August 2, 2007
The Ever-Changing Message
How visual technology always impacts what we preach.
Our friends at FaithVisuals.com recently spoke with Shane Hipps, author of The Hidden Power of Electronic Culture. We posted part one of the discussion last month where Hipps uncovered the ways electronic media affect our messages, and how it can be misused. In part two, he talks about what kinds of messages are well-served by electronic media. You can read more from Shane Hipps about the challenges of ministry in a visual culture in the summer issue of Leadership available now.
Speaking from a specifically church-based context, what kinds of messages are well-served by video or other visual media?
Any messages that demand sustained concentration and intellectual participation or engagement are not well-suited to a video medium. For example, the kind of abstract theological reasoning found in the letters of Paul is extraordinarily difficult to express and depict in visual imagery, since video and images offer impressions and evoke emotions. So, if the content that you want to communicate demands any kind of complex reasoning, images and video will actually work against your best efforts. This is one of the reasons that in the Middle Ages, when literacy rates plummeted and the dominant means of communication was stained glass windows, Paul's letters disappeared in the church. And it wasn't until after the print revolution that Luther "re-discovered" the epistles and basically elevated them above the stories of Jesus.
The question that we have to ask as leaders in the church as we consider using video and visual media is this: Are we inadvertently facilitating the disappearance of Paul again?
On an average Sunday, what are some practical ways that you think the church can use visual media without threatening the integrity of our message?
This question is an interesting one, because embedded in the question is the assumption that there is an "integrity of a message"—I don't think there is such a thing as a pure, unadulterated message.
All messages are delivered through a medium and are, therefore, invariably shaped by our choice of media. It's often said in the evangelical world that the methods can change as long as the message stays the same, and the reality is that when you change the methods you necessarily change the message.
This may sound like I'm saying "make sure you don't change the methods, so that we can keep our same message." But I don't believe there ever was an unchanging message. And I don't think this comes as a surprise to God; he has used so many different media for his messages—a burning bush, a donkey, stone tablets, and ultimately the person of Jesus Christ, which is probably the only place that the medium and the message are perfectly united. But God understood that each of these media conveyed a different message, regardless of the content:
A burning bush, no matter what the message, may convey mystery and otherness.
A donkey is something comical, and it's probably humiliating.
Stone tablets convey permanence.
And, of course, the incarnation.
This last one is probably the most powerful aspect of this whole "medium is the message" question. Now we're not just talking about bits and bytes and screens or no screens; we're talking about humans. We're saying "I am personally a medium, and I am my message." So, I can give a sermon on Sunday morning and say you should be giving your money away, but if I'm not giving my money away, that message will come through. Or if you look at someone like Ted Haggard, the kind of sexual immorality that he experienced as a medium radically compromised his message. So that's probably the first thing we should get away from: we shouldn't assume there is some kind of pure, unadulterated message. And the more we understand that, the better prepared we are for choosing our media to think, What am I really going to be conveying when I get up there to talk? And then how will that be shaped once I channel it through a particular medium?
What do you think are some of the benefits and detriments of using visual media in the context of the church or a church service?
Again, it always depends on how it's being used. The benefit of using visual media and multimedia is that, in some ways, it is an incarnational approach. And by that, I simply mean if you look at the model of Jesus, God coming to be with us, he spoke the language and understood the forms that the ancient world used to communicate and operated within those. So there's a sense of that incarnational aspect; if part of the language of the culture we live in is simply visual multimedia, then it's wise for us to find meaningful and reflective ways of using these forms.
Now, of course, there's a flipside, which can be detrimental. The detriment comes in when we fail to understand that our media choices are not simply reflecting culture; they are generating culture. Media are often generative in ways that are unintended. A big part of the reason I wrote my book was to try and help people perceive better the way that media shape us. The detriment of using video and multimedia is that it can begin to draw upon the manipulative power of visual multimedia—the emotional, the visceral. And the bottom line is anyone who's using that media is placed in a very precarious position when they're dealing with the people of God in the world. We are at an incredibly high risk of inadvertently hijacking the imagination of our people and manipulating them against their will. And it is the ultimate sign of disrespect to do that. So there's a sense in which in order to honor God at work among our people we have to be very, very careful about how we use these media because they're extraordinarily powerful.
Again, I'm not suggesting that we don't use them. I'm simply saying "Beware of the fact that you hold a nuclear weapon in your hand!" And you need to understand what the impact can be over the long term.
