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

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.

© John van de Laar

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.

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Are Pastors Killing Artists?

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

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

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:

  1. (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.
  2. Don’t let your personal aesthetic get in the way of allowing people to express freely.
  3. Do not criticize them under any circumstance.
  4. Provide a de-briefing time after services to help process.
  5. 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:

  1. You can totally write your own songs
  2. In the room setup, something other than the music should be the focus.
  3. 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)
  4. 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.
  5. 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).
  6. Give plenty of space for those who would want to move around while allowing for those who are less mobile or expressive.
  7. Don’t let the service be governed by a false sense of obligatory seriousness. God invented humor, for pete’s sake.
  8. See #7.

© Todd Fadel


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.

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

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.

image 1 © Sarah Jensen
words and other images © Stephen Proctor


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.

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A Third Goal for Worship Curation?

When we curate weekly worship, I find we typically have one goal in mind: the formation of people into the likeness of Christ. Our hope is that through throughtful gathering and ordering of stuff we will create a meaningful narrative through which the Spirit will choose to move and speak, drawing close the ones he loves.

When we curate more involved events – a Good Friday stations of the cross, for example – most of us include the same goal of spiritual formation, with perhaps the additional bit of hope for mission thrown in.

But, aside from formation and mission, there is another goal to consider when putting together a worship event. That goal is leader development. The process and execution of curated worship provides excellent opportunity for mentoring, imparting vision to, and attracting, new leaders. Though leader development may never be our primary concern for any event, I suggest that we would be amiss – verging on being horrible stewards – to not approach each act of curation with some clear ideas about how leaders will be multiplied and matured in all that our planning and designing entails.

I lived in Denver for one year. I was called then to work with a team of missional strategists and a church called Adullam in the role as one primarily concerned with worship. There, I found a diversity of artists who had not been officially recognized, encouraged, or gathered in any capacity. I felt compelled to draw them together, imagining the possibility of an art collective that would impact our local church body as well as our neighborhood and the greater city of Denver. How to initiate such a dream? I used the curation of a stations event as an excuse to gather, create, and curate together.

There were four steps I used to move these scattered and unrecognized artists toward becoming an organized and mobilized collective of artists.

Cause?
I first located our cause. What would be our purpose? Why call these people together? To what end? For me, it was the desire to see artists come together for two reasons: liturgical innovation in the local church and artistic experimentation in the broader culture.

Call
Next, I made contact. One’s chosen method of contact should depend on a number of factors, including: one’s clout in the community, the contact information one has, and the time available to invest. I chose Facebook. Not only do I like the medium, our church had a very active Facebook page. My approach included sending out a message that basically said, “I’m Eric (remember me?) and I’m really interested in gathering any and all who consider themselves artists at Adullam.” I clarified. “By artist, I mean those with professional, college, or job experience in some kind of art medium. Serious hobbyists also qualify. Please respond if this is you and I’ll let you know what else I have in mind.” (Notice, I didn’t layout my whole plan. I said just enough to create some intrigue about my secret agenda.)

Commune
My “call” received about twenty responses – more than I had hoped for in this church of about one-hundred! The next step was to bring them physically together. Naturally, I planned to share with them my heart and ideas for what we could accomplish together. But, I knew it couldn’t just be all about doing. There was only one thing to do to ensure our time was communal as well as informational: order pizza! We gathered for the first meeting, many of us unfamiliar with one another, and we ate together. I also made sure that our first time together included a healthy dose of discussion – time for everyone to share about themselves and their own desires for art, worship, and mission. After a couple hours together, I knew we were going to do/be something great!

As expected, when I called the second meeting, less than twenty showed up. This was disappointing since I wanted everyone at the first meeting to return. At the same time, I was encouraged because I knew those who did come back a second time meant business. There must have been something about the initial meeting that made ten people sacrifice another evening of their busy lives to investigate further the possibilities. I laid out my specific plan in this second meeting. Though my eventual goal was to engage greater Denver with art events beyond worship – I knew that we needed to start with something more tangible, something we could get our heads and hands around and accomplish with success. I proposed designing a stations of the cross experience for Good Friday. Ten people were all in. We had about two months to brainstorm, assign, build, and present the event we called Via Crucis.

Curate
Our curation process was a group process. This allowed for diverse input and total buy in, as everyone had a voice. We started with a discussion of the traditional stations of the cross. We used a document I had prepared which listed them out, including scripture texts. We sat on couches in a circle and discussed each station, one by one, including the narrative texts, the literal actions, and metaphors contained in each station theme. Next, we stood up and in groups of two or three, the artists took five minutes at each of fourteen large post-its hung around the room. The assignment: brainstorm as many creative ideas as you can in five minutes. Soon, we had a lot of silly station ideas and some really good ones that could be assigned to everyone present. We ended up doing twelve of the fourteen traditional stations -  a couple of us taking responsibility for designing and implementing more than one.

Why curate this way? I could’ve have just picked twelve people, assigned stations and said, “Meet you back on Maundy Thursday for set-up.” Instead, I chose to view this stations event as an opportunity to empower latent artists, mentor them through action together, build unity through a common, imminent goal, and discover each other’s artistic gifts as we moved through the process of curation together.

images of Adullam Arts Collective’s 2009 Via Crucis by © Andrew Silk

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