Diffusing the Bomb
June 7, 2010
If your church is in the habit of projecting anything onto the big screen, then there’s a bomb waiting to go off.
The bomb seems to detonate when the creator of a media project presents the final product to the organizational leader.
Boom.
For years, Creative Artists have been told to come under the authority of the Senior Leader, which means they go back and change (or even recreate) the entire media piece. And they do it with a smile, in the name of submission. But if you ask any Creative Artist, they’ll tell you that even though biblical authority and submission is the goal, resentment can creep in and overtake an Artist’s heart.
We’re more interested in defusing this bomb, than in teaching Creative Artists to be quiet. So we’re suggesting two questions for the Creative Artist to ask at the beginning of every project. In a sit-down with the Senior Leader or Teaching Pastor, it becomes more crucial than ever for the Artist to ask these two questions.
Question #1: What do you see? Simply ask that question to the guy in charge. Do you see images or themes? Are you inspired from another church, another video, another branding concept?
Question #2: Where do you want this to end? In the case of video (and sometimes music), the Creator of the media needs to know how to end the piece. Is the piece resolved, or left hanging? Does it end with a question, a bold statement, a series graphic? Should people feel inspired, doubting, wondering?
The Pastor/Teacher’s responsibility is to be prepared to answer these two questions with as much detail as possible. The Creative Artist’s responsibility is to ask these questions, and take notes as answers and ideas are given (writing things down also helps diffuse any potential explosion).
When information like this is exchanged before the project begins, it heightens trust and builds the relationship between leader and artist.
And in the end, isn’t it far better to defuse this bomb, rather than letting it explode?
What’s More Important Than Jesus?
April 5, 2010
When I (Gary) was a pastor, the paid and volunteer leaders got together for a yearly weekend retreat. Most years, we talked about the good, the not-so-good, and the opportunities we had for the future. One year, though, the agenda was thrown out the window.
That was the year we all repented.
Every one of us.
It was as if God Himself showed up in our mountain cabin, and caused us to desperately admit any good ministry task or goal we had inadvertently placed higher than Jesus. As we stood in a circle, our Senior Pastor lead us through this spontaneous process. With our hands held by the people on our right and left, and with our eyes closed tightly, these phrases began to come from our mouths…
* God. I admit that I’ve put the church’s numerical growth above my desire for Jesus.
* God. I confess that I’ve put recruiting new teachers above Jesus Christ.
* God. I confess that I put whatever happens on the big screen higher than what happened at the empty tomb.
Through tears, I confessed that I put what others thought about the music/arts above my heart’s yearning for the Son of God.
Here’s the truth – In any ministry, it’s so easy to put good things above THE thing. When we talk about wanting to build a big church, or recruit great leaders, or perform music with excellence, it all sounds SO good and SO pious.
But when we put those goals above our desire for the presence of Jesus, we’re screwed.
Paul put it this way (Phil. 3:8)…
I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.
So what about you? Is there some good and noble aspect of ministry (paid or volunteer) that you’ve inadvertently placed about your heart’s yearning for Jesus?
Might it be good to repent?
Go ahead. We’re all friends here. It’s only the internet.
But I’m Not Creative…
March 16, 2010
(written by Gary Molander)
My wife does not consider herself to be creative.
During her days, she works full-time as a special education teacher. It’s her job to take the curriculum that the State mandates, and turn it into something that a group of K-thru-2nd Special Needs children will be able to learn.
My wife does not consider herself to be creative.
During her late afternoons and early evenings, she figures out how to get our three daughters to the doctor, the dentist, the orthodontist, the school event, the softball practice, and the drama rehearsal. And somewhere in the middle, she makes dinner happen.
My wife does not consider herself to be creative.
Despite all the evidence to the contrary, if you ask my wife about her creativity, she’d tell you that her husband is the creative one. She’d tell you that her husband is the one who designs stuff, makes videos, writes, and plays music.
She, along with millions of other people have equated being creative with being an artist. The two are absolutely not the same. And most artists I meet are unknowingly perpetuating the myth.
I am unknowingly perpetuating the myth.
Theologically speaking, everyone is creative. It’s simply math, really. We were fashioned and formed in the image of God. God is a creative God. So we’re creative too. We bear the divine imprint of our Maker. Our Creator.
With God, there is a void, and He fills it with himself. For God to be creative, He fills a void with Himself. The creation account speaks to this (it’s called the “creation” account for a reason). The law and the prophets attest. Jesus becomes the ultimate fulfillment of God’s void-filling activity, and His Spirit fills the void every day in our hearts.
Creativity, in the Divine sense, is when we see a void, then fill it with ourselves.