Shane Hipps is pastor of Trinity Mennonite Church—a missional, urban, Anabaptist congregation in Phoenix, Ariz. Before accepting a call as a pastor, he was a strategic planner in advertising, where he worked on the multimillion dollar communications plan for Porsche. It was here that he gained expertise in understanding media and culture. Shane speaks nationally, is a contributor to Leadership Journal, host of the "Third-Way Faith" podcast on wiredparish.com, and author of The Hidden Power of Electronic Culture: How Media Shapes Faith, the Gospel, and Church.
Posted by UrL at August 2, 2007 | Comments (2)
July 10, 2007
Is Video Technology in Church Manipulative?
The unintended consequences of using visual media in ministry.
As you read this post the summer issue of Leadership is arriving in mailboxes. The issue tackles the impact of living, and ministering, in an increasingly visual culture. Many churches are eager to employ video and other new digital tools, but is this tread helpful, harmful, or completely neutral to our mission? To preview the theme of the summer issue here is an interview with Shane Hipps on the hidden power of visual media from our partners at Faith Visuals.
How can we be better about perceiving the power of media in both our churches and our lives?
Probably the best orientation that I've discovered to help me understand the real power of media was when I read a quote by Marshall McLuhan where he says, "The content of any medium is the juicy piece of meat carried by the burglar to distract the watchdog of the mind." What he's saying is that the medium itself has a power, a bias, and a meaning regardless of what message you put through it. He's challenging the metaphor that we often assume: Media are simply pipelines, a neutral conduit through which information can be put through. I think it's crucial for Christians to begin to perceive the media forms themselves, rather than just looking at—and understanding—the content. We're too easily distracted by the content, and we miss the power of the medium.
You mentioned Marshall McLuhan. In your book, The Hidden Power of Electronic Culture, you talk about McLuhan's four laws of media a lot. Could you explain those a little bit, and how they are useful for thinking about the media we use?
Sure. The only difficulty with the four laws is that it feels a little unnatural at times. It can be hard to answer some of those questions. The point is not to get the right answers; the point is to ask the right questions. McLuhan offered four questions he believed were crucial to understanding media.
First: What does the medium enhance and extend? For instance: The wheel is an extension of the foot.
Second: What does the medium obsolesce? And "obsolesce" doesn't mean get rid of. It means change the function of. So, for example, the automobile extends our speed of transportation, but it obsolesces the horse-drawn carriage. The horse-drawn carriage doesn't disappear; it simply changes its function. It's now used for romance and entertainment, but it is still used.
Third: What does the medium retrieve from the past? This is the conviction that nothing is new under the sun. And so every new medium retrieves some older medium. For example, security cameras retrieve the medieval city wall which simultaneously protects and imprisons its citizens.
Fourth: What does the medium reverse into? This means that every medium will always reverse into some form of its opposite when it is overused. So for example, when the automobile, which is designed to increase speed, is overextended or overused, it actually reverses into traffic jams and even fatalities.
There is no single answer to these questions; they can be asked of any medium almost endlessly to deepen our understanding. So that's one way of understanding the complexity of how media shape us.
So what do you think are some changes that would happen if people started to look at how we present our message? Like if we use McLuhan's four laws to think more about how we're presenting a message.
I think people will begin to use our media rather than be used by them unconsciously. The power of our media become less powerful when we actually understand and become aware of them. Right now, most people are distracted by the content of our media, while we miss the power of the form. Thus we encounter our media with the proverbial slip on the banana peel. We end up being used by the media we think we're using. My hope isn't that people will stop using technology in a church but rather, that they'll begin to understand so they can make more discerning decisions about how to use media.
If we ask ourselves these questions, how can video and visual multimedia do their best work? What kinds of messages do you think are best communicated by video or multimedia?
The messages that are best conveyed by video or multimedia are almost exclusively emotional and entertaining. The bias of these media is that they exercise the right hemisphere of the brain, which evokes emotions, impressions, and intuitions. Regardless of what you're conveying, these are the things that your brain uses to engage, perceive and understand the content of images. At the same time, when overextended, images erode our capacity for logic, abstract thinking, and complex discernment. Perhaps the most unintended consequence is that images too often become a form of manipulation.
Can you explain that a bit further? What do you mean by "unintended consequence?"
Well, visual multimedia are probably the favorite medium of the greatest manipulators in world history: advertisers. And I know because I was one! One of the things we discovered was that the absolute best way to move people against their better judgment was through emotion, not reason. Everything we did was to try and give emotional experiences, evoke emotional impressions, and basically ignore the nuts and bolts of the superiority of our product. Nobody cared about the superiority of our product; they cared about the kind of emotional empowerment they would experience. And so, regardless of whether they had the money to buy what we wanted them to buy, we could find ways to manipulate their emotions against their better judgment, because emotions are not things you argue with. They're simply an experience that you have. Whereas if you try and go through reason, people will argue with it.
