Confession is good for the soul, but terrible for the reputation. And it’s even worse when it comes to artists who are employed by the Church.
I’ve always wondered why so many senior pastors and executive leaders have a hard time trusting our tribe. I used to think their lack of trust was completely unfounded. But as I become more in touch with being an artist myself, I’m beginning to understand why we’re not the most trusted tools in the shed.
We artists spend a lot of effort critiquing those in authority over us. It’s really the easiest thing to do. But every now and again, it seems like we need to wave the magic wand of criticism over ourselves.
As we move through some specific tendencies, it’s important to note that I’ve never met an artist who displays every tendency. But some of us display some of them, some of the time. And it’s important for all artists to have the courage to look in the mirror and to not respond with any stink of a defensive victim mentality.
So if you haven’t turned to the next page yet, I looked in the mirror recently, and here’s what I discovered:
1. Many artists commit, then forget. Ask an artist to “get me that document” or “forward me that email,” and we’ll tell you, “Sure. Right after lunch.” We are entirely well meaning. And we never think about it again. Until an organized person in charge reminds us.
2. Many artists don’t write anything down. We honestly think we’ll remember. When I served on my church’s staff team, the best friend I had was a lead pastor who gently whispered, “Gary, did you want to write that down?” And when I didn’t write anything down, the root issue was always arrogance.
3. Most artists live one wrong decision away from disaster. Most people live 9-10 bad choices away from moral and personal ruin. Most people see the line, then move away. Artists see the line and stick their big toe over it, just to see what might happen. There is risk. There is rush. And artists love both.
4. Some artists lie. We lie to cover ourselves when we’re guilty of number one or number two.
5. Most artists struggle to see the larger narrative they’re living in. We’re tempted to think our stories are the biggest, most important stories being told. But the truth is that the senior pastor—more than anyone else in the church— sees the clearest portrait of the church’s big picture. Senior pastors get frustrated when the church won’t fulfill her biblical mandate. Artists get frustrated when Twitter goes offline.
6. Artists gossip. Not all, but some. Much of the time, we’re gossiping about the senior pastor who refuses to trust us.
7. Artists deflect blame. Our first reaction is usually to find someone else to blame the problem on. Then we engage in number four. An hour later, we engage in number six.
In my own life, it’s not rocket science to see a pattern here. If Christian artists could simply learn to do two things, we’d be a lot better off, and we’d make more of an impact on the masses exposed to the art we create.
First, we should commit to taking personal responsibility more seriously. When we don’t meet a deadline because we forgot, we should have the courage to simply say, “I’m sorry. I forgot. I’ll take care of it, and then give you an update later today.”
Have you ever worked with a person who doesn’t admit any personal responsibility? They never take the blame for anything. You’ll never hear this person say, “I’m sorry” or “My fault” or “I blew it.” It’s always “her fault” because “he” didn’t get “that thing” to “that leader.”
May we never become that person. May we NEVER EVER become that person. And if we’re already that person, may we journal it, pray it, Facebook it, then quit it.
Secondly, we should learn to follow through. Do what we say. Say what we do. Never walk into a staff meeting without a yellow pad and a pen, a Daytimer, a laptop, or a Notes App opened. Immediately following every meeting (or during the meeting if we’re wireless), we need to transfer our to-do notes onto something we’ll look at every day—our main computer, our wall, our secretary’s forehead. That transfer is what’s missing in the lives of most of the artists I know. It’s the missing link between verbally committing and actually getting the project done.
We all know that mirrored critique like this is very difficult to engage in. Our world would be flat and boring without artists. But our world would never move in any positive direction without leaders. May we be willing to look hard in the mirror, admit the flaws, and learn that artistry and leadership are not competing gifts. When they’re married together, you’ll never see a clearer portrait of authentic, redemptive beauty.
Gary Molander co-owns Floodgate Productions and Sermolicious. He also thinks author bios are funny because everyone knows that the author is writing them but they’re written in the third person as if someone else is writing them.