Why 'Worship Leader' Isn’t in Ephesians 4 (And Why That Matters)

Several years ago, during a moment of sudden insight, a college friend of mine argued that “worship leader” wasn’t a legitimate role in the church since it doesn’t appear in Ephesians 4.

Normally, these kinds of ministry debates don’t catch my attention, but this time I was intrigued. Was it possible that the Apostle Paul (presumably) overlooked us—the ones who “usher in God’s presence” and “prepare the way” for God’s people to meet with him? Even Paul had moments when he was obtuse. 

My friend was right in noting that “worship leader” doesn’t show up in the list of roles or gifts in Ephesians 4. But don’t worry—neither does “youth pastor!” I’m only half-joking. Still, it’s worth asking: What does this mean? It doesn’t mean everything, but it certainly doesn’t mean nothing either.

For this to happen, certain roles and structures within the Church will also grow and change. In the New Testament, churches often gathered in homes. During the Middle Ages, most churches met in cathedrals. Today, in the 21st century, there are faithful, Jesus-loving believers meeting in living rooms and in sanctuaries alongside 5,000 others. The expression of the Church has always evolved across times and places.

What I want to highlight is that, while certain things must never change for the Church to remain the Church, we do have a wide range of freedom in how we gather, make disciples, and proclaim the gospel as witnesses to Christ and his kingdom. Throughout history, many streams of the Church have explored the breadth of this freedom, leading to functional roles like “kids pastor,” “youth pastor,” “outreach pastor,” and “worship leader.”

Because our language tells on us. And most of us self-describe as “worship leaders” rather than “worship pastors.” 

For some, this might feel uncomfortable, and that’s understandable. You might think, “I haven’t had pastoral training,” or, “I’m not licensed or ordained.” If that’s you, there’s no shame in it. And just to be clear, I’m not anti-leadership. But I do think it’s worth noticing how often our language prioritizes leadership over pastoring—and how that can be problematic. (And if your email signature says “Worship LEADER,” no judgment here.)

In his book The Worship Pastor, Zac Hicks opens with a chapter titled, “Ready or not, you’re a Pastor.” How I wish I had grasped that a decade earlier. But honestly, that’s probably how many of us feel. We think we’re simply being asked to lead songs, only to realize later we’ve been invited into the work of pastoring.

So what does it look like to move toward being a “worship pastor”? 

First – it looks like awareness. 

Awareness that you are filling a pastoral role, awareness that the things you’re doing are pastoral tasks, and awareness that the people you’re leading, you are also – more importantly – pastoring. As you are becoming aware you will begin to think about your job from the perspective of a pastor. 

• What do these songs communicate about the character of God? 

• How are people in our community learning to approach God? 

• What kind of environment am I curating in the rehearsals I lead? 

These are all pastoral kinds of questions. 

Second – becoming a worship pastor means being intentional to make decisions toward the call to make disciples. 

This is where the job will change most dramatically.

There are countless ways to plan meaningful sets and craft rich, faithful liturgies for worship. No question about that. But the approaches that truly reflect our calling are the ones shaped pastorally — by someone who genuinely cares about, and is intentional with, what is sung, spoken, and practiced when God’s people gather.

And this isn’t something we master overnight. My hope is that every Sunday I facilitate worship in any capacity, I grow a little more as a worship pastor.

If you ever feel inadequate in this work, you’re not alone.

God has a history of using the weak to confound the strong, and the humble to confound the proud. Let’s not allow our insecurities to keep us from offering what we truly have to give—God himself, shared with others through the gift of our lives. And how does that happen? That’s a pastoral question.