About Mark Pierson

Husband to one, father to four, grandfather to four. Garden variety pastor by trade. No garden at present. Lover of electronic music and installation art. Either by anyone. Inspired by the work of Brian Eno, Bruce Ramus, Special Problems, Jugglers Art Space, SJD, Willie Williams, Steve McQueen, Mike Riddell, Todd Fadel, Urban Seed, Oscar Romero, Stephen Proctor, Bill Viola, Len Lye, Nam June Paik, and Feist.

The Curator Responds

Mid-August, we invited you to come up with a question about worship curation and send it to us for Mark Pierson to answer in his talk at the STORY, Chicago conference, September 15-16. A great bunch of questions were sent in. Unfortunately, the format for his live presentation at STORY wasn’t given to answering these particular questions. Still, we couldn’t leave you hanging!

We’ve included in this post a personal note from Mark, along with the questions you submitted and his responses in writing.

From Mark: My apologies to those who submitted questions for me to respond to at STORY Conference in Chicago recently. In the end the time-frame and setting didn’t allow for what I had planned. So I will attempt some sort of answer here. Thank you for your questions!

-Mark


 

Mark, how can the model of curating be applied in a more traditional liturgical setting, like the Lutheran church I currently serve in, where it seems that creativity is often scoffed at as “contemporary”?

Drew Yoos, Lutheran youth minister in South Carolina, USA

Drew, I assume that “contemporary” in your setting is a bad thing! I would tend to find one aspect of your worship event – perhaps prayers for others or prayer of confession – and do something with that moment only. Don’t introduce it with, “This morning we are going to do something different,” just go straight into it, “For our prayers of intercession this morning I am going to show you some headlines from this weeks newspapers/tv (put them on the screen, or hand sheets of newspaper around.) I invite you to silently make your prayer for whatever the headline brings to your mind. After a few seconds I will say, “Lord Hear Us,” and invite you to respond, “Lord Hear Our Prayer.” (Or whatever you usually use in your setting.) Then over time and doing something from time to time you can build up the level of comfort and creativity and participation. It’s slow, but the intention is not to dump our creativity on people but to enable them to better engage with God.

How do you avoid worship becoming about emotionalism while trying to set a reflective tone with young people?

Russell Lloyd, Creative director for a school mission organization in Melbourne, Victoria, AU

Aussie young people emotional in Church!! I thought that only happened at AFL games Russell. I don’t actually think this is a big risk, although it is directed quite a bit by the way you introduce the elements of your worship and what ways you ask young people to respond.

On the other side of that, there is the truth that we need to engage hearts at some level and not just heads if we are to see any real commitment to following Jesus in meaningful ways that aren’t an overlay on a current life but have some formative and transformative element to it.

Stick with the biblical text, help people engage with that story.

I think my response is really to say that if you are asking this question you are very unlikely to ever fall into the trap. You are already aware.

What is the worst thing you can do as a curator to make worship difficult for your community? (We recognise the small mistakes we make, but what are the bigger fundamental errors?)

Alison Squires, Christian aid and development worker in Auckland, NZ

Wow, difficult question Alison. The mistakes are probably unique to each of us. We all have our blind spots which is why we need to be constantly reflecting and reviewing and being held accountable for what we do.

Perhaps, if I was pushed, I would say that the worst error a worship curator can make is to not care deeply for the people at worship, and for seeing that the community engages with God in transformative ways. Then the curator is about ego and control and arrogance. Not a good look. But one I see too often in worship leaders (i.e. musical leaders). A good curator has to be willing to let her best and most creative idea drop, even at the last minute, if it doesn’t  support what she wants to say in the worship event. That’s about knowing yourself and knowing your people.

Do you play to both literalist and allegorical readings of the text/theme? Do you find that if you play to one, that you “lose” the others who “don’t get it?” What kind of choices do you make to comfort and stretch people from their ways of seeing and knowing?

Kathy Keener-Han, PCUSA interim pastor in Appleton, Wisconsin, USA

Hi Kathy, I do tend to play both sides of the fence, but not consistently. I assume we are talking mostly about stations based worship. I would always have a range of stations that covered not only a variety of ways into the text but a variety of ways of responding, too. Then, what may have been quite a literal reading may get interpreted in paint or clay and that shifts the response.  So you pick up different people in different ways and at different levels. That’s what I love about stations-based worship events.

I do try to be honest with the text and so do a lot of exegesis and study of it so I understand what it is and isn’t saying, what its context is, etc.

By covering a range of possibilities, even subtly different, I find there are few complainers. (Apart from those who would complain whatever I did.)

You suggest in your book that being attentive to community needs and input is important, but trying to curate a worship experience as a team is difficult. As a curator do you have any advice about balancing the input of others with your creative vision for a worship experience?

