Continuing thoughts on artistic expression within the church…

Every culture has a form, style, or place of prominence that its members aspire to. They are the standards by which everything is measured.  And much of what we do, whether intentional or not, is informed by these external forces.

And the church is no different.

In most churches on a Sunday morning, the place of prominence is the pulpit.  Most of the time is centered on pulpit activity; either Bible reading, teaching, praying, singing.  Church culture informs us that the pulpit is the penultimate place of public focus.  And that to occupy that space, you should mirror it in approach and style. This attention has the unfortunate consequence of suggesting that the “highest” form of expression within the church takes on specifically liturgical or “pulpit-y” tone.

I believe this is why so much of the artistic expression (yes, even blogs…) tends toward being overly preachy or sermonic.  

However, if art can be freed from the context of a Sunday morning service, and can truly be a reflection of the life lived by the artist, it will find its own expression and its own form.  

Instead of pawing after a place of acceptance and public adulation at the cost of originality and honesty, we can begin to release the story of our walk with God in a personal way that can deeply impact others.

What does your art aspire to?  Why?

Talking with a filmmaker friend recently about artistic expression within the church…

It seems that finding genuinely creative thoughts, concepts, stories, and images is difficult within the church world.  Every movie is either about what Jesus did or will do.  Cross and Rapture.  That’s it.  

I think the struggle stems from the feeling that we have to present answers to the world.  

As ministers, I think we must strive to be clear and understood.  But is that the same goal for art?

I believe art is less about providing answers than it is about asking the right questions.  

Art is subjective.  It’s about creating an emotional response within the audience.  Art doesn’t lend itself to “holding the audience by the hand” explanations.  

If I have to spell out the meaning for you, I am condescending to you and robbing you of the discovery of meaning within your own life.  I am providing you with the meaning I want you to have and not the internal, resonant impression that you create within yourself.

But trusting you to understand means willingly creating blanks or gaps.  I intentionally create holes that I refuse to fill.  Holes that you must fill with your own experience or thought or spirituality.  

It’s in the gaps that God dwells.  What if, instead of me telling you, I created a place of awkwardness and pondering?  What if, instead of answering questions you are not asking, I mirror the deep questions of your heart?  

What if I could be confident in awkwardness?  Confident enough in the love of God to meet you in a place of uncertainty.