Wisdom from J.Lo
Admittedly, I have been a huge fan of the American Idol reboot that is enjoying both a resurgence in popularity and sky-rocketing ratings. This season’s batch of hopefuls have been a delight to watch week to week as they belt out tunes for the invisible audience of viewers at home and the scrutinizing eyes of their celebrity judges. Although contestants this year have not had to deal with the tyranny of Simon Cowell’s wilting remarks, quips, and opinions on their respective performances, they nevertheless have had to deal with their share of criticism.
Jennifer Lopez has been a surprisingly refreshing addition to the show, neutralizing any public perception she carried as a diva and exchanging it for a renewed status as a bona fide artist and qualified judge of talent. On one of the earlier shows she commented on a contestant’s performance – Stefano Langone (who I wished had been booted off weeks before her pivotal commentary). Week after week, Stefano would belt out his tune with impressive vocal prowess but for some reason he always came up short. The boy had some serious chops, but he had this kind of Broadway showman-ism that always made you feel like he was on the verge of breaking out some jazz hands to dance across the stage and don a top hat. He could sing, but you could tell that his artistry was not a part of him. Ironically, he was a performer that couldn’t really perform well, but boy did he try! In fact, he seemed to be trying so hard to make everyone know that he could do well, he often closed his eyes while crooning or appeared quite mechanical in his movements only to further exacerbate the overall awkwardness of his performance.
After Randy gave his usual critiques about pitch problems and Steve Tyler offered what often comes out like a peyote-induced opine about how beautiful the moment was (I’m not a Steven Tyler hater), J. Lo supplies the aspiring singer with a critique that was so constructive that it could be used to build the career of many an artist. She said, “I don’t want the intensity to come from you wanting to do well; I want the intensity to come because your heart is breaking.”
Jenny from the block nailed it.
In whatever profession we occupy, there can be an over-emphasized focus on high performance that vilifies good intention and even intrinsic talent. It makes an individual calculating and robotic as if controlled by some latent puppet strings.
Ministry is no different. We can be driven by becoming a high performer statistically and creatively to the point that those who are on the receiving end of our service can feel that our efforts to produce life transformation are trite, whimsical, misguided and quite honestly – fake. What people need to feel is passion that comes forth from a broken levee in the heart that can no longer restrain the force of compassion in the cavernous hallways of the human soul. They need to feel our heart breaking as we frame the words of the gospel in sermons and express anthemic praise in songs of worship. They need to feel our hearts as we serve others. People must not struggle to discern where the source of our love originates, rather they should be convinced that the reason why we extend grace, listen attentively, and give with no expectation of return is because our hearts are broken in the same manner Jesus’s was when he wept over Jerusalem.
To be honest, this week has been one of those weeks where the type of performance intensity that is destructive raises its head. You know, bang your head against a wall type stuff. Off of the emotional high of having two large attendance records this Spring, we had a huge attendance dip. I found myself wallowing in melancholy after learning of our attendance dip and defaulted to that ever salient trait of mine – intensity. Why in the world would I be feeling this way? I guess there is this pressure in church planting – internal and external, that makes you want to do well. I’m not attempting to elevate my lot above any other, but it’s what allows me to speak to this subject matter authentically. I’m intense about everything that I do. I’m very passionate, and that emanates from me. However, I realized that performance intensity can convincingly masquerade as burden, and this type of intensity is not gospel-centered. This is not a pass to be aimless in how we conduct our approach to intersecting our lives with others – let’s continue to do all we can to perform well and to present the gospel as beautifully as it deserves to be. However, we must realize that He is the one that must perform through us. Wanting to do well is not inherently bad unless our pursuit is for acclaim that is not derived from pleasing God.
Here’s to our hearts breaking wide open in intensity and love for others.