Brian Beckstrom, Campus pastor in Waverly, Iowa, USA

I wish I did Brian. I admit that I have been at worship curating for a very long time now and I find it quite difficult to work with absolute beginners. So, my modus operandi tends to be that if I am responsible for the worship event, I take responsibility and pull in others to check, comment, evaluate, contribute to what I have put out. I then revise and change according to the advice given. This might take weeks of back and forth. If I am curating, I am carrying the can, so I need to step up to do that.

My involvement with other worship curating teams tends to be that they send me what they plan to do and I comment on what I think will work and what won’t. Then they take or ignore my advice! But they take responsibility for it, and if I participate in the worship event I will write them a brief evaluation of how I thought it went.

In a church setting I would be meeting weekly with people who were assigned to put together worship (if it was weekly). I would always want a designated curator, even if it wasn’t me. Too much falls through the cracks otherwise. Someone has to take the lead.

How can interactivity be integrated in the standard Evangelical or non-denominational style worship service? The performer/congregant paradigm doesn’t readily accomodate community and collaboration, yet it seems to be growing in terms of “market share” of churches using this model. Rather than shoehorning competitive models (liturgical, pentecostal) into the Evangelical world, how can the Evangelical model be challenged, subverted, or mutated into a curation-friendly service?

Paul Gratton, Weiv interactive worship tool designer, Prineville, Oregon, USA

Ohhhh Paul! That’s a $10,000 question. I think that everything I have said in answer to the other questions, particularly Drew’s, is appropriate here. You have to start small, with some internal aspect of the service, and build slowly from there.

Otherwise start something new on the side. Regular or occasional. Treat it as a mission of the church. Don’t expect anyone from existing congregations to attend, but some will. Over time they will be exposed to a variety of approaches and that will make it easier to blend those aspects into the main event. You will also be modelling what you have in mind which makes it a lot easier for people to grasp it than just trying to explain it.

Image (video still) © The Work of the People

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Are Pastors Killing Artists?

Tomorrow evening I’m speaking to a first-time gathering of artists and creatives at one of the larger churches in New Zealand. While they come from the charismatic, evangelical category of worship, the categories are much less rigid in NZ than they are in the USA.

The brief is to “talk about your experience of the interaction between art and worship in a Church such as ours. How can artists be incorporated more… anything that might inspire people!”

I have been invited by the senior pastor, which is a very good start as nothing of significance will happen in this church without his support and permission.

His language gives me hope in that he uses the word “interaction” and “artists.” I have been part of a church where the vision statement was “to use the arts more.” Read “to abuse the arts more,” and to “abuse artists more.”

To have integrity for the church and for the artists the interaction must be about artists rather than about art. It’s the artists who are part of the worshipping community and its they who need to have expression for their gifts, and access to engagement with God through those gifts, in the same way those with singing or musical roles do.

Most churches are more interested in getting a recognisable painting of Jesus to hang on the sanctuary wall than they are of an abstract interpretation of an artists engagement with what God has done in their life in allowing Jesus to die on the cross.

So I’ll be talking about that important distinction, and why I don’t think this church will actually allow their artists to interact in any significant way with their worship. Its simply too dangerous for most senior pastors and leadership teams. It’s too open-ended. It’s not measurable. It’s not containable in a nice box: it hangs over the edges and the lid won’t fit on. The moment an artist gets beyond simple description and into the depths of interpretation there is the potential, even likelihood, of the “C” word.

Controversy. No pastor likes controversy. Pastors will defend theological minutae to the death (theirs and their congregation’s), but an artist who causes controversy among those who pay their salary? They will allow that person to be hung out to dry. I often hear stories of this happening. While I can understand it. It is wrong.

This is exactly why we need artists contributing to the life of our churches. In worship and other ways. They bring insights and challenges that unsettle and question in ways that nothing else can. It’s in this opening up that God can speak to us. Particularly to those of us who are less through spoken words and more through visual media.

Even if the pastor who has invited me to speak does support these artists, I know there are strong people in leadership who will react badly at the first whiff of oil paint they don’t understand. Will this pastor be willing to stand in that gap between the artist and the leader, or the artist and some vocal members? That’s the role of the pastor in my opinion. It’s a role very few pastors are willing to take, and a support and permission that artists in most churches lack.

I’ll be saying that tomorrow as well. Might as well get it all out there so they have something to talk about after I leave.

This church has a tagline ‘No perfect people allowed.’ We’ll soon see how true the inverse of that is – are only those who consider themselves, or others, imperfect allowed? I’ll be putting that to the test.

I’m not great at saying hard things clearly and directly, but this is my intention tomorrow night. What would you say if you were in my situation? I’ll let you know how I get on.

