"Hearts and Hands" Part III

Several days before the "Hearts and Hands of David" workshop, it was decided that a few of the workshops scheduled for two days would be reduced to one, for the sake of attendance. I was a bit wary of that, but it turned out to be a blessing—because instead of having 11 attendees, I had at least 22. Judging from the enthusiastic discussion and positive feedback, I think the presentation was a success. Certainly not because I'm a wonderful speaker or anything, but because it seemed to have gotten some gears turning. And that was the whole point. So I'll conclude today by attempting to do the same for my readers.

After digesting the opening sermon and keynote a little, I was able to verbally insert some relevant points into my lecture that were not included in the paper. With any discussion on worship, music, and art, I think it is important to include real-world applications and examples. It's one thing to agree with an abstract or theological statement; it's quite another to put it into practice in our own congregations. The following are some of my expanded thoughts on those "side notes" in the presentation.

I think there are abundant examples of people who have the "heart" to serve God, to create new places of worship and works of art, but they don't have the "hands," or the gifts, to create it themselves. But instead of finding someone from that third group, someone with both the "heart and hands," it often occurs that they find artists from the first group—those who have artistic gifts, but no particular desire to use them to God's glory or the edification of his Church. How can this be expected to work? How can we expect people who do not worship God to create something that will take into account the many facets of Christian theology and worship?

Sometimes, despite the contradiction, this can produce desirable results—but only if the church's building committee is well-informed, has a good idea of what they want, and holds its ground in matters of theological symbolism, tradition, aesthetics, function, etc. There are a few examples of this. For instance, Faith Lutheran Church (WELS) in Antioch, IL, built a beautiful structure that, while modern, reflects a strong level of involvement by the theologians, musicians, and informed laymen (see below). Martin Luther College's Chapel of the Christ is another great example. Both of these worship spaces feature a triptych, oddly enough. And they are both undeniably beautiful, superbly functional, deeply symbolic, traditional, and yet modern worship spaces.

Source: www.faithantioch.org

So while it is possible to achieve good results with this approach, I think it will always be an uphill battle. But I most often see cases where the battle was resigned before it began. In other words, the "vision" of the architect or the artist took priority over considerations of tradition, symbolism, aesthetics, and function. I can think of dozens of examples. But one that sticks out in my mind, and is probably familiar to many members of the WELS, is St. Croix Lutheran High School's chapel (see below). It's a clear example of an artist or team of architects using the worship space as a billboard for their artistic ingenuity, originality, and expression.

Source: www.stcroixlutheranhs.org

It dispenses with every single artistic convention of nearly 2,000 years of church history. Even the familiar latin cross is replaced by the "tau" cross—reportedly in order to "draw attention." I wonder if they realized that the "tau" was only used because displaying the sign of the cross would draw unwanted attention from those who were hunting Christians. That is to say, they created an oxymoron. The chapel is designed in the round, with the altar in the center (which sounds like a good idea to anyone who has never tried it). I think the chapel is also an example of architects taking advantage of Christians who desire sincere symbolism in their churches. For instance, the exposed girders in the chapel ceiling were described as representing the framework of the body of Christ. It seems that many Christians feel that since they aren't artists, they have to quietly go along with things that seem strange or even ridiculous to their sensibilities—for instance, bogus symbolism. (F.Y.I. Girders are always girders, and it's okay to call their bluff.)

This is the difficult thing. Christians are hesitant to cause offense, especially in matters we consider to be adiaphora. But sometimes it cannot be avoided. We are not doing ourselves any favors when we compromise our values of excellence in worship for the sake of being polite. Someone has to say that the Emperor is naked.

Art of the past century has indoctrinated us to believe two things: 1) that art is subjective, and 2) that "real" art is too deep for anyone but the "elite" to understand. We are supposed to stand in awe of Jackson Pollack because the artistic elite in the 1950s thought his "action painting" was only the culmination of five millennia of art history. And so our laymen are tricked into going along with this or that architectural plan, mosaic mural, or zen rock garden because 1) art is subjective anyway, and 2) what do we laymen really know about art?

Until people start to listen to their gut—their consciences, even—and object to this silliness, it will continue to find its way into our churches. You have every right and responsibility to speak out, because: 1) art for worship is not subjective. It is as objective as art can be. It submits itself to the Word of God, to the gospel, to the sensibilities of faithful Christians, and to the wisdom of the historical Christian Church. 2) Art for worship is not elitist. It must be as universal as art can be. It must be readily accessible to laymen. It submits itself to the clear communication of the gospel message.

