“But I played better than the other guy!”

Last night we had our weekly worship team rehearsal. Everything seemed normal except for a new soprano and a new acoustic guitar player. I’ll have new team members occasionally, but almost never two new members at the same time. The new singer I had heard sing several times in different settings, and each time I was impressed with her abilities as well as her heart for worship. The acoustic guy I had heard play classical guitar at a wedding and was aware of his involvement in one of our satellite campuses, although on electric guitar. That particular campus’ worship leader was confidant he could pull it off, and since I had heard his classical chops and that he was easily holding his own on electric guitar for over a year now, I was comfortable in bringing him on for rehearsal and the subsequent weekend services.

As the rehearsal got underway, two things quickly became apparent: the singer was holding her own and seemed very comfortable, while on the other hand the acoustic guitarist was struggling and clearly not comfortable. The struggles were to the degree that his involvement in the worship for the upcoming weekend needed to be re-evaluated.

As the rehearsal went on, I had a different reaction in my heart to the situation than one might expect. Before I explain, let me share a brief background: I like rehearsals to be productive, fun, and short – one hour. Musicians that are unprepared make rehearsals a waste of time, annoying, and longer. My teams are always given the opportunity to be prepared – charts, CD’s, and song order at least a week in advance, often two to three weeks (I prepare songlists a month at a time). If they forget to pick up a packet, they can download charts and MP3’s on line. When someone isn’t prepared, they clearly haven’t taken the time to listen to the CD, preview the charts and practice. Everyone on the team will tell you that nothing gets under my skin quite like that. In rehearsal their lack of preparation is obvious to everyone, and I’ll call them out in a manner that is corrective, challenging and calm, yet not humiliating. At least that’s what I’m hoping to accomplish. Being unprepared is simply unacceptable to me, and everyone knows it. That’s why it usually only happens with someone that is new or fairly new.

Back to rehearsal – so when the acoustic guitarist isn’t cutting it, you can see the group looking at me to see if there was going to be a “correction” if you will. You could see a little confusion on their faces as they saw the contentment on mine. It was an apparent contradiction, but to me it was worlds apart.

Here’s the difference – the acoustic player was prepared, but he was in over his head by no fault of his own. This was not a case of laziness – not even close. I could tell that he had worked hard to get to where he knew he needed to be, but he simply wasn’t able to. When someone is very capable, yet performs below their abilities and expectations, shame on them. When someone is not as capable, and performs at their abilities – although below expectations, shame on me. I was not disappointed in the acoustic guitarist’s performance. Rather, I was disappointed in me – that I had not properly assessed his abilities thus putting him in a position to fail.

After rehearsal I pulled him aside, and went into a private location. I shared with him that he wasn’t ready for the weekend, and then I apologized for putting him in that position prematurely. His response was one of relief! He was relieved that I wasn’t upset or disappointed with him and that the pressure was off to try and accomplish something that he simply wasn’t currently capable of. It quickly became clear that the electric, not acoustic guitar was his passion. He also had battled with whether or not to share with me his struggles on acoustic and the desire to back out, yet not wanting to let me down or to be a “quitter”. I can totally understand and respect his battle.

I was able to share this with the team during the weekend, and they were very appreciative of the explanation. It boils down to “whom much is given, much is required.” I can only require out of someone what they are capable of giving or doing.

Several years I had two services back to back and a different bass player for each service. We were playing a rather difficult song that particular weekend, and the bass player at the early service was a good bass player, but the bass player at the second service was clearly more gifted and accomplished. The first service went well, and the bass player worked long and hard and did a very solid job on the tough song. I gushed all over him. The second service also went well, but the bass player at that service, although he actually played it better than the other bass player, did a sub-par performance in contrast to what he was capable of. I chewed him up. He protested that he had played it better than the other player, and I became even more disappointed. This is the beauty and fairness of God’s economy: the first bass player was rewarded for his faithfulness and investment. The second bass player, although he had played it better, was chastised for his laziness because he was given much, yet made no investment and therefore received no return or reward for his effort.

My job is always to foster excellence by and through investment. Excellence will always be relative to the level of talent, so that no one should boast in comparison to others, but rather, “each one should test his own actions. Then he can take pride in himself, without comparing himself to somebody else, for each one should carry his own load.” (Gal 6:4) As I challenge others, I must also challenge myself. Am I prepared, have I practiced, have I invested in my gift in order to realize a return?