Same Gifts, New Setting

A few posts ago, I mentioned that I would devote some time talking about what I’m currently doing with music, and the role I think it’s playing in the context of mission. This post is my attempt to make good on that promise. 🙂

I know…you all have been waiting with baited breath. The suspense was driving you mad.

This blog is now four years old, so I don’t expect everyone to scour the archives for the back story…but for those who might be new here, my primary gift and skill set is music. I’m a singer/songwriter/keyboard player, and for many years, I was a contemporary worship leader in the church. Part of my journey out of institutional Christianity, and my personal deconstruction from religion, has involved an identity crisis of sorts. I believed with all my heart that my ultimate calling and gifting was to lead God’s people in worship, and the institutional church was “home” for that gift. What does a worship leader do when that all falls apart? What do you do when, as a matter of conscience, you have to walk away from the only platform you’ve ever known for music and ministry–the only place where you ever felt you really “fit?” If the gifts and calling of God are irrevocable…what do you do then? (And yes, a lot of this has been processed in the back posts, if you want to go look for them.)

For me, it ultimately meant that I had to re-evaluate what my gifts really were, and figure out how to use them in a new setting. If the gifts and calling of God are irrevocable, then those gifts are timeless, and not limited to particular time, place or platform. My gift, then, must not be as a “church worship leader” (a position that’s actually only existed for the last 150 years or so out of a 2000-year history of the church). My gift must be deeper than just a particular way to “do church.” So a huge part of my quest over the past 3 years or so has been to start over, and to re-imagine what kind of voice I can have in a larger, less structured setting.

For the first year and a half I was here in this new town, I basically watched and learned. I started covering the music scene as a blogger and music writer, going to gigs at bars, clubs and other venues, immersing myself in the local scene. Then, slowly, as time permitted and I got the inspiration, I began to write new songs. I say “slowly” because coming up with music is not too much of a problem, but when all you’ve written lyrically  for 30 years are “Jesus” songs, you have to think a little bit about what lyrics can be sung in a bar that won’t make people too uncomfortable. 😉  I also started confiding in a few of the friends I’d made in the music scene that I wanted to cross over from being just a blogger to actually being a participant, and got some good advice as to what that might look like.

A few months ago, I started playing at some “open stages,” where musicians can bring their instrument to the venue and sign up for a 15-20 minute time slot to play. After a couple of those, I got invited to play a more “official” gig, a Songwriter’s Showcase with three other songwriters, which I did a couple of weeks ago. Several local musicians showed up for that gig, and overall I think I made a pretty good impression on them. That music blogger guy? He can actually play. 🙂

It’s still very much an experiment for me, and I am still waaaayy out of my comfort zone. I still think I need to expand my horizons lyrically, and stretch myself musically. So far, I think I’ve made the best impression as a piano player, even more than by my songs themselves. I have a really good ear for music, and my years of experience playing in spontaneous worship settings have actually made me very good at improvising. A lot of my on-stage performances have involved “jamming” with other performers on their songs, and I have the ability to pick up their songs on the spot, and play them as though we’d been practicing together for weeks. So that goes over pretty well. 🙂

But what I think pleases me the most about what I’m experiencing right now is that on these platforms, in these bars, I still feel that same intangible quality I used to feel in the church setting–the “anointing,” we called it in Christian-ese. There is still something in my music that is tugging at the hearts of people, softening their hearts. I can see it in their faces. I can sense it in how they talk with me afterward. That unction within the music that used to draw the gathered Christians into intimacy with God is still drawing people as they sit there drinking their beer or whiskey, even though the words are not particularly “Christian,” and even when I’m playing an Elton John cover song. They don’t even know what it is they are feeling. But it is there. I know it when it’s there. And I think that excites me the most because it is exactly the kind of dynamic I hoped would be there. Something in the music is ministering to these people, helping them, blessing them in ways that can’t be verbalized. Seeds are being sown, some of which may get eaten by the birds or choked by the thorns–but seeds are being sown, nonetheless. And some of those seeds are going to grow into something special.

So much of my journey away from institutional Christianity has been not just to re-discover an authentic faith, but to re-discover a sense of significance. Even though I remember some incredible moments in those worship settings (and I still love to be with my brothers and sisters in true worship), I also remember being very disillusioned by the lack of change I saw in people’s hearts. I was disillusioned because I felt like I was being pigeonholed into simply creating these “feel-good” spiritual moments for people, and seemingly doing nothing to further the greater mission of Christ. I got weary of “throwing candy” to the saints. I wanted to see if my gifts could make a difference in the presence of people who weren’t in that context, who had not encountered God in the way we had–who, in a manner of speaking, needed Him more.

It’s still an experiment–a very messy experiment–but what I’m seeing and feeling is giving me great hope.

I’m sure there are those people who were part of my life in previous seasons, who mainly remember me as a worship leader, and who think I’ve lost my sense of direction and are praying that I find my way back. There have been times that I’ve wondered about that myself. But as I get up on those open stages and feel God with me in the same way I have felt Him on the church platforms, I don’t feel lost at all. I feel like I’m right where I’m supposed to be. This journey might be off the map, but my Navigator has not left my side.

It’s the same gift. Just a new setting.