So that's the thing I'd be concerned about in terms of how we use video and multimedia in church. We need to understand that we're dealing with an incredibly powerful medium that all too easily leans towards manipulation—a subtle form of coercion. It's not at all something that people who work and create this medium are necessarily doing on purpose. I know that. It's just a matter of helping us become aware of how immensely powerful images are.
Can you give me an example of that kind of manipulative use of visual media?
Let me give you an example from when I worked in advertising. On one campaign, our goal was to sell Porsches. And we didn't do it by convincing you that our car was better than a BMW because it had higher RPM or it could do 0 to 60 faster, but because it promised you freedom, sex, and power. And so we showed you a gorgeous woman with the car. So emotionally viewers experienced an unconscious message—buy the car and get the girl.
Another print ad we did was a shot of the Porsche Turbo running in the Salt Flats of Utah and the headline over the photograph read "Pins the logical side of your brain to the back of your skull." It's an ad that basically says, This is not a rational decision so don't over-think it; go out and buy this $120,000 car right now, but also exposes a greater truth about our methods as advertisers. Everything we did was an effort to pin the logical side of the brain to the back of skulls, so that we could simply manipulate this soft and highly malleable emotional response and experience.
How do you help filmmakers know how they can best avoid the unintentional consequence of manipulating? Especially because we obviously want people to be moved through videos, but not in the sense that we want to manipulate them into anything?
It's really hard to say to a filmmaker or an artist "Here's how you should create your art so that you're not manipulating." Part of it is the context. It's the context in which it's shown—who the audience is.
But the questions I would ask of a filmmaker or someone who is involved in creating a show video piece are:
What is your intended goal or outcome? In some ways, if your goal is too clear or concrete as an artist, you may be at risk of inadvertently using your film manipulatively.
What is the means by which you're trying to achieve that goal? Does what I depict exploit the senses or emotions, or does it awaken them? This is very fine line, so ask it prayerfully and honestly.
Only after I heard answers to these questions could I give some more meaningful direction. It's hard for me to say specifically for filmmakers what they should or shouldn't do, other than ask the hard questions and answer them as honestly as you can.
Shane Hipps is pastor of Trinity Mennonite Church—a missional, urban, Anabaptist congregation in Phoenix, Ariz. Before accepting a call as a pastor, he was a strategic planner in advertising, where he worked on the multimillion dollar communications plan for Porsche. It was here that he gained expertise in understanding media and culture. Shane speaks nationally, is a contributor to Leadership Journal, host of the "Third-Way Faith" podcast on wiredparish.com, and author of The Hidden Power of Electronic Culture: How Media Shapes Faith, the Gospel, and Church.
Posted by UrL at July 10, 2007 | Comments (14)
February 13, 2007
Worship that Reorders Reality
The National Pastors Convention in San Diego is over and I’ve returned to the frozen north. But I still have one last reflection from the conference. Mark Labberton, pastor of First Presbyterian Church of Berkeley, California, spoke on Thursday night about the intersection of worship and justice.
Drawing mainly from the Old Testament prophets Daniel and Isaiah, Labberton built a case for thinking differently about worship. “Worship reorders reality to help us see what is true,” he said. It should reorder our priorities and help us see the world differently. But quite often worship is simply a baptized version of our culture. In our worship we simply mirror what is all around us—worship of self. This, he says, is “illegitimate worship.”
“Fear of God is what matters most,” says Labberton. “The failure of our people to live this way is a failure of our worship.” The solution is not making our worship louder, faster, or more spectacular as many are in the habit of doing. Rather, we need to reevaluate what our worship is forming within our people. “Does our worship impact our view of our neighbor?”
In many churches we engage in “worship wars.” But these battles are usually over issues of style, song choice, and aesthetics. Drawing heavily from Isaiah chapters 1 and 58, Labberton argues that what matters most in worship is how the act impacts our love for our neighbors. “It is possible to worship God and lose our neighbor,” he said. But in Isaiah we see the Lord rejecting his people’s worship because they did not act justly toward the oppressed, orphans, and widows. Their worship was vertical, and was never horizontal.
Labberton’s points were clear and well stated, and his admonition was as simple as Jesus’: Love the Lord and love your neighbor. Having just wrapped up a series at my church on our biblical responsibility toward the poor, I was thankful for Labberton’s thoughtful message on the interplay of worship and social justice. But my big takeaway from his talk came as I was leaving the hotel’s ballroom.
