Family Visit at Fellowship Church

I’m one of those kids who grew up far removed from extended family–we lived in East Tennessee while my Mom’s family was in West Tennessee and my Dad’s family was in Louisiana.  We’d see the cousins, aunts, and uncles on annual trips, and it always amused me to know exactly what each aunt and uncle would say when they saw me:  ”Oh, my goodness!  Look at how you’ve grown!”  

One year it was less amusing than others and I started complaining to Mom about the “look how you’ve grown” chorus.  ”What’s the big deal?  Nobody else ever makes a fuss over me growing.”  

Mom wisely explained that, while I was growing all along, it wasn’t as obvious to people who saw me every week, because the changes were more subtle.  It’s the people who didn’t sit through the process who most easily notice and appreciate the change from one year to the next.

Today I worshiped at Fellowship Church for the first time since July of last year.  Fellowship is my home church, but I don’t get to attend because of my duties at Powell Church on Sunday mornings.  Today I had the morning off from Powell and went with my family to Fellowship.

And today I got a taste of what Aunt Mae felt when she saw me at Thanksgiving.  ”Oh my goodness….”

When I was on staff at Fellowship there wasn’t a lot of growth to be seen.  Change came hard and at a high cost, and every inch gained by those of us who wanted to see Fellowship grow and progress in ministry effectiveness was matched by an inch lost to those who wanted to see Fellowship retreat to its glory days.  Proposed improvements to worship center technology were shot down as “extravagant” and “self-indulgent.”  When we added an audition to our worship-volunteer selection process we were dismissed as “shallow” and “all about the show.”  Concerns about aesthetics in worship and production values were derided as “fleshly,” “frustrating the Spirit,” and “immature.”

I don’t know much about the “how” behind the changes that have taken place–for all I know it may still be a battle of inches, but I doubt it because 1) the differences can be measured in feet and yards now, and 2) the rate of change appears to be accelerating.  The “how” is not for me to know, anyway.  I can sure see and discern the “what,” though!

Here are the markers of growth I saw just in the service today:

1. Rick Dunn referred to The Pastor of Children’s Ministry as “Pastor Gwen” from the stage.  Back in the day her predecessor (also a woman and for all practical purposes also a pastor) had the title “Director of Children’s Ministry” simply because the church leadership couldn’t abide a woman having the “pastor” title.  Fellowship’s ability to call things by their real names is remarkable and commendable.
2. There’s been a noticeable bump in the quality of in-house video production.  The interview with the college student about serving in Children’s Ministry was spot-on, not only in its writing and content, but also in its videography and editing.  Nicely done!
3. Someone’s paying attention to aesthetics and design in the graphic arts.  The onscreen packaging of the sermon topic was fantastic.  I don’t know, but I suspect the message-planning horizon at Fellowship is approaching or even exceeding 3 months now.
4. Someone’s paying attention to onstage lighting.  The color of the scrim wash now coordinates with the palette of the screen graphic behind the song lyrics.
5. The speaker can now advance his onscreen slides from the stage with a handheld remote without having to give cues to the production booth!  Sweetness.
6. There’s a lot of new technology on the stage in general, which means there’s money being spent on making things work well.
7. The band not only plays together really well, but the playing is very musical.  Noticeable variety in dynamics and energy levels makes this artist very happy.

Kudos to the staff and volunteers who are putting together Sunday mornings at Fellowship.  You’ve come far, and at least one person has noticed.

Easter at Powell Church, or “The Right Tool for the Job”

Yesterday was my first Easter since coming on board at Powell Church to lead the music for their traditional service.  Great crowd, enthusiastic singing, and several lessons learned:

