Those Pesky, Late, Out-of-Sync Slides in Church
Staying in sync must be harder than it looks. And I need to learn a lesson.
As a frequent visitor to many different congregations, a common problem I repeatedly experience is this: the overhead slides get out of sync with the music. The on-screen lyrics, often displayed one verse at a time, stay too long, well into the next verse. It doesn’t happen as often with spoken texts, but it is a common problem in many churches. And it is thoroughly annoying.
Can I get an “Amen”?
It is so frustrating. One minute, I sing about the High and Mighty Lord of all history. My mind and heart are swelling with love for God’s goodness and grace for saving a wretch like me. Then the song moves on, but the on-screen lyrics don’t. My thoughts are whiplashed back to what is happening — and what is not happening — in real-time.
Because I am a wretch that needs to be saved, my first thought is annoyance. I think the slide guy isn’t paying attention. Then, a few seconds later, What’s he doing back there? But I don’t look back to find him. At least not yet. I wait, semi-patiently, staring at the screen displaying lyrics that are so five seconds ago.
Some people in the congregation soldier on. Do they know the words? Many people mumble something. I am frozen without a clue what to do.
My second thought is to wonder if the worship leader is aware that half the congregation has gone mute. But I am sure it’s too loud for him to hear through his ear-jack. He couldn’t be listening to us. He is singing from a glowing iPad. He gloriously goes on.
My next thought is to be patient. This too shall pass, I tell myself.
Patience Please
I wonder how I can participate without knowing the words. I want to do something. Sing something. I decide, rather unconsciously, to tap my foot to the drummer’s beat. I can do that.
When will the slide get advanced? I realize I am having an inner dialogue. Now I feel bad. It is not just the slides that are out of sync. I am out of sync, too.
My heart had been singing about the wideness of God’s mercy and the sacrificial love of God. And in five seconds, it plunges into the sins of critique, judgment, and pride.
And they seem to be in an order—one after the other. My thoughts go from critique (how hard can it be) to judgment (he is texting) and end in pride (I could do better).
I hate these feelings. And it’s worse because I’m feeling them in church! And still, I restrain myself from looking back to give him an evil eye. (See, I am really an okay guy.)
Then I noticed there were some people singing the words with the worship leader. How do they know the words? They are insiders. They know the song by heart. They gleefully fill in the lyrics from their vast memory banks of the church’s playlist.
I’m an outsider here.
Then, my inner voice turns to self-condemnation. There you go again, David, thinking only about yourself and how excluded you are at this moment.
“No, you couldn’t do better…”
Hmmm. What? A third voice enters the conversation. What? What did you say? I ask myself.
But this is not my voice speaking. It is my wife standing next to me. She knows what I am thinking and disagrees with the assessment of myself. She hasn’t said a word, but she knows what I am thinking, and I know she knows what I’m thinking. And I know what she’s thinking about that.
Change Happens
Finally, the slide changes. But this time, it changes too fast. It jumps several slides past the verse the worship leader just finished. He’s moved on to the bridge.
Oh no, the slide guy is lost.
He advances the slides to an on-screen set of words no one has sung yet. Then he hops back to the verse before the verse we just sang. Then he jumps forward to the chorus, gives up, and waits for the worship leader at the bridge.
Do these guys ever rehearse?
Now, it is almost unavoidable. It’s inevitable. I know I shouldn’t, but everyone around me cranes their necks and turns their heads to search the back of the church. They are wondering, too, what is going on. Does the slide guy know what is happening? They look back. I stay front-facing.
I look down in front, and I see the Sr. Pastor, the preacher, and the head honcho starting to agitate. I am watching to see what he will do.
Heads. Will. Roll. I’m glad I am not going to that Monday morning staff meeting.
The song is ending. The lyrics of the two-verse bridge are up in front of everyone, but the song is ending. We are done and frankly, I’m relieved that my inner voice has no more to say.
The drama has passed, and we are on to the next song. Things are working well. Everything is right. Verse. Verse. Chorus. Verse. Bridge. Verse. Verse.
Under the cover of normalcy, I decide I can answer my curiosity.
Oh well, I’m going to do it. I have to know.
I turn back into the dark recesses of the church. I see him. He can’t see me because he is now concentrating on timing the slides with the music. How? He is singing himself! He is using a foolproof method of staying in sync: singing the song so he knows when to change slides.
Does he know if he changes the slides three words before the end of the verse, the congregation would like it even more?
John R. W. Stott once said (I was there, I heard him) contemplation of the holiness of God will produce a conviction in the heart of the sinner because he understands his need for salvation that he cannot give himself.
I love God. I love the Lord Jesus and I rely upon the power of the Holy Spirit for my daily walk. I also know that even when I get lost in wonder, love, and praise, my heart is prone to wander into the ditch of judgment and pride.
Lord, have mercy on me.
But I still love to sing God’s praise. Or at least I would if I could see the lyrics on the screen.
The Rev. David Roseberry, an ordained Anglican priest with over 40 years of pastoral experience, offers leadership services to pastors, churches, and Christian writers. He is an accomplished author whose books are available on Amazon. Rev. Roseberry is the Executive Director of LeaderWorks, where his work and resources can be found.
