Whatever Happened to Service?

Whatever happened to service? I mean, when did it become the practice of companies, churches and individuals to let customers (current or potential) and/or visitors fend for themselves while deciding whether or not to join something, buy something, or just enjoy simple courtesy?

I was shocked a few years ago when a young mall cologne sales person began to argue with me about my choice of scent; she thought my choice was subpar and didn’t fall for the rubbish that “the customer is always right." I didn’t offer that statement up front, but as she brought it up, I began to ponder the validity of that old quote simultaneously as I fended off my anger, turned and walked out of the store.

Defining “Service”

I watched a movie last night where the plot line revolved around a grand hotel in Europe just before and during World War II. Though quirky and fatalistic in its depiction of life and humanity, there were moments of sensitivity and poignancy. One such was when the hotel’s concierge—an old-world perfectionist who ruled the hotel staff with an iron fist—began lecturing his new “lobby boy” as to the tricks of the trade and the mindset one must have to be a successful service person. The concierge said, “What is a lobby boy? A lobby boy is completely invisible, yet always in sight. A lobby boy remembers what people hate. A lobby boy anticipates the client’s needs before the needs are needed.” One could replace “lobby boy” in that quote with “service” and my point for this writing would be complete:

SERVICE is completely invisible, yet always in sight

SERVICE remembers what people hate

SERVICE anticipates the client’s needs before the needs are needed

Regarding Church

I think the hotel concierge’s wisdom from the movie can teach a few things to church leaders as well. First of all, we mustn’t make the mistake that our visitors and guests know anything about the church, its customs, physical layout, etc. Using a variation of what was quoted earlier, a connection team at a church must “anticipate the [visitor’s/guest’s] needs before the needs are needed.” All one has to do is put themselves in that vulnerable position of a first-time guest to make sure there are plenty of friendly connection staff ready and waiting to help with any need. Signage must be beyond adequate to direct guests to where they need to go. But just like any fine establishment, it’s best to break from your station to walk with the guests to their desired destination. Introduce yourself and make sure to remember their names so you can greet them afterward.

Also, a service mentality must persist beyond the “welcome” stage in a church. We must help guide frequent guests into the “next steps” of commitment, such as salvation, baptism, new members classes, small groups, etc. For example, when a traveler is driving through an unfamiliar town after a food, comfort and fuel stop, it’s important that there are visible directives to get back to the interstate, and that those directions are clearly displayed. It requires a redundancy of prompts to get us onto the main highway. The same redundant, painfully obvious prompts must be present to properly serve and guide our visitors, guests and regular attenders alike. Everyone is trying to find the onramp to the interstate, no matter how far along the road we are!

Service Wisdom

Here are some helpful service hints from experienced waiters—guidelines that translate easily into general everyday life:

-Do not let anyone enter the restaurant without a warm greeting

-When you ask, “How’s everything?” or “How was the meal?” listen to the answer and fix whatever is not right

-Never acknowledge any one guest over and above any other. All guests are equal

-Do not ignore a table because it is not your table. Stop, look, listen, lend a hand. (Whether tips are pooled or not.)

-Do not let a glass sit empty for too long

“And whoever wants to be first must be slave of all. For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” Mark 10:44-45 (NIV).

When Worship Wasn't Cool

I think of the days when hymn books lined the pews in our churches and were used in worship services every week. As a traditional '80s minister of music, I would stand at the pulpit and say, "Please take your hymn books and turn to page number (fill in the blank) and sing verses one, two and five." Remember?

I have always been a fan of guitar music, especially classic rock. I'd played my acoustic guitar in worship once in a while back in the day, but in church I was mostly accompanied by organ and piano. I dreamed of the day when my kind of music—rock and roll— would be accepted in the churches I served.

Since the days of Promise Keepers, and through the great worship experiences offered during those events, pastors began to desire "more of that" in their own churches, and slowly opened the flood gates for full bands to take their church stages. I saw this development before my own eyes.

In the days preceding all of this, worship wasn't cool. I mean, for most churches, worship looked for the longest time like it had for two hundred years. This wasn't a bad thing, since classical music had dominated church and sacred music literature, and people were reading music and passing on the wonderful, Bible-rich songs that were pervasive up to that point. Music literacy is a good thing and I hope over time we don't lose it.