Some of us fill that void with our art – our words, our clay, our paint, our 3-D effects.
But others fill these voids by adapting curriculum so that Special Needs children have a fair chance at living long and full lives.
I feel like I need to repent here. For years, I have drawn a line between those who are creative, and those who are not. And the line I’ve used is art. Artists are creative. Non-artists are not creative. But it’s not even close to God’s understanding of what it truly means to be creative.
We artists really need to be careful. Because when we make creativity and art the same thing, we unintentionally dehumanize another human made in the image of God. By our misunderstanding of creativity, we build up our tribe, while tearing down people like my wife.
Does an artist need to be creative? Yes. But does a Creative need to be an artist?
Absolutely not.
Related posts:
An Amazing Church Experience
January 25, 2010
I just returned from an amazing church experience.
It was very welcoming. Before the service, everyone kept saying, “Welcome. We’re glad you’re here. It’s about to start.” These comments seem to take down some of my barriers as a new person.
During the music portion of the service, I overheard a conversation that someone from the church was having with a guy named Bryan. Bryan was asking a ton of questions about faith. His main question was centered around God the Father. He wanted to know if Jesus (The Christian Faith) and Mohammed (The Muslim Faith) were prophets who both pointed to the same God. I listened (and watched) at how Tyler – a Christian man from the church – walked Bryan through the Christian belief about God. It was loving, and filled with grace. It was also filled with biblical truth.
Then, I heard Bryan make this comment to Tyler: “I just thank God that He loves me, even though I’m gay.” The music was getting softer, so I could experience their conversation fully.
Tyler’s response was amazing: “I used to struggle with that too. But Jesus set me free.”
Tyler went on to lavish grace and truth all over Bryan. It was absolutely amazing.
As they were finishing up their discussion, a self-proclaimed atheist sat down near me, and began a conversation with a woman from the church. By now the sermon was starting, but I still found myself trying hard to listen to this conversation. He was very open about his doubts, but also very kind and gentle. He said it was the first time he’d been to this kind of church, and admitted that he was nervous. They talked about God’s love, demonstrated in the Person of Christ Jesus. The atheist seemed like he was listening. I couldn’t believe that God was allowing me “in” on the beauty of the life that was happening next to me.
The pastor taught everyone about the Holy Spirit. He took a very balanced view, which I appreciate.
By the time it was over, I felt like I had just participated in a true mish-mash of humanity – the kind of crowd Jesus spoke to when He was on the earth. It strengthened my faith to simply be a part of the discussion, even though I didn’t say anything.
I left inspired.
Just one more thing.
The entire church experience was online.
Ministry Porn
January 11, 2010
Most church staff teams attend conferences. When I (Gary) was a pastor, we’d attend various church conferences. These conferences were great at helping form deeper relationships within the staff team. They were also great at helping us disengage from the routine tasks of our local church, and place ourselves within an environment of change, growth, and spiritual/emotional nourishment. Finally, these conferences were great at giving us principles to help guide our ministries into the future.
But there was one thing that these conferences could never do. They could never fulfill on the church portrait they unknowingly painted. In other words, my church would never look like Rick Warren’s church. As a pastor, I could never have what Rick Warren has.
Ever.
Finally, someone far more visible than me is standing up and saying the same thing. Ed Stetzer calls this phenonemon “Ministry Pornography”. Check out what he’s saying, and post your thoughts.
You, Your Personality, and Facebook
December 10, 2009
My buddies and I were laughing yesterday about the different roles people play Facebook. The funny thing is that we found ourselves in so many of the roles, highlighted below…
The Instigator – This person loves to help their friends think critically. They do this by posting a difficult question, a current events link, or a quote. Their goal is to get as many people as possible to give their opinion in response.
The Intercessor – In Christian circles, there are a number of Facebook friends who use it as a motivator to pray.
The Purest – Facebook got its start by simply encouraging people to post their unique answers to this question: What are you doing? This person simply answers that question, once or twice each day.
The Advisor – Whenever anyone posts something like, “I’m having a bad day at work”, or “Thinking about eating at Red Robin”, the Advisor quickly posts their advice. As the name implies, they’re always ready to give it, whether the initial post asks for it, or not. “Just give it to God”, or “You should try the Monster Burger”, are phrases the Advisor might use.
The Scheduled Responder – These are the people who, at a designated time every day, respond to all posts, one after the other after the other. They view their responses as a task to be completed. Once they’re completed, they log out. Until the next designated time.
