leadership — Clayfire Curator

I’m Too Spiritual for This Body

by Eric Herron | October 25, 2011

Sometimes, I am just too spiritual. Being spiritual comes easy to me. It’s rarely a struggle. I don’t really have to try. This spiritual approach to God and worship is one that I ought to be very proud of.

But, I am not.

I am not proud of my tendency toward being spiritual. The reason? Mainly because being spiritual is only half of my calling. The “spiritual” side of me—the personal bible reading, the silent prayer, the devotional meditation—all happens in my head. It “takes place” in the invisible world of the mind. Unfortunately (fortunately?) half of me is outside my mind. I have a body with head, shoulders, knees and toes. A body that I am told will one day be resurrected—it is that important! I can certainly choose to proudly proclaim my spirituality, but if I am still neglecting my physical body in my faith and worship practices, then my “spirituality” is really nothing to clap about.

Speaking of clapping, Rodney Clapp in his book Tortured Wonders talks of his own seminary experience and how it left him feeling like “a body in a bucket” with only his “huge, swollen head looming over its rim.” Clapp’s response to his own neglect of embodied spirituality was to

… reclaim and reappreciate treasures of the Christian tradition and practice that allow me to worship, to pray, not just with my mind, but with hands and feet and eyes and tongue. A church’s sanctuary is much more than a lecture hall. And Christian spirituality is much more than mental recall (though it certainly does include that). As the nineteenth-century Reformed theologian John Williamson Nevin commented, modern rationalism in relation to Christian worship, including the Eucharist, “is too spiritual.” It takes little account of the outward forms of prayer and of the worshipers’ entire bodies. (Tortured Wonders, 100-101)

In Clapp’s (and Nevin’s) sense, we shouldn’t be content with just being “spiritual.” In fact, we ought to seek to balance out our spiritual worship with physical devotion.

When it comes to worship, how can you and I be “less spiritual” (more physical)?

Convert the concept to action. Have you ever sung about doing something, without actually doing it? My (least) favorite example of this relates to the bridge of “I Can Sing of Your Love Forever.” It goes, “Oh, I feel like dancing/It’s foolishness I know/But, when the world has seen the light/They will dance with joy like we’re dancing now.” Whenever I’ve sung this song, a quick visual scan of the crowd reveals minimal joy and little to no dancing. (As a side note, the musical style is not much given to ecstatic dancing, either!) As worshipers, we should make our bodies agree with our minds. As leaders, we ought to only choose worship practices we are willing to engage holistically ourselves, while leading others to do the same.

Motion before emotion. Because we tend to value the spiritual over the physical, we wait for thoughts and emotions to dictate our actions. What needs to happen more often in worship is that our actions dictate our emotions. We ought to choose to kneel, instead of waiting until we feel like it. We should raise our hands instead of waiting for some invisible cloud of wonder to buoy them up in a fit of ecstasy. The way we’ve been created, our bodies have the power to influence our minds. Let’s allow our bodies to take the lead in the worship dance.

Motivate movement. As leaders, we are sometimes afraid to invite people to respond physically. You know, it’s one thing to ask people to “think about” something (a safe request because no one can see the invisible musings or snorings of the mind) but it’s another entirely to ask them to move their bodies in some particular way. But, it’s worth the risk. During intercession, invite everyone to extend their arms and hands toward the person receiving prayer. Ask people to kneel down during confession if the space allows for it. Get people up, out of their seats and moving about the room for more than just communion. If we choose to wait for people to initiate their own movement in worship, Jesus may return in time to see their response in person.

What are some other ways that you have practiced being “less spiritual” and more physical in your responses to God? How have you curated movement into worship for the sake of prompting others to respond with their bodies?

Image © iStockphoto

Categories: Formation

The Many Faces of Worship in South Africa (part two)

by Guest Blogger | July 21, 2011

This post was written by John van de Laar. It is the second part of a two-part post. Read part one here.

The Worship Leader/Curator
The gathered church in South Africa embraces two values – that may at times appear contradictory – when it comes to the leadership of the community and its worship. On the one hand those who are considered God’s appointed leaders – whether prophet, pastor, bishop or other clergy person – are highly respected and strongly influential. The role of the preacher, in particular, is a powerful one and may reach to include choice of hymns and ordering of the liturgy. On the other hand, the community has an important, and protected, contribution to worship as well. Leadership in many communities is shared with lay people, and all the tasks of worship – from preaching, to praying, to Scripture reading, to music – are shared.

