Firing a musician to regain a friend

I know we’ve all been there: You meet your best friends at a church camp, find out they all play instruments, and wind up in your garage with a “worship” band covering your favs from Delirious.

That is exactly the beginning of this story.

Fast forward to today, I’ve been friends with this group of people for a long time now, and now that I lead worship for the junior high ministry at my church, these people are all obvious candidates for players in the band.

Sometimes though, having friends in the band can be a very hurtful thing.

Now, at this point in time, it’s not too late for you to turn back. If your relationship with your favorite guitar player is great, then this post is not for you. However, I’m quite certain that I am not the only one in the world to experience this series of events, and if I can shed some light on your situation, I’d like to do so.

I’ve been friends with Jon since our sophomore year of high school, which puts us at 7 years of “best friend”ship while I write this post.

He and I have been jamming for the majority of those years, with the occasional pulling over by the feds, and late night Del Taco runs on the way to the beach; guitars in tow.

He’s been beside me as I began an internship that eventually become a full time job at our church, and was the Best Man in my wedding.

This last week was a difficult one for me.

A little about me: I suffer from self induced anxiety- usually brought on by a low self-esteem and fear of rejection/push-back. I’m also the “new guy” on staff, having only worked full-time at the church for 10 months now. I can relate my anxiety to conversations that I have with one person in particular on staff, but recently it started to grow towards having conversations with Jon.

As I was talking with one of my co-workers, he had made it pretty clear to me that there was something going on between Jon and myself; a tension that could be recognized by anyone on the staff.

Sadly, I had to pony up and realize that I was trying to compartmentalize our friendship, keeping it separate from the weekend music. However, the problem was that music is one of the focal points that our friendship thrives on.

Now, before I continue, I should mention a little bit about Jon (I’m going to try and be as honest as possible, all while making sure that I do not deface him).

Jon has had a tough life growing up. I’ve experienced with him his acceptance of Christ, his family ostracizing for his faith, his thoughts on suicide, his mother’s death, and most recently his financial struggles on the road to marriage.

As you can see, he’s come a long way, but definitely has junk in his life that needs unpacking.

And that’s where this whole train got derailed.

Y’see, at some point in time, I got some crazy notion in my mind that I was better, or that I should pity Jon. I think that was the foundation of my warped treatment for him. I stopped looking at him as an equal and friend, and more like someone in my ministry, who just needs a good talking to.

Looking back, I think this started sometime after being offered the position of an intern at the church. Not being certain of all my responsibilities, I think I took it upon myself to make up a few; some of which included “the belittling of my friends while in the band and pointing out their great need for Jesus”.

Yes, feel free to leave a comment calling me a jackass.

Over the years I had developed a tendency to take in his comments/suggestions and try to bend over backwards to make him happy, all for the sake of “caring” for a friend who had had a rough life. I tried to sugar coat conversations, dumbing down my comments about what I know God would have him do, to what I think God might want him to do. All of this was done at the expense of my own feelings, allowing myself to become bitter towards him, all while completely managing this whole thing. I finally realized that I had hurt him more by trying to not hurt his feelings.

I came clean. We sat down in the church café and had a talk.

I told him that I would “fire” him from the band before I let this go any farther. If God wants a lead electric guitar on the stage, God will put one there. I don’t need Jon to be that guitar player, I need Jon to be my friend. That friendship cannot be replaced.

When it was Jon’s turn to speak to me, his anger with me had diffused. Everything that he had wanted to say to me had simply been caused by the way that I had treated him. Knowing that I cared above all else, and recognized my faults made all the difference in the conversation.

Jon knows who he is, and he knows that there are things that he struggles with and needs help, but he doesn’t need a lecture from me, he needs me as a friend.

In retrospect, honesty really would have been the best policy from the beginning, but sometimes the best policies look like a big suck-fest. Don’t let that detour you from doing what you know is best.

When’s the last time your musicians were pissed at you?