This post originally appeared on Creative Worship Tour, October 28, 2009.

Image © iStockphoto

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How Do You Decide If Worship Is “Good” or a Success?

This post originally appeared on Creative Worship Tour, September 23, 2009.

Today I printed off the production file for the World Vision Australia worship I am curating in two weeks time. Ninety minutes of non-singing, art installation-based stations worship built around the theme of “Lingering With Intent” – the intent to hear from God, to give thanks to God, and to seek God’s guidance for the year ahead. More than thirty pages describing “what I want to say”, the site locations, concepts and design for each station, equipment lists, station notes and so on. Fifty iterations of thirteen different stations.

Thirty pages, eighty hours of my work, more from other peoples contributions, twelve people installing on the day before (five making the trip from New Zealand). I have already made two site visits, and will spend another four days on my next visit to install and curate and pack out the worship, for five-hundred people.

Is it all worth it? How will I know?

How do we measure the success or otherwise of worship? Should we? My early posts made it clear that I believe worship can be unsuccessful. What makes the difference?

I’m not talking about trying to evaluate or measure the worship of any individual, that can only be known by the individual and God. I’m interested in the degree to which the way the event is curated enables or hinders the worship of individuals and the community at the worship.

I believe very strongly that the way I curate a public worship event has a huge impact on the ability or not of people to worship (to respond to the Trinitarian community of God, heart soul, mind, strength, as I have defined worship previously). I believe this to be equally true of a community of faith at worship 11am Sunday and a sacred space curated in a public place for anyone to engage with at 3pm Wednesday.

It worries me that we too often do not, or are not willing to, evaluate what we do in worship. We somehow assume that because its worship, that God will take anything we offer, and that to evaluate that in any way is somehow just not appropriate. Again I would say that I am not concerned about the way people actually worship or the content of those interactions with God, but about evaluating the way I curate worship.

So how do I decide if worship is “good” or successful? How do I know if what I have prepared for World Vision is good worship? Not by counting the accolades from people as they leave, although an ego rub doesn’t go astray! And genuine responses, especially those that describe a specific response/encounter/experience are a welcome part of any evaluation. But they aren’t enough on their own, and a zero response does not necessarily indicate poor worship.

I decide before the worship begins.

If I have done the very best I can do given the resources available, I consider it good worship. The problem with this definition is that it doesn’t hold up for worship done by other people! You may have noticed that I can be quite critical of worship events I attend/participate in. It would be arrogant and presumptuous of me to assume that the curators of those events hadn’t given it their best. They probably have. What they lacked often was experience, or alternative models, or some basic principles. So I am in trouble with my definition.

I’ve not analysed this process of evaluation before, but here goes.

Giving it my best involves measuring myself against a number of elements:
1. Staying true to my working definition of worship.
2. Analysing the category of worship required (community, transitional, guerilla)
3. Carefully answering the question, “What do I want to say?”
4. Collaborating with people I trust to reflect back to me criticism and affirmation.
5. Being still long enough and often enough to hear what God is saying to me about what I am doing as I do it.
6. Constantly imagining the “congregation” responding and how they will know what is expected of them at any point. This helps me remember the range of “ages and stages” present and to clarify my instructions.
7. Praying and imagining through the whole event on paper. This helps me see segues and transitions that are needed, as well as how the elements flow or not.
8. Doing the work of exegesis and understanding well any biblical text involved.

What other criteria do you think are important?

So I “know” that this worship is good. Sounds arrogant but it isn’t. I am totally dependent on the Holy Spirit turning up in 500 different ways. I can’t engage people with God, but I can set them on a path toward that possibility. To do that I have used all the gifts, experience, intuition, creativity and knowledge that God has given me. I can do no more except pray that God will step into the gaps on the day. I believe she will.

What do you reckon? Have I missed the boat?

image © iStockphoto

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Content and Context: Getting the Balance Right?

I recently experienced worship in a very beautiful space. The curator had gone to a massive amount of effort to curate a space that was almost overwhelmingly beautiful and detailed. The building was very ordinary – a 1960’s, 120 degree wedge shape made out of concrete blocks. The curator hung 16 huge 2m x 4m (6ft x 12ft) sheets of handmade paper from wires across the high ceiling. These were painted and projected onto. Stacks of shredded paper, a table made from ice, a large flaming centrepiece of pumice stone, 12 potted flax bushes, various soft coloured lighting washes, a central and one either side video projectors, all contributed to the mystery and wonder of this multi-layered environment in which worship was taking place.

The worship itself was what I would describe as ambient, open-ended and stations-based. In other words after a brief introduction where some of the art and symbolism was introduced, people were encouraged to respond in whatever ways they wanted, to whatever they sensed God was saying to them. The invitation was made to move around and engage with the various ‘activities’ (stations) available in the space in the expectation of also engaging with God. Much more than a weeks work had gone into making the works of art and setting up the space. Probably more like two or three full weeks. It was magnificent, and a fitting recognition of the creativity and beauty of the God we serve.