The Transition

I was raised in southern California in the '60s and '70s, and the influences of Maranatha! Music and Calvary Chapel Costa Mesa were present when I received Christ at the age of 14. The pop music of my early Christian formation became the soundtrack to my spiritual walk. But as I moved away from California to the southern part of the United States, I noticed that this pop-styled worship music was scarce in churches there, and the worship music wave that started on the west coast had not yet arrived on the shores of the east coast.

I remember back in the early ‘90s, during the days when I was an exclusive writer with Integrity Music, founder and then-owner and President Mike Coleman invited all of the writers and creatives to a company retreat. At dinner one night that weekend, Coleman lamented that the Christian music industry didn’t “get” worship and many companies resisted partnering with Integrity in producing this kind of music for the church.

By the time worship music took to the radio in the 2000s, it was an indication that the genre had "arrived." Once Michael W. Smith’s Worship hit stores on (ironically) September 11, 2001, worship music's importance began to rise in the eyes of the music industry.

Dream Come True

What has resulted over the years is a greater presence of guitar-driven rock in worship services, smaller vocal groups and an unprecedented use of staging and technology in churches. I am excited, to say the least—my dream is coming true!

However, as leaders we must make sure that the music doesn’t become an idol, that it doesn't take the place of the One we worship. We must be careful to raise up worship musicians and leaders with the proper perspective of music in the church: a vehicle to help the congregation sing together and connect with God. We must keep our music approachable, with singable keys and with words that are Biblically sound, lyrics that don’t rely on sensual imagery to describe intimacy with God.

I am hopeful for worship music and its acceptance as a sacred form of church music, and never want to see our music ministries become a surrogate means for our own musical ambitions. Thank God our kids don't have to play in clubs and bars like many of us had to do to hone our musical skills; they can learn and mature right in the church!

Oh yes, I remember when worship wasn’t cool, so let’s be thankful and wise stewards of this great privilege we now have.

Sweet Home Alabama

In January 1983 I rolled into downtown Mobile, Alabama after traveling all night, crumpled up in a tiny seat on a packed Greyhound bus.

Over the three proceeding years I worked with the Columbus, Ohio-based company, American Entertainment Productions (AEP). Through this first-time-away-from-home opportunity with AEP, I became fully immersed in the world of performing; I became a professional musician, whose skills as a guitarist and singer were finely honed in the crucible called “The Road.” As a bonus I learned to be a road manager and a front man for a world-traveling rock group. My three years with AEP took me all over North America, the Mediterranean and Europe. I was grateful for the opportunity, but longed for a chance to serve Christ and His Church through music.

Through the suggestion of some musician friends, I auditioned for the Christian group Truth. I made the cut as guitar player and, along with with all that I owned in the world, was picked up at the Mobile Greyhound station and brought to the Truth office in an oak-shaded house on Old Shell Rd.

Later that day I met Roger Breland and my life would never be the same.

During my 2 1/2-year tenure with Truth I learned about ministry and performing in various churches. I gained an understanding of different denominations—what to say and not to say in certain places—and learned how to conduct myself in host homes.

In September of 1983 Truth was invited to play for the chapel service at a local Christian school called Mobile College. In the auditorium that morning was a beautiful angel—an eighteen-year-old, first-semester freshman—worshipping the Lord during the congregational singing part of the presentation; I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her. I looked forward to hopefully seeing and meeting her at the school cafeteria directly after the service. Sure enough, she was there. I had to get a friend from the group to meet her first, then introduce me, because I was too shy to do it myself! Thankfully Brenda didn’t fall for the guy who introduced us, and I shook the hand of the lady that would one day become my wife.

A few years later in 1985, when it was time to leave the group and complete my education, Roger Breland helped me get into Mobile College. I married Brenda that Christmas and, fast-forward to the spring of 1989, we were photographed together at graduation with our two children, Josh and Betsy.

My brother Jon recently said that Mobile has always been a place of blessing for me: I wrote some of my biggest songs and signed an exclusive songwriter’s contract with Integrity Music in Mobile; I was ordained at a Mobile church; Brenda was born and raised in Mobile; we were married there—our kids were born there—all in Mobile!

When my mother passed away in 1997, we moved away for four years to be with my dad in North Carolina. For the past thirteen years we have called Spring Hill, Tennessee home.

