we call our selves leaders of worship?
Let’s be honest. Most of us are just scared musicians that love God and are trying to do our very best in making music that’s honest, pleasing, palatable, error-free, accessible, and participatory to the majority of people that make up our gatherings. And yet we are given these titles that have implied authority that making other people worship is our job.
Don’t get me wrong, I believe that all of us are pastors the moment we invest ourselves relationally, spiritually and emotionally in another human being. We often pull from the tool bag of our own experiences, books we’ve read, songs we’ve heard as tools to help shepherd, lead and guide. That’s what being a pastor is all about. It’s not about being a scholar, a theologian, a professional or even a graduate. It is an advocate. Someone that is willing to take on the case of another.
So what do people like me, that have a ridiculous title that makes no sense or have any bearing on what I am actually doing other than the cultural assumption that we have all come to accept, supposed to do?
Let’s start being honest. It is a bit of a joke in my church about how much I hate being called “Pastor Bobby”. My name is Bobby. I am a musician that works at Green Bay Community Church, believes in God but fumbles through living that out. I have a friend in CA that his FaceBook profile just says “Musician at _____ Church.” I found that to be refreshing because I know exactly what he does. He plays music. At that church. What happens spiritually in the room on Sundays or any day of the week is up to the Holy Spirit. He will continue to play music. Because that church values music. As my church values music. I am unbelievably grateful for how much my church values music. And I am grateful that my rants about music and worship aren’t squashed (cautioned, but not squashed).
I have a Master’s Degree in Christian Education from Azusa Pacific University. It hangs on the wall in my office right next to my Telecaster (my Telecaster is more helpful in my job than that degree). I am proud that I graduated and that piece of paper certainly helped me in landing my job at my church. But it does not make me a pastor or a worship leader. If anything it is a liar. People see that and assume that I know more about God than I do. That I have been a better student of God’s word than them and therefore I have authority over them and should listen when I speak. Maybe that’s why I keep it on my wall because I secretly long for that kind of validation. The truth is, I feel like I know less about God today than I did when they handed me that diploma. I am more aware of my brokenness and my wrong strategies to try and fulfill the longings of my heart that only God can fill.
What I do know is I love playing music. It helps me identify with God as a creator. He created heavens, earth and humans, and when I create I reflect that image of him as a creator. Is that worship, I suppose you could say it is. That sentence is what drives me in my job, more than the hope or desire that people will really be “moved to worship” because of the art I am creating (or copying as most of our songs are covers). Art is subjective. Not everyone will like me or my art. Is that the measure of a worship leader. Likability? Creativity? I don’t know.
I propose we change the landscape of music in our churches. Lets give more room for the holy spirit to do what he is capable of doing, and stop expecting him to show up during improvisational, unscripted moments girded on a deep etherial synth pad. Lets stop asking our church to worship with us and lets call it what it is. We are playing songs that speak to our hope, faith and devotion to Christ. Whether or not someone is actually worshipping in their hearts (or not) is not up to us or even in our realm of control. Let our appreciation of this incredible gift of music be the vehicle and tool that can point to the truth of who God is, how he works and how much he loves us and let people be the ones to decide that he is worthy to be worshipped, not wait for the moment of the song where they can “really worship.”
I love my family. I love my job. I love music. I love people. I love God. (not necessarily in that order). All of the above are not easy, but messy. The messier they get, the more my love has a chance to grow. Lets invite messy into our jobs and see what happens.
If you are still reading this, thank you, this was a long one. More crustiness to come.
Crusty Old Worship Leader 