They Never Told Me in Bible College that I might have to be the Sound Guy!

In ministry I've always valued the importance of a good sound system, but also learned the system is no better than the person operating it. Further, I don't know too many issues that can cause more disagreement in a church than the volume of the music. It can divide a congregation.

The sound can also make or break the minister's effectiveness, whether he be preacher or singer. When I first arrived at a new pastorate, the Sound Guy (and that by the way, is usually the official designation of the person who operates the sound system), informed me that I would never have to tap the microphone to determine it it was on or not. In fact, he forbade that I do so. He had some experience in the field of sound and had worked professionally with a couple of bands. He promised that he was a proficient and professional Sound Guy and that my mic would always be ready when I was ready. He said that he would watch me constantly and know my habits and patterns so that I would never have to worry about the sound. You know what? He was right. It was wonderful to work with him.

Ultimately he left our church and Robert volunteered to be the Sound Guy. Robert was not as professional as the previous Guy, but in due respect, his experience in the sound field had been cranking up the volume of his favorite heavy metal music he was listening to on his headset. Lest you think I am being critical of Robert, I watched him take his new responsibility seriously and grow in his skills through the following years that he was Sound Guy. On top of the fact that he got better and better, no one could ever play air guitar as well as Robert did when he was in the sound balcony out of sight of everyone but God and me during our Worship Service. Here's to you, Robert!

I never expected to ever have to be the Sound Guy. I am sure most of you will know who Larnell Harris is. Before he became well known and before he recorded and sold as many songs as he has, he came to our church to minister. He had no entourage to accompany him; no sophisticated sound system, no special lighting, no smoke, no nothin' but himself and a case of cassette sound tracks, one song on each cassette tape. He conscripted me to be his Sound Guy.

It sounded simple. We set up the cassette tape player at the front pew just a few feet to Larnell's right on the left front side of the sanctuary in plain sight so everyone could witness the Sound Guy at work. We set up a goose neck mic stand bent down to the speaker on the cassette player so the sound could be carried to the house speakers. He had his tapes all cued, meaning he had already advanced the tape past the blank leader tape that was always on a cassette. The music would begin immedialy, avoiding that awkward silence hissing in the speakers while waiting for the music to start. The tapes were all laid out in the order of performance. It sounded simple.

It sounded simple. Before the service, Larnell explained he did not like to talk too much between songs and that he wanted me to get the next tape into the player as quickly as possible and go ahead and punch the play button. He assured me he would be ready to sing at that precise moment. He went over a few subtle hand signals he would use to have me raise or lower the volume and suggested it would be important for me to pay attention. It sounded simple.

The service began, Larnell was introduced and I was on. I was johnny-on-the-spot at the end of each tape. Punch the 'eject' button, snatch out the concluded tape, pop in the next song and hit 'play' in one fluid motion. Other than the rattling noise of the tapes being manhandled, everything was going pretty smoothly.

It WAS so simple even though I was tightly wound and wanting not to disappoint or distract Larnell. I was clearly picking up his hand signals and ministry was flowing. It was unfolding as we had hoped and I was envisioning myself traveling as Larnell's roadie and Sound Guy. Then it happened.

The song had reached its climax. Larnell ended the song with a flourish and the music stopped. I punched 'eject' and as I did so, suddenly Larnell belted out this amazing acappella note. I was memerized by his talent and ability to give the song such a powerful unplanned finish. Everyone was in awe; you could feel the electricity in the air. God was with us. With an odd look of slight frustration, Larnell gave me a head nod to go ahead and start the next song and we launched into another spectacular moving performance. In my mind, the evening could have been no better. It really was simple.

After the service, Larnell made a beeline to me. I knew he was coming to congratulate me on a job well done and perhaps even offer me the full-time Sound Guy position. Alas, he launched into an explanation that I had essentially hung him out to dry on that one song. But the music had ended, I explained. Turns out, it was just a rest in the song, and what had appeared to be his impromptu spectacular ending would have been even more spectacular had it been accompanied by the dramatic musical conclusion now resting silently on the cassette. So much for simple.

Although the evening was a ministry success and people were leaving blessed and refreshed, I knew immediately and instinctively that any offer of becoming the Sound Guy for Larnell Harris had gone as silent as the blank leader tape on the cassette. It had seemed so simple.