Like most ministry conferences, at NPC the lobby outside the main ballroom was converted into a bookstore selling resources. I had difficulty leaving the huge lobby because a line stretched literally out the door. Pastors were waiting to purchase their copy of Labberton’s new book (The Dangerous Act of Worship—Living God’s Call to Justice) the way school kids line up to buy the latest Harry Potter tome. Although the lobby bookstore was crowded after every session, following Labberton's talk the line was particularly long.
Now, don’t misunderstand me. I thought Labberton’s message was right on target, and I’m sure his book is equally meaningful. But the overwhelming response I saw in the hotel lobby made me realize that a theology of social justice may be more foreign to we evangelicals than I had realized. Have we so fully bought into the notion that worship is primarily entertainment that when someone gives a biblical perspective we are surprised, rush to the bookstore, and get in line to discover more?
I’m grateful that more people are engaging these issues, I’m grateful for voices like Labberton, and I'm glad so many were eager to buy his book and learn more about the subject. His integration of justice with worship resurrects a very old, but neglected, biblical teaching. What I saw at NPC may reveal just how neglected it has been.
Posted by Skye Jethani at February 13, 2007 | Comments (14)
December 18, 2006
The Greatest Show on Earth
Sunday morning should be the most entertaining time of the week.
Last December, David Fitch challenged the popular trend known as “Experiential Worship.” Fitch said, “…we can no longer be naive that a ‘religious experience,’ like the one sought in a rock concert worship service, provides immediate access to God.” And Shane Hipps has asked us to think more critically about using technology in worship. This week, we welcome a new contributor to Out of Ur. Perry Noble is the Senior Pastor of NewSpring Church in Anderson, South Carolina. He not only endorses the use of technology to create experiential worship services, Noble believes Sunday morning should be the most entertaining experience people have all week.
From time to time we will have a church leader call NewSpring wanting to know what in the world we are doing to reach so many people. I have had this conversation with many people, and I have seen many walk away either discouraged or disappointed because I did not give them a magic formula. The bottom line is that if a church wants to impact a community it takes work.
For far too long the church has been lazy…that’s right…LAZY. We have sat back on our butt and done nothing, asking God to “do it all” while claiming to be “led by the Spirit.” And then people walk into our boring, lifeless, and predictable services and we give “God all the glory,” or all the blame!
One of the things I have realized from reading Scripture is that Jesus was far from boring. He created experiences for His followers—experiences that they never forgot, and the church should be doing the same.
Today I sat in a room for two hours as our creative team talked about the next several Sundays. We spent 10-15 minutes just discussing how to conclude the sermon for one service this month. We are serious about Sundays and the experience that is created for people coming in our doors.
I have heard pastors say that our process leaves no room for the Holy Spirit and that we are not open. Quite frankly if someone ever says that to my face I will have to be restrained from punching him in the throat! I am sick and tired of pastors and church leaders blaming their laziness and lack of preparation on the Holy Spirit! One of the things we have discovered at NewSpring is that the Holy Spirit is always at work—even during sessions where ideas are brainstormed and well thought out.
If someone attends NewSpring, we give them this promise—we take church seriously. Everything you see is done with a purpose. We are serious about Jesus and serious about as many people as possible meeting Him. Therefore, we are willing to do all that we can to reach people!
It is our desire not to merely have a church service, but to create an experience through song, video, messages, and any other tools the Holy Spirit might place in front of us. Sure, we’ve been accused of entertaining people, but I would much rather entertain people than bore them. Jesus didn’t mind creating experiences, and His church shouldn’t either.
We are serious about making Jesus’ name famous, and that just can’t happen when church is boring. I believe a boring church is a sin! So, we are going to always do all we can to make sure that when a person attends our church on Sunday that it is one of the best hours of their week. I believe people should look forward more to church than 24, Lost, or American Idol.
Those successful television shows put hard work and effort into their programming and it shows! Maybe if the church was as serious as Hollywood we would be reaching people. Hollywood has discovered something that the church runs away from—it takes work to create an experience that people will remember.
I have told people not to miss one single Sunday in December because our team has put together some stuff that we know God is going to use to impact thousands of lives. We care about Jesus, we care about His church, and we will always do our best to make sure people’s hour on Sunday is not wasted but meaningful. Now I am off to catch my flight. Our video crew is on the way to a place where we will be working to create an experience for our Christmas services.