And now after 17-years away, Brenda and I return to the place where we first met back in ’83, though these days it’s called the University of Mobile. Roger Breland—now Dr. Breland—having since left Truth after 31 years, has been the Vice President of Project Development and Director of the Center for Performing Arts at the university for over a decade. Once again I am serving under my old mentor, boss and friend, Dr. B, and wear the title of “Artist-In-Residence," which gives me the honor of working with students as a mentor and teacher and director of some of the performance groups on campus. I will also be working closely with the other guitar instructors, focusing on commercial guitar from a real-world, gigging-musician perspective. To top it off, my new book, Worship Foundry, fits perfectly as a text book for my classes. I am humbled with the opportunity to apply my years of experience in worship leadership, songwriting, arranging and producing at this wonderful institution, and am truly thankful for Mobile and its importance to my family and career.

So, I am looking forward to the new school year starting in mid-August. Many thanks to all who have supported us over the years, and especially to those who recognize that this new phase of our lives is a perfect fit and an answer to much prayer. I believe that this opportunity given me has been on God’s workbench since before the beginning of time. For this I am a grateful man.

Personal Sacrifice and Leadership

Dr. John P. Stapp

On October 14, 1947, flying the X-1 at Mach 1.07 at an altitude of 45,000 feet, test pilot Chuck Yeager broke the sound barrier in the skies above what is now Edwards Air Force Base, near Lancaster, California. Yeager would later say, "The real barrier wasn't in the sky, but in our knowledge and experience."

Just two months later, a less famous experiment was to bring a new level of understanding to human flight, advancing not only the study of aeronautics, but proving the miraculous resilience of the human body, and, at the same time, displaying an important lesson in leadership.

Captain John Paul Stapp, a medical doctor and member of the Army Air Force Aero Med Lab, was studying the effects of high altitude flight--critical to the future of aviation. Could men actually survive for any length of time in extremely high altitudes? The "bends"—which is basically decompression sickness, arising from dissolved gases coming out of solution into bubbles inside the body—was a frequent underwater diving hazard, and a condition brought on while flying in an unpressurised aircraft at high altitudes. Stapp's experiments on this phenomena led to the discovery that if a pilot breathed pure oxygen for thirty minutes prior to takeoff, the extremely painful symptoms could be avoided—symptoms otherwise temporarily relieved by "bending," or finding a more comfortable physical position.

"I'm going to be the test subject."—Dr. John Stapp

The bigger story for me is about Stapp himself. During the studies, he would offer himself as a willing human guinea pig for experiments. In the scientific quest to solve more problems regarding flight and its effect on humans, Stapp was eventually assigned to the Deceleration Project in March 1947. He arrived in California in April 1947 with the specific objective of studying G forces and the survivability of pilots, both during and after a mid-flight cockpit ejection.

One of Stapp's sleds, now at the Aerospace Museum, Alamogordo, NM

A 2000-foot-long track, built out of welded tubes with a sled atop called the "Gee Whiz," was already
constructed at Edwards AFB—then called Muroc—to test rockets in WWII.  The track was designed to withstand 100 G of force, but it had a meager 50% safety factor. In December 1947, after eight months and 35 test runs with 185-pound crash-test-dummy named Oscar Eightball, Capt. Stapp felt his team had gained enough experience to attempt a manned run. The willing leader said of the test subject Oscar, "We're not going to use these. You can throw this away. I'm going to be the test subject."

Stapp during a test.

When Stapp began his research in 1947, the aerospace conventional wisdom was that an 18 G force against the human body would be fatal. His tests challenged that notion and, as a result, the studies helped establish a standard strength requirement for aircraft seats at 32 G. Also, his studies helped establish requirements that led to the 3-point system of seat belts in automobiles.

Stapp was born in Brazil to a family of American missionaries. His early experiences on the mission field may have helped establish the leadership principles that were prevalent during his career, which I summarize here: Lead by example through personal sacrifice.

Stapp's leadership example is a great lesson for all who desire to step out in front of the pack. I would follow Stapp anywhere, but I probably wouldn't want to take a ride in "Gee Whiz" for all the money in the world!

The Nashville Number System

I use the Nashville Number System every day. It makes things simple for me when I'm trying to keep a song structure to one page, but more importantly to remain nimble when needing a quick key change.

I find this system helpful but limited at times, especially when a chord chart can more easily display a greater amount of definition to a complex piece. Plus, when numbers go out of the key for certain song passages (flat 6, flat 7 chords and more), it can be challenging for some to do the quick "which chord is that?" dance in the middle of a song.

For the most part, this system will be a great friend to any musician who needs a quick reference to a song's basic roadmap.

