Arranging the Pieces

For worship leaders, Sunday seems to come every three days. Trying to bring freshness and newness to worship constantly challenges us.
— Howard Stevenson

When I was on the faculty at Westmont College in Santa Barbara, I frequently drove to the campus on my Honda Gold Wing touring motorcycle along a beautiful, seven-mile stretch of the California coast. Dramatic cliffs and rocks lined the beaches; palm trees arched their spindly trunks in the sand; sailboats bobbed in the gentle blue-and-green swells.

I frequently reminded myself not to take this magnificent part of the world for granted. Each day I tried to see things I had not noticed before or to see things in a new way. For seventeen years I continued to marvel at the patterns and nuances of God’s handiwork.

Leading corporate worship is like that beautiful commute: the challenge is to discover continual enjoyment in an oft-repeated exercise. “Worship is the adoration and praise of that which delights us,” writes John Piper. “We praise what we enjoy, because praise completes the enjoyment. We worship God for the pleasure to be had in him.”

How can we combat the propensity to let the heaven-directed activity of worship fall into dullness and routine? How can we do justice to this exalted calling when it falls to us to plan and lead it week after week, year after year?

For worship leaders, Sunday seems to come every three days. It’s like a voracious animal that consumes all our efforts and then wants more. Trying to find freshness and newness in worship constantly challenges us.

On the average, I spend the equivalent of an entire working day each week in worship planning. I continually carry ideas around in my head. Special celebrations like Easter, of course, require months of planning. And choir anthems and the contributions of special-music groups are planned weeks in advance. But as a general rule, at the beginning of every work week, I begin to pull together the pieces for the next Sunday.

Here are some of the procedures I have found helpful as I plan a worship service.

Finding the Focal Point

I prefer to center worship around a theme—a focal point or central idea that gives the service sequence and depth. Sometimes the theme is supplied by the season of the year: Advent or Lent or Easter or Thanksgiving. Other times a special emphasis of the church, like a Missions Month or Family Sunday, suggest worship themes.

Of course, the sermon topic is a natural focal point. If the topic happens to be “God’s Faithfulness” or “The Love of God” or “God’s Sovereignty,” it is not difficult to blend the hymns, anthems, and the spoken word with the sermon.

My pastor. Chuck Swindoll, and I communicate weekly about his sermon plans. Our memos and conversations include (a) sermon title, (b) passage of Scripture, (c) central thought, (d) key words or phrases that might be repeated or underscored in the message, (e) songs and hymn texts that have come to mind in his planning and preparation, and (f) other worship ideas or suggestions from him.

Then again, sometimes it’s asking too much to know weeks and months in advance this detailed information. Also, it’s not easy to highlight every sermon subject. I recall a three-week sermon series from Ecclesiastes that focused on various characteristics of “The Foolish Man.” It’s also difficult to coordinate worship and sermon when the preacher exposits Scripture verse by verse.

Consequently, over the years I’ve discovered the worship portion of the service can have a life of its own; it doesn’t have to be connected with the sermon. This has been a liberating concept. Often, then, I let the theme of the choir anthem become the theme of worship, and I fit the other parts of worship into it.

In any case, when we focus on one theme, people can come to the end of thirty minutes of worship drawn together and to God.

Listing the Worship Resources

After determining the focal point of worship, I take a yellow pad and begin to list all the available resources for that theme.

First, I turn to four or five hymn books that I keep by my desk. I go to the topical index and the Scripture reference index, and I list all the hymns that might contribute to the theme of worship.

It matters not whether the song is known to our congregation, because a hymn can be used in several ways. It can be paraphrased in prayer, read by the congregation, recited by the leader, sung to another tune in the same meter, used as a solo, or played by an instrumental musician.

Then I list all the appropriate worship choruses. The interjection of these memorized and more personal songs often adds a delightful note of spontaneity and freshness. I keep a list of song titles at hand to avoid having to go through ten or a dozen of the latest spiral-bound booklets.

Next, I read the Scripture text in several translations, versions, and paraphrases. I also use a topical Bible and a concordance, both of which help me locate related passages that can be used in prayer or during transitions in worship.

Still another helpful source of fresh language is related readings and poems. Several good sources are listed in the bibliography of worship resources at the end of this book.

Finally, I review the various means we have of presenting these items: the spoken word, the choir, a pipe organ, people who can read interpretively, soloists and instrumentalists, a readers group, handbells, children’s choirs, and the congregation.

This exercise with the yellow pad almost always produces more material than we ever could use in one service, but the process of listing these resources helps stoke creativity.