Posted by UrL at December 18, 2006 | Comments (84)
October 27, 2006
The Oddness of Pews
Where worshippers place their posteriors also shapes their interiors
Some things in life are certain—death, taxes, and cramped seats in economy class. But Cathay Pacific, one of Asia’s leading airlines, has announced a breakthrough. They’ve designed an economy class seat that reclines without intruding on the person seated behind. For centuries church meant fixed seating in uncomfortable wood pews, but breakthroughs have been occurring in church seating as well. We now have theater seats with cup holders. But should comfort be the driving motivation? In this post, Dan Kimball from Vintage Faith Church explores the odd nature of pews, their history, and how church seats reflect our theology.
We were in the middle of moving our church offices and worship gathering location from a very new contemporary building built about 6 years ago to a very beautiful brick church built in 1938. In preparation for moving we had been redecorating and remodeling of the children's rooms, the offices, and turning the fellowship hall into a coffeehouse/art gallery. However, one thing was tormenting me—the pews in the sanctuary. I have never been part of a church that has pews, so these things were very confusing to me.
As I sat in the pews I realized how odd they are. These things are so small. You have to squeeze to get into them. They are very uncomfortable and creaky. Wooden seats with a little red cushion. Once other people sit next to you, you are stuck. Kind of like being in the window seat of an airplane and needing to step over two other people to get out.
However, sitting comfortably isn't the issue to me. Most of the time I sit on the floor at Vintage Faith Church. I also know we are fortunate to have a roof over our heads, and many Christians in other countries don't have buildings at all or are persecuted for their faith. So, the "comfortable" factor is actually the least of my concerns. I think my dilemma with the pews is what they communicate and what they teach theologically.
I decided to do some research on where these strange things called "pews" came from. The church did not use pews for over 1,000 years. The original vintage church met in homes, so the feeling was family—a community looking at one another and interacting with one another. The first formal church building was built in the post-300 AD time period and modeled after the Roman Basilica, and in these buildings people stood the whole time. There were no seats at all. So standing allowed interacting and the freedom to walk around. In the 13th Century there were backless benches made of stone placed against walls. They were placed in a semi-circle around the meeting room and then eventually fixed to the floor.
In the 14th century pews as we know them were introduced but did not become popular until the 15th century. Remember, in this time period the Reformation was happening and the pulpit was introduced as the focal point of church architecture. So the pews became the place where people took their seat to focus on the pulpit and the sermon. They didn't have Bibles of their own, they didn't read for the most part, so they made rows of seats to sit and listen to someone talk.
How we sit when we gather reflects what we believe is important in worship. The early church met in homes, it was communal, looking at each other in small rooms, discussing and teaching Scripture, praying for one another and eating a meal together. You could walk around, have dialog. Then the church moved into buildings where the Table (the Lord's Supper) was the focal point and we stood, moved around the room, interacted. Then we moved into buildings where the pews caused people to sit in stationary positions, not looking at each other, but looking at the pulpit and all facing the same direction. This drastically changes the culture and climate of how we view the church and worship. It becomes more of a sit/watch/listen meeting, rather than an interactive community gathering.
It seems like an odd thing to invite someone into our church "family", bring them into a room and make them sit for over an hour on benches looking at the back of heads staring at the front of the room. I don't think our own families would have a meeting this way. I am trying to imagine Jesus and His disciples having the last supper meal while sitting in rows of pews.
For our church pews represent almost the exact opposite of how we worship. We give people the opportunity to walk around, to go to prayer stations, to lie down or sit on the floor if that is how they desire to express worship or pray. We try to be "respectfully relaxed" when we meet. We go to extra effort to set up a mix of round tables and chairs to create a vibe of community, rather than rows of people looking at backs of heads like in a bus or airplane or movie theater. So our move to a pew-filled room for worship was not very "vintage faith".
Our plan is to move the pews out of the sanctuary little by little, leaving just a few of them. I look forward to the removal. They are very, very odd things.
Posted by UrL at October 27, 2006 | Comments (47) | TrackBack
April 6, 2006
Disposable Worship: a caution about using too much technology in worship
Last month I attended a “worship experience” that included smoke machines, lasers, digital graphic projections, and more flat panel screens than I could count. Technology is changing the way we worship, but what are we losing as a result? David Fitch, pastor of Life on the Vine Christian Community in Long Grove, Illinois, and author of The Great Giveaway (Baker, 2006), encourages us to use greater discernment when employing technology in worship.
I read a nice story recently about football player Jerome Bettis (aka “the Bus”) returning home to Detroit for the Super Bowl. They described his whole journey and how he bought a house for his parents on a golf course in suburban Detroit. But he didn’t stop there. Johnie Bettis, the running back’s mother, recalls: “When Jerome found out we were going to the laundromat, he said that wasn’t acceptable and told us to go get a new washer and dryer. But I kind of liked the laundromat because you get to meet so many interesting people.”
