Recently an acquaintance in my men’s group, an accomplished guitarist who teaches public school, shared his elation to have passed the “audition process” to play in his church’s worship band.  However, he had a look of uncertainty when he shared with me what he was experiencing.

First, he is having to learn to play his instrument through an “in-ear monitor,” an earplug that plays back all the instruments on the platform.  In-ears, as we call them, are valuable when there are many musicians trying to hear themselves from open floor monitor speakers.  The stage noise gets so loud it interferes with the house mix.  In-ears are a good solution, but take some getting used to.

Next, he was having to learn to play to a “click track”, an electronic metronome pumped through his in-ear monitor.  These are used when musicians struggle to stay in tempo, traditionally a problem with non-professionals.  Instruments begins to conflict and compete, as singers, guitarists and keyboardists tend to rush tempos, while the drummer and bass player are trying to hold tempos at bay.  My friend also stated he was forced to mimic a keyboard part, imported through the internet, which was being heard by the congregants through the house mix.  Finally, he shared a new requirement coming down:  players have to spend their home hours memorizing 5-6 song charts per week, many of which are rarely repeated after the first performance.

Hearing him talk, I was assuming he was in a church that seated 2,000 or more.  Not so.  His church gathers 200 people weekly.

He came to his church team simply wanting to play music and assist in leading his fellow congregants into a musical worship experience that was warm, meaningful and fun.  Instead what he has found was a process rife with anxiety, pressure and perfection. It seemed disconnected from the congregants, disingenuous, and a hassle.  He put away his guitar and dutifully took a congregational seat to “let the pros” do it for him.  The pros are hired musicians, not involved in his church.

I hear stories like this regularly.  Somewhere, someone or some “worship-industry company” came up with the idea that this should be the model for small local-church music.   Much of our millennial generation of worshippers know nothing else.  As one who has performed for and produced large events, these technical tools can be necessary for helping professionals perform in a way that is more seamless.  I get that.  But who told these small churches that they are arenas or stadiums?  Who told these music worship pastors they have to drive their volunteers into a world of professional gear, technique and prowess for which they are unprepared, nor possess the time to develop?  For years, many larger churches have given up on using volunteers and simply hire outside music professionals. The small churches, like my friend’s, are following suit.

The important question:  Is all this necessary for congregants to experience God’s presence together?

Worship leaders, who desire to pastor good-hearted, talented volunteers would do well to consider:  is what I am doing real or is it rote?

ROTE: “A routine, fixed, habitual, or mechanical course of procedure; proceeding repetitiously, without meaning.”

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