Exploring All the Possibilities

As I plan corporate worship for a large body of people week after week, one principle I constantly remember is this: The higher the predictability, the lower the impact. Remember that daily drive along the Pacific to the college campus? Whenever I got used to it, I began to lose the impact of that beautiful sight.

So, I also look at each element of worship from different angles, to see how it might be approached freshly or arranged in creative combinations and yet with dignity.

For instance, with Scripture I ask myself: How can it make a special impact upon these people who routinely sit in this room Sunday after Sunday? Does it always have to be read as a monologue? Can it be read responsively by two people? Can it be sung? Can it be read dramatically by a practiced readers team? Is this a conversation between one, two, four people? Is there a crowd involved that the choir could represent? Can the prophet shout or call from some distant vantage point in the room? Can different people in the congregation stand and proclaim God’s Word from where they are?

Once when we read the Parable of the Sower, we had four different voices each take one soil and read that portion and its interpretation. Another time the choir shouted, “Hosanna to the Son of David!” during a reading for Palm Sunday. Another time still, a “prophet” declared from somewhere in the organ chambers, “Prepare ye the way of the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for our God!”

The text can be taken directly from a particular Bible translation or rewritten as a contemporary paraphrase. Or a variety of passages could be combined into a mosaic of Scripture. The options abound.

Sometimes we have combined Scripture and music. Once we sang “0 God Our Help in Ages Past,” and between stanzas we read portions of Psalm 90, from whence Isaac Watts received his inspiration. When we had finished, our organist played a simple, soft, slow, single-line reminder of the melody and text: “Our shelter from the stormy blast, and our eternal home.” It was a special moment.

Likewise, prayer can be approached in different ways. Although normally one person prays publicly in our service, sometimes several people have led in prayer, one after the other, in turn praying prayers of adoration, confession, intercession, petition, and thanksgiving.

Once a husband and wife lead us in an almost conversational style of prayer. Jim started out in praise to God; then Carolyn interjected items of thanksgiving; next Jim picked up, “And, Lord, there are many in our church family who need strength for trials.…”

Still another idea: guided, silent prayer. Or how about two, three, or four different places in one service for prayer? Or, try taking a hymn that has just been sung and “pray the hymn,” using the words of the hymn as the basis for the organization and content of a spoken prayer.

In sum, all the elements of worship can be looked at creatively.

After this exploration, I begin to design a sequence of events that has logic and flow. In doing this, I am reminded of the difference between a streamlined passenger train and a freight train. A freight train is just a number of cars of all descriptions, linked together but with gaps between. From within a streamlined passenger train, on the other hand, the cars are clearly connected. Passengers easily walk from one car to another even as it is moving at high speeds.

I want worship to be like a streamlined passenger train: intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually continuous. That type of service, I believe, engages people most meaningfully.

As I think about the placement of various events in the drama of worship, several key principles emerge.

Focusing Attention

I have learned to appreciate a plan that I inherited when I came to First Evangelical Free Church in Fullerton in 1980. Just before we begin worship, our people, in typical Southern California, Free Church style, are warmly greeting and talking to one another, both in and out of the sanctuary, or “worship center,” as we call it. Though there is organ music, it is not, as in many churches, a signal for silence in the pews.

A few minutes before the stated beginning time, one of our pastoral staff comes to the platform to greet people, underscore some announcements, and then encourage people to examine the bulletin, open their hymnals, and collect their thoughts for worship. Then the organist draws the veil of quietness with thirty to forty-five seconds of musical accompaniment, perhaps employing a hymn that will be used, a related musical thought, or a short praise chorus.

Then worship can begin, but again, in a variety of ways. Sometimes we begin quietly with the singing of a simple chorus, sometimes majestically with brass and timpani, sometimes formally, sometimes informally, sometimes with an anthem, sometimes with a reading or a Scripture passage. But in any case, the mind and spirit are focused on the occasion at hand: worship.

Once we positioned one of our soloists six to eight rows back in the congregation and gave her a cordless, lapel mike. At a preplanned point, she started to sing while seated, without accompaniment, without music in hand, “Brethren, we have met to worship.” After singing a phrase or two, she stood and continued singing as quiet support from the organ joined her. She slowly moved down the aisle to the steps and faced her brothers and sisters, encouraging them in song to “Love God supremely” and “Pray with expectation as we preach the living Word.” As the song came to a close, she moved back to her seat, singing as she sat down, repeating, now a capella, “Brethren, we have met to worship / To adore the Lord, our God.” All was quiet; no one dared breathe; we were brought face to face with the supreme privilege and responsibility of worship.