In traditional, indigenous African churches, the leader seems to have more influence, while in mainline churches, the clergy have increasingly been encouraged to include and encourage lay folk to participate. In both cases, though, spontaneous prayer or singing that is initiated from the congregation is welcomed and even encouraged. In Pentecostal and independent churches in which the use of spiritual gifts is encouraged, spontaneity and community participation are common, while the planning and leadership of worship is largely done “from the front.” In “emerging-type” communities, like similar groups around the world, shared planning, creativity, facilitation and participation is the norm. Perhaps the one thing that all South African churches have in common is a desire for the community as a whole to “own” and participate in both the planning and the facilitation of worship. Perhaps nowhere is this more clear than in the case of music.

The Music of Worship
South Africa is not just a multi-lingual society. It is also a multi-musical one. Traditionally, though, worship has tended to be split along musical and linguistic lines. The tendency is for those who speak a particular language to worship together, and for those who prefer a particular musical style to worship together. Increasingly, and thankfully, these divisions are becoming harder to maintain. In post-apartheid South Africa, people are more and more finding themselves sharing worship with others from very different backgrounds, with the result that musical styles, liturgical forms and languages are being blended within single communities and even in single worship gatherings. This is difficult to plan for, and almost impossible for a single person to lead, and so teams are often used to ensure that diversity is effectively and respectfully dealt with in worship.

The leadership of music is, again, a place of great diversity in South African worship. In some communities instruments are not used at all (except, perhaps, for percussion and home made instruments, some of which may include bicycle bells, whistles and metal pipes). In others, organists or skilled bands of musicians choose, arrange and lead the music, not unlike churches in other parts of the world. To a large extent the determining factors in these musical decisions are tradition and economic resources.

There are some communities in which music is viewed with some ambivalence, particularly some of the more creative, theologically liberal and “emerging” communities. However, I think it is safe to say that in Africa, worship is almost always expressed primarily through music. It must also be mentioned that the music of worship has always found its way into other areas of South African life. The protest music of the struggle against apartheid was often drawn from communities of faith, and parts of our national anthem were born in the worship of the Church.

The Many Faces of Worship
What is revealed by an examination of worship in South Africa is that we live in a constant dialogue between the individual and the community. This applies to our relationships, our leadership, our music and the use of any other art forms, rituals or symbols that may find their way into worship. The big challenge we face is to honour the diversity of our people, and to give a voice to all who share in our worship communities. One thing we know, though – we will face this challenge and not shrink from it. And we will face it together.

Image © iStockphoto

John van de Laar is a Methodist minister and the founder of Sacredise worship consulting, resourcing and publishing ministry. He was born in South Africa and lives today in Cape Town. For over twenty years John has been teaching congregations, worship leaders, and clergy to enter worship as a transforming encounter with God that leads us into lives of justice, grace and compassion. John holds a Masters degree in Theology, is a songwriter, musician, and the author of The Hour That Changes Everything – How Worship Forms Us Into the People God Wants Us to Be. John has been married to Debbie for nearly twenty-five years and they have two sons. Follow him on Twitter @sacredise. Like him on Facebook.

Categories: Curation

Are Pastors Killing Artists?

by Mark Pierson | June 1, 2011

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

Categories: Curation

Making Room and Playing It Out: Step-by-stepping Closer Towards Widespread Community Inclusion (part 2)

by Guest Blogger | May 6, 2011

This post was written by Todd Fadel and is continuation from last week. Read part one here.

The notes you have taken represent an INVESTMENT of time and energy. If you skip the initial stuff, you’re inviting confusion. You have notes in front of you that give you a much better idea of who makes up your community, yes? If each of the assembled people were part of the “worship facilitation team,” how could their passions/uniqueness be spotlighted? With your leadership, find a role each could play. Imagine what connections they could help people make with our creative Creator. Make up simple imaginary titles for them. The list could end up looking like this:

Bobby – 12, who loves doing clay sculptures could be TACTILE ART COORDINATOR

Melissa – 47, who loves games and is hilarious could be HUMOR ENFORCEMENT TEAM LEADER

Agnes – 84, plays harp, tells amazing stories be HISTORICAL HARPIST

and so on. Don’t forget to include the ones who are never included. Did I say that before? Hmm..

