One of the most eye-opening moments for me in worship leading was when (apparently) my eyes weren’t open.
After services one Sunday a man I greatly respect approached me, encouraging me to think about my platform leadership posture. He shared that my habit of closing my eyes during much of the songs might come off as distant, disconnected from the congregation. I, of course, took this to heart and immediately set about finding ways to improve in light of his gentle prompt.
Wrong.
I sulked. I fought him in my mind and, yeah, I won those debates. Handily. But even while keeping his advice at a distance, there was something he said that I couldn’t shake. It was this:
“Wayne, obviously you are connecting deeply with the Lord as you lead. I just wish you’d take us there along with you.”
That one landed and has helped me think more clearly about being a leader of gathered worship ever since.
Naming It
But first, a caveat. As we all know, good form follows on the heels of a good foundation. The heart is the seat and center—the very engine—of worship. If it is found to be in disrepair, none of our actions matter to God, no matter how practiced or refined (1 Sam. 16:7; Ps. 51; Mal. 1:6-14). The good news, of course, is that we are not required to bring a perfect heart—just a humble, thankful one; a heart knowing both its frailties and its forgiven-ness. So, we’ll begin there. Acknowledging this inward-out paradigm of serving in worship, let’s jump into the conversation together.
Platform presence. From a technical standpoint, this is the skill set in question. For better or worse, we are on a literal platform most of the time when leading others in gathered worship. So yes, there are some basic rules applying to the people and presentation dynamics of such a thing. Now, if you absolutely hate the term platform, let’s try the idea of public sacred leadership. But regardless of where you land on the worship styles spectrum, what we do in front of people matters, helps or hurts, and often without our realizing the real effects of our actions and demeanor. In that vein, let me offer up two broader principles (among many, I am sure) and one action step as we seek to grow into better worship leaders and avoid repeating my “eyes wide closed” moment from years ago.
Principle 1: Be Yourself but Remember Your Role
The last decade or so of worship teaching, conferences, and blogs have one item almost always making “the list”—authenticity is key. Phony (at least the perception of it) is bad, and the blowback probably comes as much as anything from a generational transition regarding the role of reflection, lament, and repentance in our gatherings, as well as an increased openness to a broader range of emotional response among the saints as we come together weekly. For someone who approaches a service with these expectations to find the folks on the platform smiling broadly the whole time, this could come off as inauthentic to them. But on the other hand, someone walking into a service with the opposite expectations could think they’re being led by a grouch.
The perception of authenticity can be a pretty slippery slope to find your balance on, but here’s the thing that keeps us heading in the right direction, and it’s a bit of an “unsolvable” tension, I think:
We must be ourselves.... but we are called to be ourselves as we serve others. (1 Peter 4:10)
Our natural tendencies need to be checked against what is most helpful for the congregation. Notice I said “checked”, not “chucked.” This is not a call to ignoring the ways the Lord has shaped you. In fact, if he has called you to ministry in this manner, then He has been preparing you and will continue to shape you for His glory in this role. What we are merely saying is that sometimes we don’t actually know how we come off to those we are leading. Due diligence in serving our people demands we at least be open to the question, and that question is two-fold:
1) What does my body posture, facial expression, and general countenance call our people to? And is this what I actually want to call them to?
2) Does what I am doing invite them to engage and linger, or simply make them want to get it over as quickly as possible?
How in the world do we get at some answers here? Why, by going to our second principle, of course.
Principle 2: Match the Moment
Easy, right? Apparently, not so much.
I tried to get folks clapping one time with a really upbeat song. Couldn’t figure out the dull response until I realized I had forgotten to led them in taking the communion elements. Bread and juice in your hands makes it hard to clap, I guess. Whatever.
Another Sunday I had our drummer rip into a huge toms-n-kick feel… after we had just spent some really quiet, sobering moments together. Pretty sure we got all of the fine folks peeled off the ceiling by the next service. Funny now, but in both cases my miscalculation of the emotional and spiritual temperature in the room achieved the exact opposite of what I intended.
