One Church, Myriad Arts: Excellence & Economics
Should the arts offered by the church even attempt to match the subtlety, grace, and power of those offered by secular enterprises? The short answer, to paraphrase Flannery O’Connor: If not, I say to hell with them.
Yes, the objectives are different. Yet how many church arts programs declare excellence as a core value? One of the main reasons the church finds itself restyling and regurgitating secular offerings is that the church’s only real interest in the arts is an umbilical cord to Sunday services. More on that to come.
At present, the church relates to the arts under significant duress. The church has 52 weeks to fill and not much of a budget to fill them with. Even the most wealthy, well-resourced churches feel the pinch of the calendar, the “always another Sunday” factor.
Consistent excellence is not an option under such conditions. This is simple economics. The movie clip the pastor uses to illustrate his sermon was part of a project two years and $20M in the making—at least. The sermon took 15-20 hours start to finish.
Yet lack of resources is always cited as the reason people go unreached. When it comes to church and the arts, the problem isn’t only cash or resources. It’s an often myopic, overly practical view of mission. As Bono said, “The God I believe in is never short of cash, mister.”
The depth of the church’s mission shouldn’t be equivocated with the quality of the artistic offerings it “utilizes” on Sundays. There’s far more to it. But one of the seismic shifts the church must make in order to reach the first world missions field is a significant investment in talent and resource sharing.
What’s missing from local worship arts communities are the long, life-giving, luxurious stretches of time needed to produce excellent original art—art that reflects on, serves, and reaches out from the community (communities) from which it comes.
Partnerships between churches are not uncommon, and many churches share buildings and equipment. But sharing worship arts resources can release an extraordinary amount of potential.
If three or four churches within a reasonable geographic distance fully commit their arts resources to each other, several benefits emerge:
- The congregations are exposed to a wider artistic vision and ministry
- The worship arts teams meet the opportunity to grow into and minister in a new context
- The teams and congregations gain opportunity to learn directly from each other
- Each team can take a significant amount of time away from the Sunday to Sunday routine in which to receive in worship, create, bond, rest, and study
The arguments against talent sharing are obvious: finance, logistics, shared equipment, disparity in church size, etc. But under all of these is the central argument of church identity. How will a joint program be led? How will the money work? The service form? People come to this or that church in part because of the music, don’t they? If people wanted to hear the crappy worship at xyz church, they’d go to xyz church! (I’d love to check out ‘xyz church,’ by the way.)
Here’s the thing: people need to lighten up. The model, the directive, is one church, not thousands. How do we get to that place? What unites the people of God more fluently and powerfully than worship?
Maybe the music at xyz church is crappy because they don’t ever make time to practice, or they don’t know how to organize their rehearsals. How will they learn? If talent sharing is led and communicated well, the congregations are energized and happy, especially when they see the long term benefits begin to take root.
Besides, and more basically, the church is supposed to share. A lot. All the time. Deeply.
If we can’t share worship, what can we share?
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