The Opinionator – This is the person who will always give her opinion on your post. You may not ask for her opinion, but even as you WRITE YOUR POST, you know her opinion is coming – it’s just a matter of time. Unlike the Advisor, they’re not trying to help you figure something out. They’re simply telling you what you should believe.
The Lurker – This is the person who never types his own status updates, but is very interested in keeping up with the lives of his Facebook friends. Curiosity motivates the Lurker to spend a lot of time on Facebook, but fear and insecurity prevent him from contributing.
The Gamer – This is the person who gets on Facebook as a Purest, but transforms into a Gamer by playing games, taking personality tests, or sending gifts. You know you’ve got a Gamer as a friend if, after six months, you still have no idea what’s going on in their life; but you know that their personality most closely resembles Britney Spears.
The Skeptic – This term describes anyone who is not on Facebook, because he refuses to see any real potential. Secretly, he may be scared to try something new.
The Cook – This is the person who thinks it’s vitally important that everyone knows what he’s eating, and where he’s eating it. The Cook can graduate to the title of “The Chef” if he posts a picture of the food he’s currently eating.
The Humorist – As the name implies, these are people who simply make the rest of us laugh. They have a unique way of writing, and have learned to use words as a paintbrush that makes light of the crap we all go through every day.
So the obvious question is: Which one (or two?) are you?
I suppose this post describes the true beauty of what Facebook offers. It offers relationship, and it offers diversity. And sometimes, I wonder if I go deeper relationally on Facebook than I do on Sunday morning.
Just the kind of closing comment an Instigator would write.
Blessings to you – Gary Mo
How to Burnout
November 2, 2009
Just before my youngest daughter went to sleep, she walked down to the couch where I was planted. The remote had become affixed to my hand. She made what would become a life-changing observation. With the innocence and simplicity of a 7 year-old, she said, “Dad… it seems like you’re always tired or mad.”
Up to that point, I had been a full-time, licensed, marry-and-bury, lead-worship-and-preach, pastor for seventeen very full-time years. But secretly, I wanted out. So I did what any people-fearing pastor would do. I didn’t tell anyone.
Until the Rams played the Steelers on Monday Night Football, in November 2004.
The Rams were losing that night, which put me in an awful mood. My mood carried into a garage cleanliness discussion with my wife – a discussion that eventually elevated to knock-down, drag-out proportions. My three daughters hid in their rooms while Dad spewed verbal wildfire all over the house.
I had become the man I promised never to become.
Burnout was never something I saw coming; but when it hit me, I was absolutely leveled. And the part of burnout I missed was this: The root cause of burnout had nothing to do with being tired, overworked, or underpaid (although I clearly possessed all three). For me, burnout happened when I became increasingly unable to inject my unique blend of passion and personality into an environment that could help meet a legitimate need in the world. That’s a clinical way of saying that I was a square peg in a round hole. My dreams were a million miles away from the dreams the position of “pastor” could provide.
My friend Jim tells me that burnout is “an exhaustion of the will”. I think he’s right. And when I look back on the whole experience, I see that a church staff environment can become a breeding ground for burnout. Here’s how it got a hold of me.
I lost grace. I had slowly become someone who was more interested in maintaining the standard than in helping those who couldn’t meet it. Everything and everyone began to frustrate me. Key leaders. Musicians. Graphic Designers. Web guys. Drummers who thought “softer” meant “slower”. Everyone.
I dreamed of other occupations. I’d wonder what it would be like to be a school teacher, a filmmaker, a circuit speaker, a barista, or best of all – an entrepreneur who owned his own business.
I dreaded the end of vacations. Two days before my vacations ended, I began to get in bad moods, and would have given anything to just drive to Montana, find a cabin, and live in seclusion for the rest of my days (I think that’s also called “depression”).
I didn’t believe anything noteworthy was being accomplished. I felt like I was putting in my time just to maintain the program, not to change the world.
I experienced increased migraines. We all have one prominent physical ailment that exerts itself when our emotions are undernourished. For me, it’s always been migraines.
Nothing was going to change at the church. More importantly, nothing was going to change in my heart. So the morning after the Ram’s loss, I met with the Senior Pastor of my church and resigned.
My first two months out of pastoral ministry were like an HD video with a heavy Gaussian Blur. My only desire was to make breakfast every morning, then take the girls to school. There was literally nothing beyond that. Somewhere during that time, God led me to purchase “The Journey of Desire” by John Eldredge. For the first time in my life, I could actually discern my own God-given desires OUTSIDE of the assumptions of pastoral work in a local church. Through an emotional 15-month process, I discovered me.