The same thing goes with our demeanor on the platform (public sacred leadership). There needs to be a decent link between what we are all engaged in and how our bodies and faces represent that moment in time. Think of it like plot holes and factual or character inconsistencies in a novel. The bigger the gap, the more people do what? They check out. Disconnect. In some way they say to themselves this isn’t real.
That makes me super sad. The greatest truth in the Universe, somehow flattened and greyed because of our unintended messaging. Now, yes—of course—our actions (excellent or not so much) are not in any way what make worship “happen.” We can rest assured that the finished work of Christ and the indwelling of His Spirit are what gain us access to the Father and the kind of vibrant interactions He intends for us as local congregations each week. Still, if we are to take seriously our job of serving and helping while performing some kind of role in front of people, we need to be sure what we are doing is actually helpful. Make sense? Look, this isn’t just a modern worship dilemma stemming from the fact that you use a band to lead, like this is a worship vs “performance” debate. Put a single guy in front of the congregation as a song leader, and it’s the very same thing.
If he looks bored or distracted, chances are the congregation will be as well. And they’ll want it all to end soon. Somehow I think this is not what we are aiming for.
Which leads us to our next-step…
Mr. Director, I’m ready for my close-up now…
Video.
Ughhh. I get it, I get it. Nobody likes to review themselves on-screen, but there really is no other way to get at this. Unless of course you are brave enough to have someone else view and critique you personally. Since I am betting most of us would rather walk over hot coals, let’s cue up the services and take a look. But here’s what I want you to do: turn the sound off completely. For the moment we are not interested at all in whether you can actually sing or play an instrument. Watch the service order (and the lyric cues if present) to get a sense of whether or not your demeanor is a good match for the moment. Also, remember that a good match for the moment has a range of “helpful” that has much to do with your own personality and that of your church. No clones required here, but we do want to make adjustments that don't just minimize distractions and disconnects but actually encourage and invite people to a full-hearted, full-minded response.
To get you primed for what to look for, here are some folks who have been known to check into our services on the platform from time to time:
Debbie Downer—she’s straight up, outright sad. Maybe she’s just concentrating really hard on her music. Maybe she’s in a dark, dark place. Hard to tell from here.
Angry Hank—probably just misplaced intensity, but Hank might actually scare some folks out of their seats and out the door, ne’er to return. Another good reason to have separate children’s programming; they could be scarred for life.
Cheer Captain Stephanie—part of our role is to be cheerleaders, proclaiming with the right exuberance the goodness and mercies of God, but Stephanie LIVES for cheering. Sometimes it can be hard to define “over the top”, but if people are more likely to recoil than engage, you’ve likely crossed the line. Pack the pompoms, and try your best to take it down a notch.
Oliver Stone—would take some heavy equipment to get this dude to groove. True, some people should NOT dance in front of others but this guy appears to be hiding in plain sight or playing the role of “tall tree that shall not be swayed by anything… ever.”
You get the point: the people we so desperately want to encounter and honor God in our gatherings are taking their cues (in some measure) from us. Are we signaling to them a warm, honest invitation? Indifference? Boredom? Frustration? Reverence? Anticipation? Humility? Celebration?
I am sure there have been elements of all of the above characters in my leading over the years. Sort of a Fantastic Four of Worship Leading Fails. But, thanks to my friend’s gentle reminder that he really wanted to worship alongside me, I hope to be getting a little better along the way.
You can, too.
Now, go watch some video. And be yourself, but remember your role. Oh yeah, and match the moment. Now, go watch some video.
Wayne Stewart has been serving as Worship Arts Pastor at Christ Community Church in Ames, Iowa since 2010. For more than two decades, his passion has centered on helping people grow into a bigger understanding and experience of worship—the privilege and power of knowing, meeting with and walking with God. You can catch a deeper sense of Wayne’s heart and teaching at worshipisnosmallmatter.com. His new book, “Bigger < Maybe Our Worship Is Just Too Small” offers both leaders and laypersons biblical scholarship and practical insight and is available in paperback, audiobook, and Kindle format at Amazon.com.