1. The folks who attend the traditional service will embrace new things if presented well.  We led out with my up-tempo, power-chord-driven arrangement of “Christ the Lord is Risen Today,” and though there were some raised eyebrows at the first chords, by the modulation on the last verse everyone was into it.  No clapping, but real singing.  They also sang out on the Getty hymn “See What a Morning,” but we had prepared them well by presenting it as an anthem a month ago, a call to worship 3 weeks ago, and finally a congregational song 2 weeks ago.  It’ll stay in the rotation now!
2. The 16-voice choir I have can sound like 32 or more voices if given the right song to sing.  We did a choral arrangement of the Southern Gospel classic “Hallelujah!  We Will Rise” (click here for a YouTube video of the Chuck Wagon gang’s version) and wow, did they sing out.  I don’t know yet if they just liked it more than what I’ve been programming or if there’s something in the arrangement that just made it easier to open up and sing.  I suspect it’s the former reason rather than the latter.
3. The congregation’s value of reserve and reverence in worship doesn’t extend to Southern Gospel singing.  Heart-felt, enthusiastic, extended applause after the anthem rather than the polite kind just poured from them!
4. I can program Southern Gospel music in a church service and it won’t kill  me.  At least I’m still alive right now.
5. Peer review is a wonderful thing.  A retired music teacher/music minister in his late sixties visited us for the first time yesterday and made it a point to compliment us on the service.  I love compliments from the congregation, but compliments from fellow musicians/ministers who understand what it takes to pull things off are golden indeed.

I hate it, but it looks like I’m going to have to put Thomas Tallis and Lloyd Pfautsch back on the shelf and go shopping for choral arrangements of the classics from Southern Gospel’s heyday.  It’s not that Tallis and Pfautsch aren’t good, valuable, and worthy, but they just don’t grab this congregation emotionally.

And here’s the good news–this congregation wants to be grabbed by the emotions and stirred up!  As my dad always taught me–”you have to get the right tool for the job.”

Back in the Saddle Again (again)

I’d forgotten to mention that Powell Church streams video of the contemporary services on its site, including last Sunday when I led the worship.  You can watch it by clicking here.

 Highlights:

• 13:00–I break my D string and have to lay down the guitar for the rest of the set
• 15:20–during my setup for the offering, I say to the visitors “This service is not for you” in an attempt to excuse them from the offering.  Brilliant.

Other than those two wee issues, I think it came off well!

Back in the saddle again, if only for one Sunday

I didn’t mention it at the time (or since), but Greg asked me back in Novemberish to fill in for him in Powell Church’s contemporary service.  He needed to be in Taiwan (check the link for details on his blog) and would need coverage Dec 28 and Jan 4.  I took the Jan 4 slot.

And it went well (discounting a broken string, but that’s how it goes).  I had dreaded the experience because it would 1) mean a tough morning doing the contemporary and traditional services, and 2) I hadn’t led worship with a band doing contemporary-style music in a long time, and wasn’t sure if I was up to it.

The surprise came on Saturday night as we were working through the opener “Seasons of Love” and I looked at my long-time friend Amy at the piano and said, “Dang, it–I miss this.”  There’s something about running a band rehearsal, feeling our way through a worship set that just thrills and energizes me, and I’d forgotten how that felt.  It was a good experience, and I’m sure to miss it.

Here’s the set (I’m covering for Greg, so I ought to follow through Greg-style, no?):

• Opener:  ”Seasons of Love” (from Rent)
• All Creatures of Our God and King (Davis arrangement)
• Everyday (Hillsong)
• Love the Lord (Lincoln Brewster)
• Enough (Tomlin)
• Closer/Communion:  Take My Life and Let It Be

I especially loved having folks who attend both services come up after the contemporary service with puzzled looks on their faces, saying, “I had no idea you could do both!”  

Who knew?

Catholics and Beauty

Last Thursday at the beach The Climber and I took a walk while the rest of the crew went to a museum.  Here we are at the end of the walk:

Me and The Climber

There’s a church down the road from our condo, and we headed over there to walk through and see what we could see.  It’s a Catholic church (Holy Family Catholic) that sits between an Episcopal church and a Methodist church.  It was a great visit.

I never noticed it before, but when I want to be in a beautiful worship space, it’s Catholic churches that draw me.  The Catholics may have some things wrong and sideways, but they get the beauty thing better than anyone else.  They sure can make a place feel set apart and holy.  I was surprised at how it moved me.

Why is that?  What happened when Protestants walked away from Catholicism that left us with a stunted appreciation for and commitment to beauty and art?  Is it our love of text, of letters and words?  Is it simply that we needed to differentiate ourselves from them?

It occurred to me that I might eventually end up–get ready–catholic.  I don’t agree with all the stuff Catholics believe, but that’s becoming more and more true about my current church, too.  And if you follow my taking-the-upstream-path-through-history logic in Staying Put to its ultimate conclusion, it makes sense…

Funny note–the Catholics also have a sense of humor.  Here’s what the sign by the sanctuary door said:

Please do not leave until the end of the Mass.  –God.