I discovered that I love being a dad, and that I had a lot of making up to do. I discovered that I am a risk-taker, and an entrepreneur. I discovered that I love to preach, but with media, not spoken words. I discovered that I needed to live into, and out of, a Kingdom-grace in all of my relationships with people. I discovered that I needed to stop following the principles of Jesus, and start following His person. And finally, I discovered that I was a terrible employee, and that I needed to be the leader, but one who leads from the middle of a group of close friends.
Talk to anyone who’s found the exact point where their God-given passions intersect with the world’s greatest need, and you won’t find burnout at those crossroads. Talk to any leader who’s living the exact dream God’s given them, while making a difference in the world, and burnout simply isn’t present. That’s because they’re pouring their lives into people and systems (and here’s the key), because it’s exactly what THEY WANT TO be doing. Label it “calling”, “passion”, or “desire”. Call it whatever you want, but these people would be doing this exact job for no money at all.
Burnout is a very real thing. I’m not questioning its existence. I’m questioning its cause. And I really don’t think the root cause is being overworked and underpaid. I think the primary cause is our inability to marry our deepest God-given passions and desires to a structure or organization where we honestly believe that God can change the world.
Through us.
(This article will appear in the November/December issue of Collide Magazine. And the only reason we can post it here is because Scott is a super-nice guy).
A Room Full of Artists
August 27, 2009
How do you know what the Creative Arts Staff and Volunteers in the local church are thinking? Simple. Put them in a room with no Lead Pastors, no Church Executives, and no Church Elders. Now add a dose of other artists: Worship pastors, filmmakers, web designers, a couple of painters, and a host of graphic artists.
And it happens.
Authentic conversation.
“You feel that way too? I thought I was the only one.”
So to help Lead Pastors and Church Executives lead from a place of accuracy and honesty, listen to the voice of the people who are in that room. They are artists. They are evangelists. And they are limping.
Theirs is a cry. And here’s what they’re saying…
Please give me more time. This is, without a doubt, the most common desire heard from artists and media folks. And because teaching pastors live in hundreds of one-week cycles, anyone attached to the creation of the big event at the end of those cycles will logically only have a week to prepare. The artists we listen to wish Executive Leaders would understand that they can’t simply click the “Be Creative” button, and then turn it off when they’re done – that creativity comes in the middle of the night, or in the shower, or while they’re mowing their lawn.
If I say “no” to you, I feel like I’m saying “no” to God. You may think this is crappy theology (and it is), but many artists feel like God speaks to the Senior Pastor, then the pastor speaks to the staff with God’s message. There is enormous potential freedom for the artist when a pastor says, “It’s okay to tell me no.”
Above all else, I want you to be pleased with my art. Artists need to know that you like the stuff they create. They also need to know that their art is impacting the lives of real people. Names and faces help artists make it real.
I spend more money out of my own pocket than you’ll ever know. When God plants an artistic idea deeply into the heart of a filmmaker or a graphic designer, they cannot NOT create it. And much of the time, their creation consists of elements that cost money. Conversely, they already know that the church doesn’t have any money to spend. So it comes out of their pocket.
Ultimately, I want to get this right. Most artists desperately want to do whatever is best. They’re willing to change and revise their art. They’re willing to re-shoot, or re-envision an idea. They just don’t want for a constant re-envisioning of their art to become the norm during the entire life-cycle of the project.
But here’s the real danger to this whole discussion. Tragically, I’ve only met a couple of Executive Leaders who think they need to read an article like this.
Never Trust an Artist
July 1, 2009
I am an artist. I’ve always wondered why the average Senior Pastor has a hard time trusting our tribe. I used to think their lack of trust was completely unfounded. But as I get older, and as I become more in touch with being an artist myself, I’m beginning to understand why. I’ve noticed some tendencies that seem to be consistent among artists I know who are getting paid by churches.
I have never met an artist who displays ALL of the following list of characteristics. But some of us display some of them. And it’s important for us to have the courage to look in the mirror, and to NOT respond with a defensive victim mentality.
1. Artists commit, then forget. Ask an artist to “get me that document”, or to “forward me that email”, and we’ll tell you “Sure. Right after lunch.” And we never think about it again. Until an organized person in charge reminds us.
2. Artists don’t write anything down. We honestly think we’ll remember. The best friend an artist can have is a senior pastor who gently whispers, “Did you want to write that down?”
3. Artists live one wrong decision away from disaster. Most people live 9-10 bad choices away from personal ruin. Many artists walk as closely to the line as they can because of the risk, and the rush.
