Tuesday, October 03, 2006
The Arts and Negative Comments
A thread started on an arts ministry list I belong to that spoke to how some of the members don't sing because someone once told them that they couldn't sing. This was my response.
I've seen this thread moving along and decided to weigh in. When I was a child I did ventriloquism. I loved it, I was told I was pretty good, etc. I loved to go and entertain groups of people. When I turned 12 my parents told me I was too old to play with dolls and wouldn't let me do it anymore. Were they trying to be evil? No they simply didn't want the other kids to have one more reason to make fun of me. They were trying to help, but in hindsight it didn't work. I became withdrawn, had no outlet and the abuse from the other kids only really increased. By the time I was a young adult, I had to have a few drinks to even think about standing up in front of people. And of course emboldened by the alcohol I often said and did idiotic things. By the time I started going to church I hated to go to Sunday School because sometimes I would be asked to read aloud.
So what changed, well first of all the Lord got ahold of me. I got saved. But second was a caring pastor began to work out of my giftedness. He saw I was an artist, so he got me plugged in to the church by asking me to paint the backdrops for VBS skits. From there someone asked me to take one of the skit parts, I got to wear a goofy costume and people were supposed to laugh at me, so even if I blew it, it was okay. It was low risk but it gave me some confidence. That moved into more serious roles, then into readings, leading worship (not singing but doing all the other stuff in the service), which led to youth ministry to preaching. Today I pastor a church and guess what, My son (who is wired very much the same way I was) and I do puppets in church, nearly every Sunday. Thirty years later I'm still not tooo old to play with dolls.
My parents would not support me going to art school, because they didn't want to see me starving in an attic somewhere, so I went to be an electronics engineer and flunked out in a year. I've earned a living for most of my life guess how. That's right by doing some sort of art. I am what I was made to be. My parents' trying to protect me out of pure motives and love, have actually held me back in some ways, but I still ended up being what God made me to be. My goal as a parent is to help my kids to develop what God made them to be rather than looking at the practicality of it.
One other thing while I'm on the subject. I gave my art gift to God a couple of years ago and he has blessed me with the opportunity to go out and teach people how to use their gifts to "teach, preach and reach." It never ceases to amaze me how crushing these comments from teachers and parents and others can be. I have one woman who breaks into a sweat at the thought of doing art. This is not an unbalanced person or someone who lacks self esteem, she may be one of the most confident people I have ever met in most areas, but in this area, she quivers and shakes and sweats. Why? Someone once told her she was bad at art early on.
How many people don't lift their voices to the Lord because someone somewhere told them they couldn't sing, probably a tired stressed out parent or a tenured music teacher who should have retired years ago (that's my story)? I think we need to take the pressure off of the arts and allow people to use them to express their praise to God. It's not about excellence as the world defines it, it's about giving your best to God. He knows the voice he gave you, he knows the talent level he gave you. He knows when you're giving your best and for Him that's good enough. This was beautifully illustrated for me again last week. I was leading an arts ministry service and there was a young man there with Downes Syndrome. When it came to the worship singing, some would say he couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, but not me. He was lifting His voice to the Lord, loud and proud and unashamed and it was beautiful. Some perfectionists may have wished he would quiet down, but I was smiling and so was God.
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A thread started on an arts ministry list I belong to that spoke to how some of the members don't sing because someone once told them that they couldn't sing. This was my response.
I've seen this thread moving along and decided to weigh in. When I was a child I did ventriloquism. I loved it, I was told I was pretty good, etc. I loved to go and entertain groups of people. When I turned 12 my parents told me I was too old to play with dolls and wouldn't let me do it anymore. Were they trying to be evil? No they simply didn't want the other kids to have one more reason to make fun of me. They were trying to help, but in hindsight it didn't work. I became withdrawn, had no outlet and the abuse from the other kids only really increased. By the time I was a young adult, I had to have a few drinks to even think about standing up in front of people. And of course emboldened by the alcohol I often said and did idiotic things. By the time I started going to church I hated to go to Sunday School because sometimes I would be asked to read aloud.
So what changed, well first of all the Lord got ahold of me. I got saved. But second was a caring pastor began to work out of my giftedness. He saw I was an artist, so he got me plugged in to the church by asking me to paint the backdrops for VBS skits. From there someone asked me to take one of the skit parts, I got to wear a goofy costume and people were supposed to laugh at me, so even if I blew it, it was okay. It was low risk but it gave me some confidence. That moved into more serious roles, then into readings, leading worship (not singing but doing all the other stuff in the service), which led to youth ministry to preaching. Today I pastor a church and guess what, My son (who is wired very much the same way I was) and I do puppets in church, nearly every Sunday. Thirty years later I'm still not tooo old to play with dolls.
My parents would not support me going to art school, because they didn't want to see me starving in an attic somewhere, so I went to be an electronics engineer and flunked out in a year. I've earned a living for most of my life guess how. That's right by doing some sort of art. I am what I was made to be. My parents' trying to protect me out of pure motives and love, have actually held me back in some ways, but I still ended up being what God made me to be. My goal as a parent is to help my kids to develop what God made them to be rather than looking at the practicality of it.
One other thing while I'm on the subject. I gave my art gift to God a couple of years ago and he has blessed me with the opportunity to go out and teach people how to use their gifts to "teach, preach and reach." It never ceases to amaze me how crushing these comments from teachers and parents and others can be. I have one woman who breaks into a sweat at the thought of doing art. This is not an unbalanced person or someone who lacks self esteem, she may be one of the most confident people I have ever met in most areas, but in this area, she quivers and shakes and sweats. Why? Someone once told her she was bad at art early on.
How many people don't lift their voices to the Lord because someone somewhere told them they couldn't sing, probably a tired stressed out parent or a tenured music teacher who should have retired years ago (that's my story)? I think we need to take the pressure off of the arts and allow people to use them to express their praise to God. It's not about excellence as the world defines it, it's about giving your best to God. He knows the voice he gave you, he knows the talent level he gave you. He knows when you're giving your best and for Him that's good enough. This was beautifully illustrated for me again last week. I was leading an arts ministry service and there was a young man there with Downes Syndrome. When it came to the worship singing, some would say he couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, but not me. He was lifting His voice to the Lord, loud and proud and unashamed and it was beautiful. Some perfectionists may have wished he would quiet down, but I was smiling and so was God.