The picture should start becoming clear that everyone is a part of worship and can play a part which connects to their GOD-GIVEN PASSION. The personality of your community should start becoming more apparent to you, also. If you don’t fall in love with your people all over again, I’ll be really surprised.

**The next step would be preparations for unveiling a different model to your assembled group.

What you and your co-facilitators/other leadership should do is consider enacting this new service for the assembled group, showing what their roles could be. Have you ever seen a storyboard artist pitch a cartoon? They’re doing all the character’s action in the scene and making the sound effects and going from scene to scene. So what you need to do is imagine a potential service, and write it out like it’s a storyboard for a cartoon. HERE’S THE ESSENCE OF THIS: If the facilitators/leadership do not model vulnerability in this way in this smaller setting, they can NOT expect the people to do it in a larger, scarier setting. Plus, when you catch what the people have the potential to do, you’re more motivated to make services a safe place for them to step out in their passion. Once you bring them together again, tell them what you want to show them, and DO IT.

Get feedback, write it all down. Ask questions like: What scares you about it? What do you think could be different?

This is where you tell them you will make a commitment to keep things safe for them.

How does one keep things safe for them? Here’s a few guidelines:

(You) shoulder any complaints/comments from the community-at-large and relay “positive suggestions” only (after 4 services have been tried, not a peep until after then). Make an announcement prior to each service stating this.

Don’t let your personal aesthetic get in the way of allowing people to express freely.

Do not criticize them under any circumstance.

Provide a de-briefing time after services to help process.

Anyone is allowed to quit (after 4 services are tried).

Then ask them if they will try it with you. Chances are, half of the group will do it. Don’t give off any impression to anyone that you feel like they’re “not helpful,” or “not taking one for the team” for not wanting to try. Tell them this is a trial run and strange stuff’ll happen, but you’ll help shoulder the burden of it.

**NOW, logistics. What do we do? Where do we put everything?

This part is COMPLETELY dependent on who is willing to do this with you, but I have a few suggestions:

You can totally write your own songs

In the room setup, something other than the music should be the focus.

Build a service around the MOMENTUM of a theme or concept. When using liturgy, let it flow with the other things. (ie. don’t let things interrupt other things)

Darkness, or diffused light, tends to help people feel less self-conscious. No need to get candle-happy, if not necessary. Flashlights or dim lamps work.

Visual art that is shown could be all done by the community (ie. film/paintings/photography) and could be shown on overheads or super 8 projectors (which you could get for free, through freecycle.org in your town).

Give plenty of space for those who would want to move around while allowing for those who are less mobile or expressive.

Don’t let the service be governed by a false sense of obligatory seriousness. God invented humor, for pete’s sake.

See #7.

Todd has spent the last 25 years as a musician, improviser, collaborator and instigator in one form or another. Based in Portland, OR, he and his family helped birth pioneering US alt-worship community, The Bridge, in 1998.

There, he currently co-ordinates jalopy-gospel, arts/music collective AGENTS OF FUTURE, and has co-created over 50 punk-choir anthems, experimental films, collaborative workshops, multimedia improv games and various other hoopla with them for over a decade. His creative endeavors have landed him gigs playing piano for a grade-school choir, singing the national anthem at a local roller derby and leading communion for 15,000 Greenbelt festivalgoers in the UK.

His thoughts on play, visions for inclusive community and collaborative papercraft-ephemera have been showcased by publications like Sojourners and Worship Leader Magazine and resourced by Sparkhouse, Wild Goose Festival, Festival of Faith and Music and Crowder’s Fantastical Church Music Conference.

Categories: Leadership

SPACE: A Journey from Darkness to Light (part 1)

by Guest Blogger | April 8, 2011

This post was written by Stephen Proctor.

This past year, Jesus has stretched my understanding of “visual worship” more than I would have ever imagined. You see, I’m a “VJ” by trade… so projectors, loops, presentation software, and all-things-digital are the name of the game.