Mrs. Bettis’ comments reminded me how technology can change the inherent “good” of the basic practices of our lives. Technology, in this case a washer and dryer, means no longer needing to go to the laundromat. As a result, we lose the “good” of meeting and engaging interesting people in our lives. We must therefore discern whether more technology (buying a washer and a dryer, a cell phone, or Tivo) is a good idea by considering more than just the capitalist reasons: “it's more efficient,” “it saves time,” or “it just looks and feels so good.”
The same of course is true of worship. Not every technologically enhanced “improvement” necessarily improves our worship. The flashing of the Lord’s Prayer on the screen with a powerful graphic may disable us from bowing as a community and saying it from our soul’s memory—in submission together as a Body of Christ.
The brilliant Albert Borgmann in his book Power Failure, narrates for us how technology can change something that was once a “commanding reality” with deep personal and corporate value, and turn it into a “disposable reality” devoid of meaning and power. For example, the music symphony that took so much time, effort, tuning up of instruments, the staging of a concert hall . . . is now reduced to a handy CD that we can play at our convenience and command. He believes this shift to a disposable reality changes us and how we view our world.
Borgmann says technology can make certain wonderful “goods” in our lives disappear without us even knowing it. Example: the central fireplace is replaced by the invisible central air furnace. In the process the family that once gathered around the fireplace to get warm before heading off to bed no longer engages in the community-building routine. The family no longer talks about the day, tells stories, or prays together. Through technology we lose what Borgman calls a “focal practice.” We lose a concrete, formative, and simple activity, and our lives are changed without ever noticing.
The question is obvious. Have we lost worship as a focal practice? By turning it into an “experience” saturated with convenient technology, have we made worship a disposable reality when in it is supposed to be a commanding reality?
Last night at a worship meeting we talked at length about the use of technology and graphic arts in our worship service this past Sunday. We want to retain the concrete nature and the formative practice of art in our church, but any art that shocks or produces a disposable experience we try to avoid. Art is really important in our church, but we must not produce disposable experiences. We must retain the focal practice of worship.
Focal practices and commanding realities are things we lose when we purchase a washer and dryer. These are things we lose when we turn worship into a theater show for the masses. And so we must be careful with the application of technology in worship. I am not saying don't use it! I am saying let us be discerning. I believe we need the candles, the wonder, and the mystery of the concrete embodiment of Christ’s work at the Lord’s Table. We need to kneel (if our knees will hold out) before God with all our brokenness. And we need to use the marvelous technologies of our day in worship in ways that resist making God, community, and worship disposable.
David Fitch is pastor of Life on the Vine Christian Community in Long Grove, Illinois, a professor of ministry, theology, and ethics at Northern Seminary, and author of The Great Giveaway: Reclaiming the Mission of the Church from Big Business, Parachurch Organizations, Psychotherapy, Consumer Capitalism, and Other Modern Maladies (Baker 2006).
Posted by UrL at April 6, 2006 | Comments (28) | TrackBack
March 21, 2006
March Madness: What a fan and a foreigner learned from a basketball liturgy
In February last year, my best friend flew down from the Midwest for a delightful, week-long visit. While she was here in the Carolinas, I introduced her to one of my most favorite experiences in the world: a Division I college basketball game. The home team shall remain nameless, except to say that its arena now features a 2005 NCAA Championship banner.
Anyway, I was thrilled to have my friend join me and share my passion for an evening. It was her first major college game, so I made sure I explained as much as I could beforehand about what she could expect from the experience.
I could tell she was a bit overwhelmed when we entered the buzzing arena, but we soon found our seats and settled in for the event. As the horn sounded after warm-ups, the house lights were dimmed to focus attention on the court, and the players readied themselves for the opening tip-off.
For the next two hours, I stood up, sat down, shouted, sang, jumped, raised my hands, swayed, and clapped with 22,000 other devoted fans. I grinned as I participated in rituals and chants that had become so familiar to me over the years. And after the victory, I joined the band, the team, and the rest of the crowd in a devoted rendition of our alma mater, which ends with everyone lustily condemning our bitter rivals (appropriately named the Devils) to eternal punishment.
I was so energized, I barely noticed the chilly night air as we hurried to catch the park-and-ride shuttle. While we stood waiting outside of the arena, I turned and asked my friend, "Well, what'd you think?!"
"I wonder if that's how people who don't go to church feel the first time they visit somewhere," she replied.