Remembering Content and Flow

After we focus people’s attention, the rest of the service can develop in countless ways, but two overriding principles guide my planning: logical content and emotional flow.

We want the content of the songs, readings, and prayers to contribute to the theme that we have chosen. The task is to present a drama that unfolds in a reasonable sequence and helps us reflect on God, who he is, and our relationship to him.

I want people to discover why a certain hymn was chosen, what it contributes to the theme, why it was placed just there in the order of service, and how it relates to the Scripture just read or the prayer that will follow. Sometimes the pastor or worship leader can supply that connection; other times we assume the worshipers will discern it.

At the beginning I usually try to establish the supremacy of God as the object of our worship. The thrust is God-directed, corporate worship. The pronouns of songs here usually will be “we,” “us,” and “our.”

Later in the service may be the occasion for a more personal expression. Then congregational songs often will use “I,” “me,” and “my,” drawing people to focus on their particular and individual relationship with God. This part of the service may be quieter and more reflective.

Emotional development is important. The service should not be an emotional monotone, but one that offers a variety of intensity. If everything is quiet, somber, or reflective, the service may tend to feel listless. If everything is triumphant and one grand climax after another, people may quickly tire.

I also want to avoid jarring emotional shifts. The continuity of worship should provide a natural flow from one part to another. Otherwise, the jerking from one mood to the next will distract people from worship. Even the smallest details can be distracting.

For example, if I intended to follow a prayer with a song, I probably would try to think of a refrain or chorus that most people know by heart. Then, instead of interrupting the prayerful atmosphere with an abrupt, “Please turn to hymn number 492,” I would have the organist simply begin playing chord progressions to establish a key, and I would start singing, “I love you Lord, and I lift my voice. … ” With a small cue or motion, I’d invite the congregation to join in. In addition, I often put such songs in a lower key, so people, in a quiet mood, don’t have to sing so high.

Keeping It Personal

Unless we guard against it, worship can become mere performance, an impersonal presentation of words and songs. To counter this danger, I remind myself that, above all else, our worship must be authentic and personal.

Sometimes I like to lead worship from the floor of the sanctuary. That helps overcome that separation of performers and people that the platform can foster. Or we’ll have people come from out of the pews to lead a portion of the service as I described above. Or we’ll engage the congregation in some way.

Not long ago. Chuck was preaching a series on Great Questions—things asked by Jesus and asked about him. One week, the question was, “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” Jesus, of course, used a child to make his point.

I led some songs from the piano, and after we’d been into the service fifteen minutes, I had three children come forward. We talked about what Jesus thought of children, and I asked one of the girls to read the Scripture. I talked about some qualities of children that we never want to lose touch with: trust and the willingness to let others help. I also said we never want to lose the songs of childhood. Then the kids and I sang “Jesus Loves Me.” A little touch like that helps make the service more personal.

Encouraging Participation

Sometimes people come to church and feel like they’re watching worship instead of actually worshiping. We counter “spectatorism” by giving people plenty of opportunities to participate—songs, readings, and prayers—and by using nonprofessionals for different parts of the service.

If a lay person stands from the pews to read a proclamation, in a sense everyone does it. Any time we move the participation away from the pulpit and professional staff, worship is no longer a show but a common undertaking of leaders and people.

We do the same when we involve people’s hearts as well as their heads. I’m convinced there are too few points of genuine inspiration in most of our lives.

I’ll always remember the words of one man who asked to sing in our choir. “You know why I want to sing in the choir?” he began. “I’m an engineer, and I work with things I can measure, weigh, and feel. I’m inclined to take my spiritual life in much the same way—an inventory of knowledge and a cerebral concept of my Christian life. I need to learn to express the emotion of the Gospel.”

He was onto a great truth: we have an inner need to experience worship, not just to watch it.

We Worship a Creative God, Forever

We seek variety, not for its own sake or because we want to put on a good show, but because we serve a God of infinite variety. We want to catch a glimpse of his face and his character from every possible angle. Each new revelation of truth and beauty and every expression of love and concern help us to understand him more.

I also like to remember that worship is the ceaseless activity of heaven—occurring right now as you read these words. One day, it will be our eternal activity.

Sometimes, I enjoy teasing Pastor Chuck by reminding him that someday he will be out of a job. Preaching will be obsolete when we come into perfect knowledge. But worshipers will be fully employed forever, praising God. “O that with yonder sacred throng, / We at his feet may fall. / We’ll join the everlasting throng / and crown him Lord of all.”

So I strive week after week (every three days!) to plan and arrange worship in fresh and creative ways. After all, our practice of worship here on earth is perhaps our most significant preparation for the life to come.