Tag: funny

I’m preparing music to lead at a conference coming up, and in doing so I get to spend a lot of time listening to potential songs and a diverse array of worship leaders and their different tendencies.  I have come to a tentative conclusion: the more famous you are as a worship leader, the more obscure are the things you can get away with saying as interludes between songs.  And the shorter the sentence and farther from context, the better.  Three word phrases like “faith is rising” or “sing it prophetically” have the most impact as obscure worship-phrases (OWP for short).

In an effort to increase effectiveness and urban appeal among worship-leaders, I’ve compiled the following Guide to Obscure Appropriateness in Leading Worship, or GOAL-W for short.  Using this scoring system, you will be able to determine not only your level of obscurity and thus greatness, but where you are most fit as a worship leader to serve.

Handy GOAL-W

1. You slip in the name of a lesser known Old Testament prophet.  +2 points.  +3 for each usage of Melchizedek.
2. You forego using a verb.  “Jesus Glory Beautiful” as an example.  +1 point.
3. You never open your eyes and are able to switch between songs and toss out an OWP +3 points.
4. You use a Scripture reference, but only the address.  “1 Chronicles 3:4” as an example.  +2 points for New Testament, +3 points for Old Testament.
5. That Scripture reference is Ezekiel 23:19-20 +10 additional points.
6. You use the phrase “close your eyes and imagine with me” -10 points.
7. You utilize the word “shekinah” +3 points for first use, -5 points for each subsequent usage.
8. You instruct the audience to turn to their neighbor and say something. -25 points and automatic 5-minute timeout. (we’ll excuse one time per service for the purpose of reminding folks that this is corporate worship.  After that, timeout.)
9. Your three word sentence becomes a 5 minute story about what God is teaching you right now.  -5 points.  We didn’t ask you to give the sermon, just lead the music and keep your talking short and obscure, music (wo)man.
10. The sound guy claims there was a “feedback issue” when he cuts the mic off halfway through your story.  +4 points for the sound guy.
11. You sing your OWP after you say it, for emphasis.  +3 points.
12. You turn that sung OWP into an impromptu chorus and encourage others to begin singing “bring shekinah Amos arise” over and over.  +5 points for every minute you can keep in going.
13. You utilize any of the following words/phrases in your OWP:

“dry bones” +1 point.

“purpose-driven” +2 points.

“emphatic” +1 point.

“sheep and goats” +2 points.

“prodigal” +3 points.

“Mark Driscoll” +5 points, unless it is part of a story, which has previously been outlawed, and will result in a -6 point score.

“amber bock” +2 points.

“effervescent” +4 points.

“Infinite improbability” +3 points.  If followed by the word “drive”, +10 points.

“horsemen” or “apocalypse” +3 points.

Scoring Chart:

-40 or below:  Maybe it’s time to just cut the word “shekinah” completely out of your vocabulary.  And while I’m at it, I think you need to consider a job as a story-teller.

-40 to -10:  You are definitely a talker, but either you are not obscure enough, or you got caught off guard by the rule against having folks turn to their neighbor and say “neighbor….”

-10 to 0: You seem well fitted for a job in a small, quiet church where the last worship leader was a real talker.  A -35 guy who gave a five minute intro to every song.

1 to 15: You are the type of worship leader who does more dancing than talking.  You’ve got the Dave Matthews/Carlos Whittaker feet thing, and occasionally throw out a one-liner.  You’re a mysterious guy.

15-20:  You’re no Charlie Hall, but you are gunning for him.  People come up to you after church and say things like “what did you mean when you said…________” You’re on your way.

20 and above: Michael W. Smith doesn’t read my blog, to my knowledge.  But if he did, he’d have to admit this is where he scores.  He makes Obscure Worship Phraseology into an art form, and nothing less.

I hope you’ve enjoyed my fun poke at one of the things that makes me laugh about Christians.

I just want to give you a heads up.  When you get to heaven, and you’re waiting in line for the all-you-can-eat crab legs, you’re going to introduce yourself to the guy in front of you in line.  (Since it’s heaven, and there’s no sin, lines are just an indicator of the most popular dish.  And let’s be honest, anything involving cream of mushroom soup will take a back seat to the crab legs.)  The guy in line will just be chatting it up, and slip into conversation with you that he is one of the original twelve Apostles.

You are going to be compelled to ask him his name.  And unless he is Peter, James, John, Matthew, or Thomas, you are going to need to get your poker face ready to pretend like you remember him being mentioned in the Bible.  I’ll default to the fact that my English translation of the scriptures probably spelled their name differently… “Oh, Bartholomew, huh?  Yeah, my translation must’ve just called you ‘not Peter’…”

Today I want to warn you of a second problem you might run into.  Our crab leg-anticipating friend might turn, look you in the eyes, and say “my name is Judas.”

There’s no reason to panic.  You didn’t take a wrong turn on the way to the buffet and somehow end up waiting in line for a side-order of eternal torment.  There’s no need to duck if Judas leans in to try and kiss you on the cheek.

There was another Judas in the “top 12.”  Talk about getting a bum deal.  Every time he is even mentioned in Scripture it says “Judas (not Iscariot).”  That’s like introducing myself as Benjamin (not Franklin or Button) each time I talked to someone.  Or like a friend of ours whose dad is named “Johnny Cash.”  Welcome to the same conversation every time you ever meet someone.

But at least for Johnny its an association with a famous-in-a-good-way person.  Having the name Judas in heaven is like wearing a “Hello, my name is Adolph Hitler” sticker at the world’s largest Bar-Mitzvah.

So cut the guy a little slack, and try desperately to think of another conversation you can have with him.  He’s tired of pointing people to Luke 6:14-16 and having to highlight that his name shows up right before the more famous Judas.

Oh, and avoid calling him “the other Judas.”  After all, I think Iscariot earned exclusive rights to being second in any list of Judases.