My friend, who is also a pastor's wife, went on to explain: she had a great time; she likes basketball, and it was fun to watch the game. She enjoyed experiencing the emotion and enthusiasm of the crowd. Still, she felt like an outsider because she didn't know our "liturgy."
At first, I felt disappointed. I was so excited for her to experience the same thrill that I feel when I enter the building, greet friends on my way to my regular seat, and cheer the celebrities on the court during what is essentially a large-scale worship experience. But my friend's observation begs important questions we probably don't ask ourselves enough as ministry leaders:
-How do "outsiders" view our church if they're not familiar with the tradition, routine, and ritual?
-How do we treat newcomers? Do we look at them as "foreigners" or even "opponents" if they don't dress the right way or know the songs, the cheers, the physical expressions, and the lingo?
-What does a visitor experience at church? It may be an excellent event in every respect, but the experience is still foreign to most people outside the church's walls.
-How do other people view us, the dyed-in-the-wool fans? To me, my cheers are an expression of my passionate devotion. But to the uninitiated, my loyalty can be viewed as fanaticism; to those who root for other teams, it can be construed as outright snobbery. Even when I know my team is better, is that the way I want people to think of me?
My friend's response to the game reminded me that at one time I, too, found my experience of basketball to be foreign. While I had a longstanding relationship with the game, I married into this particular expression of the religion. (And believe me, where I live, basketball is a religion, and it is a powerful influence in a marriage.) The colors were different; the cheers were new to me; the rituals rooted in the familiar, but on the surface strange. However, it didn't take long for me to adopt my new team to cheer as fervently as those who were born into this "faith."
Given time and a generous welcome, newcomers to the true faith, and our expression of it in our local congregation, will take the resident fans and the new locale to heart as fervently as those who have been there all along.
Interestingly, by the end of her visit, my friend had become a true-blue basketball fan. It didn't take her long to dress the part and talk the talk. Still, her experience—from our invocation (The Star-Spangled Banner) to the closing hymn (the school's alma mater)—served as an effective reminder to me: In the sanctuary as in the arena, everyone needs an intentional introduction to the liturgy.
Angie Ward is a ministry leader, pastor's spouse, associate director of the Innovative Church Community, and fan in basketball-crazy Durham, North Carolina.
Posted by UrL at March 21, 2006 | Comments (3) | TrackBack
December 16, 2005
Beyond Sermons and Songs 2: Further Thoughts on Worship and Liturgy
Pastor, author, and professor David Fitch has responded to the discussion he began about the pitfalls of experiential worship. To read more about worship and ministry in a postmodern culture we recommend Fitch's provocative new book The Great Giveaway: Reclaiming the Mission of the Church from Big Business, Parachurch Organizations, Psychotherapy, Consumer Capitalism, and Other Modern Maladies.
Hey all, thanks for this lively conversation. I'd like to take the opportunity to repond to some of your comments concerning the validity or lecture hall and rock concert style worship.
Some have said that what we need is "line by line" preaching. If by the "line by line" study of the Word of God you mean expository preaching, I do not wish to deny the importance of preaching, perhaps even expository preaching. However, if the peaching becomes simply truth propositions inductively sliced and distributed to autonomous isolated minds sitting in the pews taking notes on how to improve their lives (even their Christian lives), then to me this is not worship.
It is the distribution of information as another form of goods and services to consumers who are not changed by God's Word but only seek to use His Word to achieve their already decided wants and needs. This is what I am calling the danger of "lecture hall" worship. Would you at least concede that this in fact happens in many of our evangelical churches, esp. mega churches of our day?
To those who think we're over criticizing worship ... I think we need to rethink the format of many of our contemporary worship gatherings which rely on a long set of rock concert songs to elicit a good "worship experience." If this is another form of a "feel good pep rally" whose hymnody is not substantive enough to shape one's orientation towards our holy, almighty and sovereign God, then this worship inevitably turns narcissistic and fails as worship. To those of you complaining that we have once again criticized someone's worship, would you not at least concede that some evangelical worship falls into this category? That we then at least need to talk seriosuly about this issue in our worship?
There is certainly a sense in which all of life is worship. On my own blog I have argued that a "good party" can be a liturgy that shapes us in response to God's grace. I agree that liturgy is not limited to Sunday a.m. But I believe the postmodern writers powerfully argue that our selves (our subjectivities to use a good postmodern term from linguistic philosophy) are being shaped by cultural forces, discourses and ways of seeing. Therefore worship becomes the place out of which I as a Christian am formed towards His glory from which my life can be centered in my relationship to God in Christ. I can then go out and live the rest of my life out of that orientation. To me then it is simplistic to say all of life is worship.