4. Artists lie. Not all, but some. We lie to cover ourselves when we’re guilty of #1 or #2.
5. Artists struggle to see the bigger narrative they’re living in. Sometimes, we think our stories are the biggest, and the most important stories being told. The senior pastor, really more than anyone else in the church, sees the clearest portrait of the church’s big picture. Senior pastors get ticked when the church won’t fulfill her biblical mandate. Artists get ticked when their guitar strings break.
6. Artists gossip. Not all, but some. Much of the time, we’re gossiping about the Senior Pastor who refuses to trust us.
7. Artists deflect blame. Our first reaction is usually to find someone else to blame the problem on. Then we engage in #4. An hour later, we engage in #6.
There’s a pattern here. It always boils down to two things. If Christian artists could simply learn two things, we’d be a lot better off, and we’d make more of an impact on those exposed to the art we create.
First, we need to learn to follow through. Do what we say. Say what we do. Never walk into a staff meeting without a yellow pad and a pen, a Daytimer, or the IPhone “Notes” App open. Immediately following every meeting, we need to transfer our to-do notes onto something we’ll look at every day – our main computer, our wall, our secretary’s forehead. Paint an office wall with chalkboard paint, and create a special drawing every week, made up of to-do’s.
Second, we need to take personal responsibility more seriously. When we don’t meet a deadline because we forgot, we simply need to be honest about that. We need to have the courage to simply say, “I’m sorry. I forgot. I’ll take care of it immediately, then give you an update later today.”
Our world would be flat without artists. But our world would never move in any positive direction without leaders. May we all be willing to look hard in the mirror, and learn that artistry and leadership are not opposing or competing gifts. I pray that every true artists takes their leadership responsibility more seriously than ever.
Media From 30,000 Feet
May 26, 2009
There is a view of media from the ground level. Much has been written about this particular viewpoint. It’s the stuff that slams Christian creatives every day:
* What’s the best way to encode a video if size is the key issue?
* My pastor just had a brainstorm, and now I need to work all weekend. How do I stay creative and positive?
* How do I respond when staff members miss the weekly bulletin deadline?
* How can I add a click track to a video so the band can be in sync with it?
* Should I start a blog? Should I keep my blog when no one reads it?
* How soon should I be expected to get our church’s website updated?
* We need more volunteers. Who are they? Where are they? How can I reach them?
Everyday stuff. Challenges everyone in a media position will face. They’re all great questions, and they’re all from the ground level.
But what happens when we jump into an airplane, and leave the ground? If you could free yourself from your unique daily challenges and expectations for a short time, and take a step up to see your ministry with the eyes that once launched your dreams in the first place, what would be there?
As we’re sitting on the plane, two courageous questions move us in the right direction:
Question #1: What do I hope to accomplish?
Ministering in any capacity—whether part-time or full-time—has a way of making us forget what we truly hope for. The daily urgent makes us forget our dreams. When we create anything, what are we hoping will happen to those who view our creation?
For me, every time I create a mini-movie for the church, I’m hoping that all who watch it will experience a stirred heart. There are reasons, but that’s for another time and place.
How about you? What are you hoping for? When you’re sitting in the airplane looking at your own creative heart, and you remind yourself of your hopes and dreams, what’s there? What has God spoken over and over to your heart?
Question #2: Is my behavior at ground level leading me into my hope at 30,000 feet?
I’m convinced that vision is not the key factor in realizing our deepest hopes and dreams. Neither are core values, mission statements, a talented staff team, or intentions. All of these things are important, and all play a part. But they are most definitely not the key to everything.
The one thing that has the power to make or break our God-given hopes and dreams is…
Our behavior.
Behavior at the ground level. The conscious decisions we make every day. The plans we execute.
Artists are great at having another new idea. But we can become extremely passive and scattered with the execution of our ideas, with consistent behavior that will lead us into our new idea. We can spew vision, mission, and intention all day long. But if our behavior and our plans don’t lead us into our hopes and dreams, then we’ll feel flat.
And we’ll question everything.
If the videos we create at Floodgate Productions do not stir hearts, I promise you that the answer can be found in the daily choices we make with regard to scripting processes, actors, locations, musical underscore, and other factors. The choices we make daily determine whether our deepest hopes are realized.
Or not.
So if you were to express your hopes and dreams for the stuff you create, and if you were to write it all down WITHOUT editing yourself, what would it say? What do you really hope will happen as a result of your labor? Be unedited. Smile. Cry. Cuss. Don’t worry about proper punctuation. Just answer honestly.
And, while you’re looking at your unedited page of hopes and dreams, will you have the courage to ask yourself: Is my daily behavior leading me into my hopes? Into my dreams?
If not, it’s time to change your behavior. Because your hopes and dreams will never go away.
They’ll just become a thorn of frustration.









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