I can so work with that!

Powell Church

Yesterday was my last Sunday at Fellowship for a while.  The Lovely One, the boys, and I have attended FEFC since Mother’s Day 2007, and it’s been good and refreshing to hang out in the congregation with friends and people who know and love us well. 

Next Sunday we’ll be at the beach in Hilton Head, and the Sunday after that will be my first as the choir director for Powell Church’s blended service.  It’s a part-time gig, and that’s exactly what I want–no staff or elder meetings to fool with, just rehearsal and service-leading obligations.  I’ve met with the pastor GW Boles a couple of times, and he and I will work together well.

And there’s a bonus–I’ll be working with Greg Adkins, whom I met during my tenure at Fellowship and have since followed via his blog.  We never got to really hang out, but I admired his work at West Towne Christian Church and since his move to Powell Church.

What Would You Do?

Had an eye-opening conversation with best-buddy Jason Cole yesterday.  Jason’s really good at what he does, is transitioning between jobs right now, and consequentially is facing more options and opportunities for his future than ever before.  I’m really happy for him, but he’s still facing some hard decisions–where to live, what career path, etc.

We were talking about all the possibilities when he stopped and asked me, “What would you do if you were in my position?”

I used to be quick with advice and opinion when asked (and even when not asked).  There’s something in me that absolutely loves to hand out pearls of wisdom to people.  It’s the same thing in me that loves to be needed, respected, sought after, and admired.  Frankly, it’s the thing, the need that has been a major driving force in my life to this point.

What was so eye-opening for me yesterday was the fact that, for once, I didn’t have “you ought to do such and such” advice for my friend.  And, for once, I was glad.

I’m learning how limited my perspective is, and how I absolutely have no clue what I would actually do if I were in someone else’s position.  I only know my history–what I have done in and with the positions and situations into which God has placed me.  What I do comes from who I am, and who I am grows out of what I have experienced.  And the reason I am not in my friend’s position is that I haven’t experienced what he has experienced.

And God in his infinite wisdom has not granted me Jason’s position, probably because he knows I’d screw it up. 

So I listened and asked questions and told stories from our shared history when Jason and I worked together years ago. 

And we both became wiser and better without an answer, without knowing what to do.

Mad Church Disease and Why I’m Not Necessarily Mad

Anne Jackson’s getting a lot of blog press these days with her request for stories and data to support a book she’s writing titled Mad Church Disease.  But more importantly, she’s a regular commenter on themattchews’ blog, and Mr. Mattchews is one of my best buddies.  He knows my story, and has been oh so gently twisting my arm to get me to participate in the surveys Anne’s conducting as part of her research.

Well, last night I gave up and just did it.  I’m writing this article to explain why I didn’t want to.

My initial response to the Mattchews was “I fear my present perspective would skew the sample too much,” and I really mean it.  My experiences as a church staff member have left me fairly jaded and cynical about the church, and though I know I’ll recover, I also know that now is not a good time for me to be talking church stuff with anyone.

To which the Mattchews replied, “That’s why you need to take the survey.  Your story needs to be told.”

My second reason goes a little deeper:  I don’t want to pile on and give undue weight and credence to the “poor pastor who gets abused and screwed up by his congregation” mythology.  I don’t know what direction Anne Jackson will take in her tome, but I hope it won’t go that way because I don’t buy it anymore.  It feels good every October during Pastor Appreciation month to hear the stats about pastors leaving “the ministry” and be petted and pitied and given an encouraging gift certificate because “church work is such hard work and our pastors are all depressed because we’re so hard on them,” but something tells me that the whole story isn’t being told.

Yes, churches are hard on their leaders.  Yes, pastors do flame out, often spectacularly.  Yes, church people can be unbelievably cruel to pastors and their families.  I have earned all those merit badges and I get it.

But what I’m not buying anymore is the idea that it’s the church’s fault that church work eats pastors alive.  Pastors are not passive agents in the formation of their congregations.  When a churchy person bites the arm off a pastor or refuses to serve in children’s church or clucks her tongue when the pastor’s kids aren’t exactly perfect, there’s something going on beyond a simple victim/perp story.  Congregations take on the characteristics of their leadership, and they learn how to express disagreements with their leadership from how their leadership expresses disagreements with those outside the church.

