The Team You Inherited Is the Team You Lead

“But in fact God has placed the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be.”
1 Corinthians 12:18 (NIV)

I had a list once.

Not a written one. The kind that lives in the back of your head and only comes out when you’re frustrated. A list of all the things my team would be if I had been allowed to pick them.

The drummer would actually listen to the click track. The vocalists would know their parts before Saturday morning. The keys player would stop adding the open-fifth pad I never asked for. The audio guy would show up at the call time, not at the call time minus eleven minutes. The kid on lighting would learn one cue without me writing it on a sticky note.

I had a list of who they should be. And while that list was running, I was not actually leading the team in front of me. I was leading the team in my head.

Paul writes a long, weird chapter to the Corinthians about the body of Christ. The ear and the eye and the hand and the foot. Most of us read it and think it’s about how everyone matters. That’s true. But that’s not the whole thing. The line that lands harder is verse 18:

God has placed the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be.

Not just as you wanted them to be. As he wanted them to be.

Sit with that for a second. The people on your team this Sunday were placed there. Including the one who frustrates you. Including the one who isn’t ready yet. Including the volunteer who shows up 22 minutes late every single week and somehow still makes the band sound better than the rehearsal predicted.

You did not pick this team. You inherited them. And on the days you forget that, you lead the team in your head instead of the team in front of you.

Why this is the hard part

When 594 worship leaders joined The Church Collective, we asked them what their biggest ministry challenge was. The team showed up over and over.

“Having the same commitment or follow through as a whole group.”

“Recruitment. It is hard to grow our team in numbers when the bar is set high for our standards of excellence too.”

“Getting commitment and maximum effort from team members.”

“Creating a unified culture, helping the team to understand the true vision for the culture of our team.”

Those answers don’t read like complaints. They read like grief. Like someone trying really hard with the people they have and feeling tired about it.

I want to say something honest here. The team problem is real. The commitment is uneven. The skill gap is real. The bench is shallow. The volunteer who keeps not learning the bridge is not just in your head. That’s all true.

And. There is a thing underneath the team problem that nobody talks about. The team won’t follow what you are not modeling. The volunteer commitment thing tracks closer to your own commitment than you want to admit. The skill ceiling on your team often mirrors the skill ceiling on you. The unity problem is usually a leader-rhythm problem two steps down the chain.

That’s not a guilt trip. That’s just what tends to be true. Which means the first move on the team problem is not on the team. The first move is on you.

A different way to read the rehearsal

Try a small experiment this week.

Walk into rehearsal with the question, who did God actually give me to lead? Not, who would I lead if I could pick. Not, who do I wish was here. Who is actually standing in front of you holding an in-ear and a setlist?

Then ask one more question. What does this specific person need from me as a leader, today?

Not what you wish they would do for you. What do they need from you. Because here is the strange truth about leading a worship team. You are not leading worship. You are pastoring eight to twelve people who happen to play instruments. The music is downstream of the relationship.

When you start asking that question (what does this person need from me) the meeting changes. You stop trying to fix the bridge for the fourth time. You start asking the second-year vocalist what she’s actually carrying this week. You start checking in with the audio guy about his job, not the gain structure. You spend two minutes praying with someone before the first downbeat instead of running the click for the fifth time.

The set probably still has the open-fifth pad you didn’t ask for. The drummer might still rush the chorus. The cue still gets missed.

But the team is being led. Not the team in your head. The team Paul says God placed there.

What you do with the frustration

I’m not telling you to suppress the frustration. The frustration is information. It’s telling you something about what you wish was true and isn’t.

Take the frustration to God before you take it to the team. Sit with the list in the back of your head. Ask him which entries on that list are about standards (good) and which are about your preferences (worth examining). Ask him which of the people you’re frustrated with you’ve actually pastored, and which of them you’ve just lined up and pointed at the next Sunday.

When you bring it to him first, you don’t show up to rehearsal armed. You show up to rehearsal listening.

A question for the week

Pick the one person on your team who frustrates you most right now. Not the worst-performing person. The one whose name lives in the back of your head with a sigh attached to it.

What does it look like to pastor that person for the next thirty days instead of manage them?

Not coach. Not coordinate. Pastor.

Then go do that thing.

The team you inherited is the team you lead. They were placed there just as he wanted them to be. Including you.

Talking to God before talking for them,
Ryan