Remember, this system won't make you a better guitar player and won't be able to improve your tone! It will, however, help you get your act together before band rehearsal.

John Bohlinger is a great guitar player in Nashville and a contributor to Premier Guitar Magazine, both as a writer and frequent host for Premier Guitar's popular artist Rig Rundown video series on YouTube. The following is from an article published in 2010.

_________________________________________________

The Nashville Number System Demystified

John Bohlinger

I did a session a little while ago with a guest keyboard player who had painstakingly transcribed every note he planned on playing. He was über-prepared but regrettably misguided, because once the singer decided he wanted to try the song up a half step, this guy was screwed. When I handed him a number chart, he looked like he was going to sob, pee his pants, and then hide. The poor [guy] was an egghead who knew a lot about music but never took the time to learn the down-and-dirty stuff that working musicians use every day: the Nashville Number System.

Literally, everybody working a decent gig in Nashville reads number charts—including every good engineer and drummer, even though they’re not playing notes, per se. It’s a brilliant system that allows players to change keys to accommodate any moody singer immediately. They can be written quickly and sight-read easily after a bit of practice. Much like chord charts, they don’t give you the melody, but you can write out simple signature parts in numbers. For those who haven’t yet learned the Nashville Number System, I present to you the keys to the kingdom.

Everybody writes charts a bit differently. Mine tend to be sloppy, but they all have the same basic format. In short, a line is usually four to eight measures. Each number denotes the scale degree of your key signature. All standard symbols for music apply.

FIGURE 1. An example of an eight-bar progression written with the Nashville Number System

In Figure 1, the upper right-hand corner (the circled “G” that looks a lot like a “6”) tells us that we’re playing a waltz (that is, in ¾ time) in the key of G. That means G is our 1. Measure one is a G. Measure two is a straight G for the first two beats, then a G with a B (3) in the bass on the last note of the measure, leading us into the C (4) chord for measure three. Play a straight C (4) for the first two beats, then play the G (1) over B (3) as a passing chord to A (2) minor for the fourth measure. Play a D (5) Major 7th for measure 5, then a straight D for the first beat of measure six. Play two beats on a D (5) with an F# (7) in the bass for the rest of measure six, then resolve back to our G, strumming three quarters for the 7th measure and hit a single whole note strum for the eighth measure. Then follow those repeat signs and do it again. 

If your singer wants to modulate to A, the A is now your 1, D is your new 4, etc. It’s amazing how much information you can convey with just a few numbers and symbols. Figure 2 shows a list of a few symbols that you will eventually see in Nashville Number System Charts. Next time you’re recording or learning a song, write a number chart. Eventually, you’ll be able to read them without thinking so you can get down to just playing. 

FIGURE 2. 

Common Nashville Number System symbols.

Life's Serendipitous Moments: Roby Duke

I was surfing the web on this lazy Sunday afternoon and wondered how an old acquaintance from my California days, Roby Duke, was doing.

In the years since 1979, when we first met at a Calvary Chapel event (not sure where or when), Roby would become a well known Contemporary Christian Music (CCM) artist. He would even go beyond the walls of the church in the decades following by adding his distinctive voice to Hollywood mega-hit movies like "Titanic" and "Pirates of the Caribbean."

I guess he saw something special in me, a wet-behind-the-ears 18 or 19-year-old (he would have been a mere 22 at the time). Maybe it was my guitar playing or singing, or maybe my budding songwriting chops. He would introduce me to some of his friends, and we spent several hours in his tiny apartment in Orange County—sharing our newest songs, and singing and jamming on our acoustics.

Since I'd come to know the Lord in 1975, after attending several Saturday night concerts at Calvary Chapel, Costa Mesa, I was beyond flattered when, a few years later, Roby would show interest in my talent. I can't remember exactly how we met, but I was well aware of his immense talent ever since he showed up on the Calvary scene from Mississippi.  He was one of those guys who, soon after arriving in L.A., was invited to play on the Calvary Chapel circuit, all over southern California—his bluesy vocal smoothness was jaw-droppingly awesome. He would become well known in CCM circles across America, and highly respected after his first record, Not the Same, was released in 1980. His music defied the typical Christian sound that was being churned out at the time—his music continued to buck the trends throughout his career.

