There was this worship leader. And he was cool.
He wrote great songs, had hair that spiked up just right and always wore black t-shirt, ripped jeans and combat boots. And he played a guitar I'd never heard of.
Like I said, he was cool.
He was also a little bit famous. At least in Texas, he was known as a great songwriter and worship leader and would frequently pop up at big conferences and concerts. I loved his CDs and, on a few occasions, even tried to write songs like him. (Big mistake, by the way.)
And then, he disappeared. He wasn't at summer camps. He didn't make records. He wasn't online. And worst of all, no one was talking about him. (Gasp!)
Then he showed back up. At a big church. Like, a BIG one. The guitar was gone. The hair wasn't as spiky. He was wearing a suit and leading songs in front of a choir, holding a microphone. I couldn't believe it. What a sell out, I thought. I couldn't imagine what had happened. How had they convinced such a super cool guy to become a company man?
I regret being so incredulous back then. Because here's what I've learned from that Sell Out Worship Leader...
God called him to suit church - so he put on a suit.
This thing we're doing - singing and planning and rehearsing and waking up early and going to meetings - is about the people. It's not about my personal preference. It's not about making sure my songs get applause. It's not about building a band I can take on the road.
I'm there to serve and lead the congregation - to craft worship that reminds them of God's mercy and calls them to live like Jesus did. And if I love my congregation, I'll happily sacrifice whatever is getting in the way of me accomplishing what God has for our church.
You see, I thought that guy was a sell-out.
Turns out he was a servant.