These are objective measuring rods. If the art in our churches does not measure up, we must seek to replace it with "whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable...excellent or praiseworthy," and to look upon such things. There are Lutheran artists and architects who have a heart to worship God and the gifts to create excellent and worshipful art. Seek them out, and the Church will benefit from it.

"Hearts and Hands" Part II

(Continued from Part I) The opening service took place in the college chapel, was led by Koiné, and consisted of several hymns appropriately substituted for the parts of the liturgy. The sermon, by Pastor Mike Novotny, was based on several excerpts from the life of David (1 & 2 Samuel), and explained how the theme "Hearts and Hands of David" applied to the goals of the workshop.

The premise of the sermon was that there are three classifications of people in the world. The first group is comprised of people who have "hands"—that is, talent—but who use their talents only for personal gain. Countless gifted businessmen, artists, musicians, and actors use their talents to amass wealth and fame. The second group is comprised of people who have "heart"—that is, a desire to serve their Lord—but God has not seen fit to bless them with artistic talent. The third group is exemplified by King David. David was a "man after the Lord's own heart." He was blessed not only with musical talent, military prowess, and numerous other gifts, but he had a fervent desire to use his gifts to God's glory. The application of this lesson was that people who find themselves in the first group should strive to be in the third—to use their talents in the building up of God's Church and to God's glory. Those who find themselves in the second group should in every way possible support and encourage those in the third group.

The opening service was followed by the keynote address by Pastor Aaron Christie. During the presentation, he allowed for several group discussion sessions (which I thought were appropriate), but these ran long and, unfortunately, shortened Pastor Christie's comments. But to give you the gist of it, I've paraphrased some of his key points here:

1. Modern consumerist culture equates "what I like" with "what is good." In the Church, however, questions of taste are virtually irrelevant. We concern ourselves instead with excellence.
2. The discussion of contemporary music in worship did not begin when rock and roll was invented. This is an old question, and the solution is not a musical (or artistic) one.
3. The texts of worship—not musical styles—are of primary concern. The gospel of Christ should predominate our worship.
4. Let the congregation participate. Worship, unlike entertainment, is not a spectator sport. Don't force music that was written for a soloist into a participatory idiom.
5. Let the experience of the church be honored. The worship of the historical church did not come about arbitrarily, but with careful consideration, much God-given ability, artful application, and love for God.

At this early point in the workshop, I was incredibly encouraged. I would describe myself as somewhat resistant to contemporary worship. I love the old Lutheran hymns, and I see most contemporary worship groups as an attempt to discard with traditional hymns and worship styles. But "Hearts and Hands" proved to be a genuine attempt to take the modern into the traditional, rather than to replace the latter with the former.

Unfortunately, if the opening service and keynote address presented an entirely genuine, balanced, and scriptural approach to the arts in worship, portions of the workshop that followed failed to live up to that standard. In the following day and a half, there were several bands that led worship with very egocentric, musically trite, praise music. With the exception of Koiné, very little was fitting for congregational singing. And worst of all, one of the pastor's sermons encouraged unabashed consumerism with the themes, "I love this church" and "What's on the menu?" To top it all off, he used Acts 15 to imply that adhering to traditional worship and customs amounts to sinful legalism. I could sense that many attendees, myself included, were offended and even disgusted.

A gross misunderstanding of worship, coupled with Christian freedom untempered by Christian love, creates a dangerous environment—one in which I am convinced God-pleasing worship cannot survive. While the workshop got off to a wonderful start, set godly goals for itself, and featured some excellent speakers, there were a number of people there whose obvious intent was to "gather around them a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear" (2 Timothy 4:3). It perhaps seems judgmental of me to say that, but I do know this: 1) Satan is hard at work within the church, 2) some of the most outspoken supporters of contemporary worship were also the least knowledgable about worship, and 3) the same people showed little regard for legitimate concerns raised by other attendees or their own members.

There is a lot of work to do, folks. I am primarily addressing laymen, because an informed and active laity is worth its weight in gold. It's hard to say whether this all-out push towards contemporary worship is coming from the laity or the clergy. I suspect the latter. But just because we (i.e., laymen) do not wear frocks does not mean that we cannot read the scriptures and make informed decisions about music, worship, and art. Lutheranism is wonderfully democratic in that way; God's Word is the ultimate authority—not the church.

I hate to end on a downer. But the workshop was overall a positive experience, and I will conclude my review tomorrow.

"Hearts and Hands" Part I

This summer I was invited to speak at a worship arts conference at Wisconsin Lutheran College, entitled "Hearts and Hands of David." They asked if I would give two sessions of a 75-minute presentation, and the topic they left open to me (as long as it had something to do with the visual arts and worship). I was very honored to accept this invitation, and began by researching my intended audience.