Roby would speak with me in his molasses-like, slow-and-sweet southern drawl, reminiscent of my own Tennessee roots, running deep on both sides of my family. His demeanor and laid-back style made me feel at home. (My childhood—though being raised in the suburban sprawl of the L.A. bedroom community of Orange County—was smothered in southern accents and southern-style food; our dinner table was frequently filled with southern delights when mom and grandma crafted huge feasts for my extended family, especially during the holidays).

I remember going out to dinner once with Roby and his friends Harry Browning and Laury Boone. I couldn't get over that I was sharing the table with the sister of Debbie Boone, whose song "You Light Up My Life" shot up the pop charts a few years earlier. I felt special, honored and overwhelmed at the time. In only a year I would relocate to Columbus, Ohio, to begin a life as a full-time musician on the road.

As I came upon the news today that Roby passed away from a sudden heart attack on the day after Christmas in 2007, I was shocked and saddened. We never got together again after I moved away. I wish I could call him, or write to convey my appreciation somehow; I'm so sorry that it's too late now.

He was a big guy back in 1979, but in more recent photos he seemed to have lost several pounds. Now that I'm coming into my mid-fifties, it's not unusual for guys like me, with extra weight around the middle, to discover they have heart problems. My own bout with high blood pressure has encouraged me to make several life-style changes. I don't know what led to Roby's heart attack at 51, but I don't want to go early—too many cool things are going on in life for me these days!

I'm grateful to Roby and others who spent time with me and encouraged me to do what I've continued to do even today. Life is so incredibly full of serendipitous moments—many of which we pass right on by. What would my life have been like if I had not met Roby Duke? I guess I'll never know.

__________________________________________

Here's a video of the final performance that Roby did at Calvary Chapel of Thousand Oaks, California, two days before his death. As you can see, Roby was one incredibly gifted white boy with the soul of a Delta blues singer!

The Small Town Church Is Alive and Well

Jamie and Doug Chappelle at Thelma Baptist, Wetumpka, Alabama

My hope was restored in "small town church" this past weekend.

Brenda and I were invited by an old friend, whom we'd met many years ago in Mobile, Alabama, while newly-married and brand-new parents to Josh and Betsy. Since those formative years, my friend Doug Chappelle went his way and we went ours, following the calling God had on both of our families. Doug went on to become a senior pastor and I continued on my path as a worship leader and song writer.

Fast-forward to the beginning of this year, 2014.

I received a call from Doug to come to his rural church on the outskirts of Montgomery, Alabama. He asked me to encourage his praise team with a Saturday workshop, and to lead his congregation in worship on Sunday.

When driving up to the church property, you are immediately greeted by a traditional white steeple that rises high above the red-brick facade, characteristic of so many churches in the rural South. The property is lovingly maintained, and the rows of pews that fill the sanctuary make their way to a fairly traditional stage, with a piano on the left, but with the modern exception of a small band setup on the right. The pulpit has been replaced by a comfortable bar stool-type chair and a high-top table to hold Doug's notes while he preaches.

As I made my way through the teaching notes I put together for the Saturday workshop, the team members, including several from the student worship band, leaned forward in their seats, engaged and anxious to learn. They were excited to raise their level of musicianship, making an effort to better serve their congregation as leaders in worship. The team also has a choir of about 40, and Bill, their music director, brings much enthusiasm and heart to his leadership.

In the service, I was blown away by the two-minute-warning countdown video that included a segment with a rundown of the week's announcements, led by a very talented young lady who could easily make the cut on a local news team here in Nashville. In the middle of the service, they showed a video testimony of a couple who had recently given their lives to Christ. The video spot was well-produced and edited, with the flair of any CBN 700 Club piece.

When I came back to the microphone to lead the second half of worship, I told the congregation that they were the coolest small town church in America. The sanctuary erupted in applause.

The care with which they treated us, their generous offering and the outpouring of interest in my CDs and book made me blush, to be honest.

Most churches with a steeple out front and a cemetery out back are holding on for dear life; the startup churches that have exciting, explosive one-liner-names are taking the young people away, one family at a time. It's sad, really.

There is room for all kinds of churches in all kinds of settings. But with a pastor like Doug Chappelle, and a strong ministry team surrounding him—with a heart for people, a foundation on the Word, and the leading of the Holy Spirit—small town churches can still be an effective beacon in the community.

I'm convinced: where there is life, people will flock to the hope and encouragement that flows from a Christ-centered place of worship. I saw it there in abundance at Thelma Baptist Church, in Wetumpka, Alabama, this past weekend.