Because of all of the above, I believe the return to liturgy is important. I believe the return to the mystery of the Table and the call-response participatory patterns of a relationship with God in worship are all important. And I am encouraged by the interest many emerging churches are showing in ancient forms of worship.
To all ... thanks for conversing. My wife and I leave for two weeks out of the country to adopt our son. But I'll try to at least get one more response in if it is warrented.
Blessed Advent to all
Posted by UrL at December 16, 2005 | Comments (13) | TrackBack
November 8, 2005
Expletive Undeleted: Dropping the F-bomb in Church
Leadership associate editor Skye Jethani tells the story Mike Sares shared with him at a conference earlier this year. Tell us what you would do if you were Mike.
A few days before Christmas, pastor Mike Sares got a call from his associate. “Mike,” he said, “Mary Kate Makkai has agreed to read one of her poems at the Christmas Eve service. It’s really, really good, but it’s got the F-bomb in it several times, and I just thought I should check with you about that.”
Sares first told me his unexpected “F-bomb story” last March at the FutureGen conference in Orlando. We’ve all heard the tales of pastors accidentally detonating a vulgar ordnance from the pulpit (everyone’s recent favorite being Blake Bergstrom’s infamous “pitch your tents” faux pas). But the dropping of multiple F-bombs during a Christmas Eve service with laser guided premeditation? That is nothing to laugh about.
Mike Sares pastors a congregation called “Scum of the Earth” in Denver, Colorado. No, Scum of the Earth is not your typical congregation. Scum calls itself “a church for the right brained and the left out.” They embrace authenticity, creativity, and those who are on the margins of society. That explains why Sares didn’t immediately take the nuclear option off the table. But he wasn’t quite ready to push the button either.
“My inclination on the phone was to say ‘go ahead and do it,’” says Sares. “I like to give artists a lot of freedom, but on this one I just wasn’t sure. I told my associate that I couldn’t give him an answer yet.”
Mary Kate Makkai, the poet under consideration, was a young woman Sares had known for years. She was on a long prodigal journey with her faith, and was just re-entering the church after years of living in the “far country.” Along with sensing the fragile state of her faith, Sares also recognized Makkai was an incredibly gifted poet.
Before coming to Scum, Makkai had been doing poetry therapy with juvenile delinquents. It was while working with those broken and angry young men that she recognized her own need for God. The poem she composed for Christmas Eve chronicled her own journey back to God. In it she quoted some of the raw language of the boys from her therapy group. Although sympathetic to Makkai, Sares sought advice before making a final decision.
“I called two pastor friends of mine, I called a seminary professor, and I called some of my supporters (pastors at Scum raise their own support). The two supporters were dead set against allowing the F-word. These were good people whose combined time in the faith had been seventy years. They simply thought it was inappropriate for that kind of word to ever be used in the context of a worship service. I got a big fat ‘no’ from them.
“However, the pastors were a bit more gray about it. They saw that Mary Kate was at a critical stage in her journey back to God, and they advised me to be careful not to squelch her. I felt that asking Mary Kate to clean this poem up before presenting it in church would be like asking the widow to wipe off her coins before dropping them in the offering plate.”
Beyond the pastoral implications of his decision, Sares also explored the theological and biblical issues with Dr. Craig Blomberg from Denver Seminary. “Dr. Blomberg said that the Bible is obviously a wonderful book, but if you take some parts out of the broader context you’re going to find some fairly dark things: incest, sodomy, murder—all sorts of terrible things. Mary Kate’s poem was about someone coming back to the Lord, which is a wonderful context. In the middle of that context, she quotes someone else who is very angry at life. Context became central to our discussion.
“The other consideration was the Ephesians 5 passage about foolish talk and coarse joking. Dr. Blomberg and I went over different ways to understand this passage, using the Greek, and we didn’t feel the poem fell under any of them. The poem was not a crude attempt at humor, and it was not immoral. In terms of obscenity, you’ve got to think of what might be considered obscene in your own congregation. In our setting, the F-bomb is just another noun/adjective/verb that expresses frustration for many people. It’s not cursing in terms of taking God’s name in vain, or asking God to damn someone to hell. This poem was being spoken as an honest hymn of redemption.”
Satisfied that there existed no scriptural prohibition against reading the poem, Sares finally considered the inevitable fallout the F-bomb would produce. “I knew it was going to offend people, and could really hurt my relationships with some of my supporters. Allowing Mary Kate to read that poem would probably hurt me in the pocketbook, too.”
What was he to do?
What would you do? Post your comments and come back soon for part two.
Posted by UrL at November 8, 2005 | Comments (89) | TrackBack