Really, it reminds me of those stories that pop up on the news every now and again about the guy who breeds pit bulls and is shocked when one of them mauls his visiting Aunt Margaret.  The breeder is always surprised when pit bulls do what they’ve been bred to do.

Ever heard the “I’m a (insert denominational label here) because we’re more biblical than everyone else” sermon?  Trust me, Baptists aren’t the only ones doing this–it’s pandemic in the church.  These sermons teach congregations that people who disagree with us aren’t just mistaken, they’re less committed to truth than we are.  It shouldn’t surprise us, then, when people in these congregations are unable to disagree with a pastor in a loving, accepting way without presupposing malicious motives or deficient morals.  All of a sudden, the inclusion of an electric guitar on the worship stage isn’t a stylistic issue, it’s a moral issue because I disagree with the decision and don’t know how else to handle it.

The same dynamic occurs with the “10 Reasons Why Dan Brown (of DaVinci Code fame) is Wrong and Going to Hell” sermon and the “Why the Homosexuals are Coming for Your Children” sermon and the “People Who Have Faith Give Extra Money to Missions” sermon.

Until the gospel becomes less about the preaching and defense of certain propositions (biblical inerrancy, original sin, substitutionary atonement, etc.) and more about how Jesus enables us to actually love each other and get along with each other (Jesus is in the business of reconciling all things together again in himself), church is going to continue to be a dangerous place to be and a suicidal place to presume to lead. 

The end of the Church Hoppers?

Back in March I recommended this blog written by a cadre of unchurched 20-somethings who decided to go visit a string of churches in the Cincinnati area and report their experiences.  They accepted recommendations from friends and commenters on churches to check out, and their reporting was refreshingly candid and honest.  They visited all kinds of churches, from old-school Catholic to ultra-contemporary Charismatic (they even visited Solid Rock Church, home of the unfortunate Big Butter Jesus statue).  It’s the kind of feedback that churches desperately need and rarely want to hear.  I loved it.

It never occurred to me that the Church Hoppers would actually find a church they liked and would settle into, since it didn’t seem that was the goal of the hopping.  Until, that is, about a month ago when they visited a church that elicited the kind of praise and enthusiasm from the hoppers that surprised me and made me really pay attention.  They’ve hung up the hopping for now and are "diving in" at this church, embracing it as a spiritual home for them.

So, what church wins the prize?  Who took the hop out of the hoppers?  Get ready….

Heritage Universalist Unitarian Church.

I know, I know–it’s a tragedy because the UU’s don’t do the Jesus thing and aren’t a real church and are a cult, etc., etc.  But if we will actually listen to the Hoppers, we can learn valuable lessons about what they experienced with the UU’s that they never experienced with "legit" churches.  (There’s a whole post to be written about whether or not "legit" churches even want to learn these lessons, but that’s for later.) 

You can read the posts yourself (the follow-up letters from the pastor and welcoming committe rep are well worth the read), but I think the whole thing boils down to these distinctions:  the "legit" churches offered answers, and the UU’s offered good questions and authentic listening.  The "legit" churches presented Truth, and the UU’s made room for discovery.  The "legit" churches showed that they knew their stuff, and the UU’s showed that you didn’t have to know it all to be one of them.

If those distinctions were presented to me without the labels and I were asked, "Where do you see the spirit of Christ operating?", I’d have picked door number 2. 

There is a tragedy here, but it isn’t that the Hoppers found the UU’s.  It’s that they never found a church that had learned how to listen more and explain less.  It’s that we’ve spent too much time refining what we believe about Christ and not enough time paying attention to what He did and said, and how.

2RC 2.0

In this post about our Easter Sunday visit to Two Rivers Church, I had a little fun with the fact that they were using PowerPoint to display song lyrics.  This Sunday, however, they had taken a couple of steps forward, using a live video feed of the worship leader as a background to the lyrics.  I didn’t recognize the program generating the lyrics, but it definitely wasn’t PowerPoint.  Much better.

Additionally, they made use of their gel-changers on their onstage lighting, morphing the color from song to song effectively. 

Very nicely done, guys.  Props to you.