Then last July, I spent two solid weeks in New Zealand with my friend and mentor, Mark Pierson. As you can imagine, I was opened up to the world of “worship curation” like never before. What I realized on this journey is that all I had known as a VJ and visual worship leader applied to so many different contexts of worship. This conversation even transcended musical styles and cultures!

As I read The Art of Curating Worship, it felt as if Mark had been reading my mind for years. He was able to wrap words around the dreams so many I knew were having, including myself. It was like discovering a heart-language for worship that I knew in my heart existed but had never heard before. And the idea that curating worship is all about taking the spotlight off of the talented few on stage and placed back on the whole congregation… well, that just rocked my world!

The closest thing I had experienced to what Mark described in his book was the annual “Good Friday Experience” that my church back home held each year. Blessed with a vibey old warehouse layered with concrete floors and wooden beams, my church created a space for prayer and reflection, filled with multiple stations and visual ways to engage in the story of the Cross. It was always my favorite worship experience of the year (including all the “cool” conferences I worked at). Little did I know that we had been practicing the art of curation and “transitional” worship all along.

After New Zealand, I felt a renewed calling to serve my local church (Journey) in a new capacity. I had been involved, just from a distance. Since I travel a lot and lead visual worship for a living, Sundays had become a bit of a refuge… a place to “turn off” and worship without knowing everything behind the scenes.

Well, I’ll spare you the details, but our church went through a very tough season where we had to send our worship pastor away and rethink our approach to designing corporate worship. It was a hard and messy experience filled with questions, some of which are still unanswered today. But like so many times, beauty arose from the ashes. My pastor Jamie George asked me to serve on a new team that would explore what creative worship could look like for Journey. The group was named “Cartography,” since we viewed ourselves as map-designers, exploring an unknown and forgotten world of worship, guiding our church to inhabit a new land. Our vision is “to nurture a soul environment in the Gathering by interpreting God’s whispers through art and story.”

As a team, we read through Mark’s book. The Cartographers, especially our worship designers, were deeply affected by it. It was as if this book was written specifically for Journey. Not only did it describe how we think about worship, but it challenged us in new ways and served as a compass as we explored different avenues of expression.

One of my dreams was to curate a transitional worship space, much like the one Mark and I curated in Auckland. And to revisit our “Good Friday Experience” on a more consistent basis. We were also in a study of prayer that month, so it was timely to have an added layer of intentional times of prayer and calibration for our community. With much trust and selfless leadership from Jamie, we were set free to experiment.

So that autumn, we started an event called “SPACE,” curated weekly on Tuesdays from noon to 1 p.m. We created multiple prayer stations that represented the various ministries in our church. We also had a communion station, areas with pillows for kneeling, chairs scattered throughout, and candles dripping everywhere. Ambient music played over the sound system and imagery was VJ’d on the screens. We even used “atonement vessel” that an artist in our congregation created for Good Friday a few years ago. This was a concrete basin mangled with rusty nails and barbed wire. People could write their sins on a red piece of paper and place it in the water and watch the red ink dissolve and float to the bottom… it was really cool, but it’s been leaking terribly lately. So it’s retired now.

It was a step in the right direction, but there were a few challenges to overcome. First off, our church venue is located in the suburban city of Franklin, which is 30 minutes south of Nashville (where many in our church live). Many could not make the drive for only an hour. Which brings me to our next problem: it was only an hour long. So unless 12-1 p.m. was your lunch break, you weren’t able to attend this unique experience. It unintentionally excluded a vast majority of our community, so we started rethinking our approach to make it more accessible and inclusive.

I went to Jamie and the Cartographers and proposed a new version of “SPACE”… a monthly, day-long experience that went into the night, ending with a time of sung worship. After a little dialogue, everyone agreed. So this year, we’ve hoisted our sails and continued our voyage. And thankfully, God has started raising up more worship curators in our congregation!

Next week, I’ll continue this story with “part 2″ by giving you a detailed description of our most recent “SPACE” event.

Stephen Proctor is a VJ, media producer, and curator of visual worship who has participated in events and worship experiences around the world. He’s based in Nashville and serves on the creative team at his local church, Journey. Stephen shares resources, stories and his passion for visually creative worship on his blog, worshipVJ.com, as well as in his new eBook, A Guidebook for Visual Worship.

Categories: Curation