Not everyone present was Christian. One older Kiwi Bloke from beyond the fringes of The Faith was heard to comment, “I don’t know what that was about but it was bloody good,” Other less colourful but no less sincere comments indicated that many people had encountered God in the worship event. A worship curator can’t ask for more than that. I love this kind of installation based worship. Love it. And this was well done.

The weakness of it, for me, was a shortage of content. I have been known to say that context is more important than content when it comes to worship. I do that mostly for effect, wanting to emphasise the much-neglected context. The strong point of the worship I described above was its context. The weak point was its content. The curator would acknowledge that. He’s a conceptual artist and one of the most creative people I know. That’s his strength.

I just wasn’t quite sure what to grasp onto for reflection during the event. I needed some strong biblical text to form the backbone of the worship installation and therefore give me a ‘reflecting off’ point. In my experience of curating installation worship spaces, many people encounter God in ways that I didn’t imagine when I put the worship together, and on themes not directly connected with the one I put up. That is great. Its how it should be if the trinitarian community of God is present. But as a punter coming in from the outside I like something to grab onto and work over in my mind and heart. A biblical story, theme, text to explore. At least as a starting place. This gives what is otherwise unguided and non-linear worship some shape and content. Something to hang your heart on. Its particularly important when not-Christian or young-Christian punters are engaging in the worship. The content, the Story, is what makes our worship Christian. What takes it beyond an art gallery.

Most worship today is overly content laden. Too little emphasis is given to the context. I am delighted to know that there are at least a few people, like my friend, who are emphasising the context. It’s not one or the other. A good curator emphasises both.

This was originally posted on Creative Worship Tour, July 29, 2009.

image © iStockphoto

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The Church of/for the Depressed Melancholic

This post originally appeared on Creative Worship Tour, August 26, 2009.

I’ve been struggling this past week. With external forces and with some within.

I have watched helplessly and very sadly while the lengthy marriages of two sets of friends have disintegrated, and a friend has been forced out of pastoral leadership in the church he had led, very ably in my opinion, for just a couple of years.

Internally I am very weary. Too much working, with too many deadlines and too many balls being juggled, over too long a period. Eventually it catches up and the body and mind scream out for a break. Or rather they begin to shut down and functioning well gets more difficult. Its familiar territory for me. I’ve been there many times. Every time I swear I will learn and do better in the future. I promise God I will. As I get older the period between crashes gets longer and the signs of what’s coming up get easier to read. Older but not necessarily wiser.

What is there for someone in my situation when I go to church? 30 minutes of sung worship that will pop me out of how I feel and into something “better”? A sermon giving me another 3 things to add to the hundreds I have collected over the last few years in order to better be a follower of Jesus? A stream of people asking me how I am but not waiting long enough for me to tell them?

Why do “worship leaders” nearly always expect that a good outcome in worship is to have everyone happy, “up” and talking to those around them? Eric Wilson in his wonderful book, “Against Happiness” suggests that “the predominant form of American happiness breeds blandness.” That may explain why so much worship is so bland.

My brief working definition of worship is, “people responding to the Trinitarian community of God, heart, soul, mind, strength.” Is it acceptable to God that I respond to her in ways that reflect how I am at the time, or does God expect me to pretend to be feeling differently? Or should I be “acting in faith” so that I will soon be more positive? And is “up” better, more holy, more Christ-like, than “down”?

These are, in my opinion, critical questions that any worship curator should be asking. What does “good worship” look, feel, sound, like? What should we be aiming to have as a result of the worship we curate? How do we know if worship has been “good” or successful? I have some ideas but I’m not going to explore them at the moment.

I participated in what I would call “good worship” on Sunday night. It was good for me. The preaching wasn’t too long (the combined length of two lots of notices took longer) and it was a thoughtful opening up of the biblical texts. But the best part was the response time that followed. Four simple activity stations to wander around and engage with. And in doing so to engage with God, regardless of where you were on the mental health spectrum that night. No expectations of any particular style of response. No comparisons of various responses.

I met with God. I think my neighbour who was very “happy-clappy” also did. We did so, and were given the opportunity to do so, without any expectation that our responses or the results of our responses would in any way correlate. Fantastic. And I didn’t come away feeling any “better’ than when I arrived, but I was aware of having glimpsed something more of grace and love of God for me – as I was; in my current state. Maybe that will carry me through to the “other side” where I can again renew my commitment to living more reasonably… for a while.

Authentic worship. Empathetic worship curating. That’s good worship I reckon.

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