The workshop was co-hosted by Koiné, a Lutheran music group that seeks to put strong and beloved hymns to contemporary instrumentation. So when I looked up the web page for the workshop, I began having second thoughts. There were break-out sessions for guitarists, bassists, drummers, vocalists, etc., and I feared I had just agreed to present at a "How to praise God with your electric guitar" workshop. (Thankfully, that turned out not to be the case.)

When I asked myself what it was that I most wanted people to learn about the arts in worship, I knew that the focus needed to be on the "worship" aspect. An improper theological understanding of worship serves as a flimsy foundation, regardless of what you build on it. Worship that is self-centered will naturally produce self-centered artwork. We've seen it all before. A simple web search of "worship art" returns scores of images of people with upraised hands, hands folded in prayer, etc. The fact is that many Christians believe that worship is an act that is performed for God.

I entitled my presentation: Vehicles of the Gospel: The Visual Arts in Lutheran Worship (feel free to read, download, and distribute). In the first part of the paper, I examined what worship is from a biblical perspective. I cited examples of worship and discussed the sacramental focus of worship in Old and New Testament. Every song recorded in the Bible declares the works of God, from the song of Miriam at the Red Sea to the song of the redeemed in heaven. There is no such thing as "empty praise." If a song does not declare God's salvation for us, it is not praise! In addition to proclaiming his gospel through song, God fills our worship with his life-giving gifts: the forgiveness of sins, Word, and sacrament.

The presentation continued with the theological distinction between personal worship (Christian living) and public (corporate) worship. What may be appropriate and worshipful in the former may be distracting and even harmful in the latter. I then discussed Luther's evolving view on the arts, and how that affected artistic practice in the early Protestantism. While some reformers were radically iconoclastic, it is noteworthy that Luther (eventually) sanctioned the artistic tradition as a vehicle through which the gospel could be proclaimed. He argued that it should therefore not be discarded, despite its abuses in the church. There are many examples of art that was very "Catholic" in flavor, but was retained in churches that had adopted Lutheranism. (See photo: "The Annunciation" in St. Lorenz Church, Nuremberg. Note the large rosary beads hanging from the circumference of this near-life-size wooden sculpture.)

(source: wikipedia)

The presentation continued with a brief outline of art history from the sixteenth century to the twentieth. There are countless factors that probably contributed to the decline of artwork in the church, but certainly one of the most important was Modernism. It embraced church art and architecture as a means of self-expression and of meditation on transcendence. It emphasized newness and altogether despised and discarded tradition. Christian artists who were trained in the Modernist aesthetic apparently did not sense the oxymoron in the notion of self-expression in liturgical art. If Christ or the gospel message appears at all in Modernist and Postmodernist worship art, it is usually forced to compete with the artist's emotions or stylization for our attention. (I'll give you one guess as to which one usually wins out.)

(source: liturgicalartblog)

My next post will continue with a discussion of the "Hearts and Hands of David" workshop.

Northwest Territories

I really enjoy history. Recently I completed a commission for a map that will be used for a film documentary about George Rogers Clark. The documentary covers the expansion of US territories shortly after the Revolutionary War. I was asked to make a few versions of the map so that the territories can morph into the present states. It was interesting to see how strangely shaped some of the states were, because the colonies had claimed huge swaths of land that no one had really explored yet—and some of those claims were disputed with England and Spain. The first map shows the United States circa 1780, and the second shows the same territories circa 1860 as states in their more-or-less present form.

There is a bit of a wonky character to most maps from that time period, because they didn't have extremely accurate ways of mapping large territories. Because of this, I didn't worry too much about getting the map as accurate as possible. And in some places, I gave preference to the drawing on older maps, especially where they were distorted. It gives it an added vintage quality, which is what the filmmakers were going for.

Watercolor process

Well, in case anyone was wondering, I'm not dead. It's just been an extremely busy six months. My son was born in November. In January we decided we couldn't afford to stay in Savannah any longer, so we moved to Omaha the first week of April. I went on some job interviews later that month. Then I gave a lecture on worship arts in Wisconsin. And now we're still trying to get settled and I'm still looking for a second job, but trying to get back into the swing of things.

This is what I was working on before the move. These are some process photos of the watercolor illustrations for "The Stick and the Stone." The paper is stretched wet and stapled onto a 1/2" plywood board. I transfer the drawing onto the paper with graphite transfer paper. With this backlit piece, I applied masking fluid to the sun and did the sky first, working from background to foreground. I usually do some minor tweaking with values and color in Photoshop for the final.

A peek at the studio