“In a turnaround church, blood will be shed, and the blood will be yours.”
Immortal words of Pastor Real, an omen of troubles yet to come. Right now, it’s time to partayyy!! We have freedom here, sweet, sweet freedom. Pastor Real is not only very creative, and innovative, and a compelling speaker, but he also has a hands-off approach to leadership and lets us experiment away… it’s a very free environment compared to the world of tight buns (on your head, silly) and carefully edited conversation of our past experience. Without restriction, we are kids in a musical candy shop, and that music is becoming incredible. We write new songs. We use unique instrumentation and voicings. We add drama and visual arts. We do all kinds of shit we were never allowed to do. And miraculously, the door to secular music is open again. We regret the UPC led destruction of our cassettes and CDs. I reorder my Steely Dan collection immediately. The recordings, ha. (Like one person got that joke. Yeah, it was bad. Sue me.)
Yeah, about that devil music. In the UPC, we had attended a viewing of Hell’s Bells, a “shocking expose” about the evils of secular music. I remember being taught Hotel California was about the Church of Satan, I would get sooo creeped out hearing it on the radio…hey guess what? It has nothing to do with Anton LaVey at all. Fake news. Hotel California is about the evils of fame, a disturbingly accurate portrayal of not being able to return to anonymity once you’re living in the fishbowl. You can check out, but yep, you can’t really leave. I perform the song today, but it always makes me smirk thinking about how wrong I was. And that’s just one tiiiiny example. I was wrong about a lot of things. Probably still am.
Pastor Real encourages us to rediscover our secular music pursuits, how can you have any influence in people’s lives if you’re cloistered in the church?
DH joins a big band, and I at freaking last start singing jazz, my first love and what I had wanted to do in the first place. My premier gig coming out of secular shutdown is with a combo at an outdoor wedding, the weather is perfect and it’s amazing to have one of my dreams returned to me. When you see me perform and I’m throwing down like it’s the last time I will be ever be able to sing, it’s because at one time, I thought it was.
Pastor Real comes to one of DH’s gigs with us and buys me my first glass of wine in ten years. It is alien, but delicious. I’m a criminal. Get the cuffs, she’s guilty of Cabernet. Such debauchery.
The stricter church folk are less than thrilled that we are both playing “worldly” music. Uh oh. Pastor Real knows our hearts and doesn’t care, and understands playing in the professional world only serves to make our worship music even better. The team is expanding, and getting pretty freaking amazing. We have great times of fellowship (for some reason, this is the archaic term used when referring to social events in the church. The church just loves ancient words like narthex and vestibule. Hey church, no one knows what the hell you’re talking about.) and food (though Pastor Real, a pro chef, HATES potlucks. I agree, do you really want that lukewarm pot loaded with dried out overcooked pasta, tuna and peas? And why peas?? Always the peas. There must be a Pea Council. Ugh.)
We almost immediately have growing pains.
Remember those folks who came over from the strict Baptist church? Many were founding members of this church, 17 years before we arrived on the scene. Pastor Real changed the direction and effectively breathed new life into it just a few years ago, which is why it’s referred to as a turnaround church. Some of these founders are supportive, some were until their sacred cows got ground to sausage, but some have been a thorn in Pastor Real’s side since he arrived, and became our chronic headache as well. From here on, I will refer to this stricter segment, the ones who challenge us at every turn because we’re not biblical, or doctrinal, or modest, or whatever enough for them, as the Churchies. I don’t worry what they think of my writing, they would never make it past the cuss word in my chapter title.
Anyway, the Churchies aren’t so happy about all of this irritating growth and annoying new people with piercings that may not be in their ears and clothing that didn’t come from the Modesty Emporium.
This is why turnaround is so difficult, there will ALWAYS be those who want things the way they “used to be”. Churchies will say they want change, they really don’t. They say they want their church to grow, they really don’t. Change requires letting go of things they will never release from their tightly closed religious fists, and growing requires accepting outsiders who don’t look, sound, act, or smell like you. They might even bring in cardinal sins like smoking in the parking lot or wearing a string tank. Oh, the humanity!
Oh my God the conversations: “Well, when Pastor ____ was here, we did it like this.” or “When ____ was leading worship, the songs were so anointed.”
I have grown to hate the term anointed. It has a blanket use as proof that whatever you are lobbying for is an edict sent from on High. It’s putting God’s stamp of approval on an opinion.
Here’s a verse for ya: “Where the stable is empty, the stalls are clean.”
Growth is messy. Good business owners know this, when a venture is rapidly growing you have to ride the wave by the seat of your pants, adjusting along the way to larger leadership. It requires constant readjustment and creativity, and sometimes sloppy but necessary solutions. If you have a bunch of cattle, your barn is literally full of shit. If it’s spotless, it looks good, but you have accomplished nothing. It’s something many don’t understand about growth, and a roadblock in every single church we led. People want growth, but don’t want the mess. But you can’t have the cattle without the shit. People are messy, and they have shit going on, that’s why we are supposed to be there to help.
Tidy, it ain’t.
This church is growing exponentially. The Churchies don’t like the mess. People are visiting from any and all walks of life, and during one well attended meeting, a newcomer stands up and says how much he loves this place, how accepting and awesome, you can come to church and sing together, hear a great life changing message and then have a goddam donut. Or something like that, I don’t remember the exact sentence, but that was DEFINITELY the exact cuss word of this innocent newcomer, so excited about finding this place and inadvertently offending half the flock. It was the cuss heard round the world. The Churchies are appalled that he swore right there in the church, and it tore through the gossip chain (whoops, prayer chain) and they’re off, and suddenly it’s not such a great thing that these new people are dirtying up their pristine church body.
Now if you understand the life of Jesus, and who he spent his time with, you understand how totally absurd this is, the tiny things that the Churchies would get upset about. When Jesus talks about straining at a gnat, he ain’t kidding. These guys would strain after plankton.
We are getting edgier and more passionate with the music, more freewheeling basking in the presence of God than head bowed and hands folded, more rock and relevant than staid and stodgy. We even have the nerve to introduce electric *gasp* guitar. We are top notch troublemakers.
The ridiculous part about people being upset about this is that it is the late 1990s and electric guitars, rock music and the Beatles have been around for fifty years. Isn’t it okay for the church to catch up? How many years do we have to wait? A thousand? I swear, some of those churchies STILL wouldn’t die, immortally pointing a crooked mummified finger in our faces for the latest offense, voice creaking out like an ancient hinge, “Buuut we UUUUSED to do it THAAAT wayyyy…”
We like clapping (two and four, the way God intended) raising hands if you so desire, really just having the freedom to worship the way you would like. Some of them don’t like this either, and we get complaints about that. HOO BOY can people complain about music, and it’s rarely to us, they almost always go tattling to the Senior Pastor, who could probably write his own book about all of the complaints he fielded about us.
Drums are too loud, horns are as well, and what the hell is Monica wearing anyway??
I feel a Top Ten list coming on…
Worship Leader Gone Wild 