Prodigal Artists: Inspiration From “The Voice”

The other day, I was watching NBC’s The Voice, and a scene unfolded that really spoke to me at the heart level.

Nicholas David, a bearded, long-haired, mountain-man-looking guy with an incredibly soulful voice, performed an excellent rendition of “Lean On Me”, accompanied by a gospel choir. After the performance, his coach Cee Lo Green began sharing his feedback, and he stopped and began to tear up. “My parents were both ministers, so the gospel is very close to me,” he told David. “I felt like I a child in the presence of my Maker, in the presence of the same Maker that made you.”

You can see the performance in the video below, although I couldn’t find a YouTube clip showing the coaches’ responses. Just so you have some context for what happened next. 🙂

So here was Cee Lo Green, the guy behind Gnarls Barkley and Goodie Mob, the guy who scored a big hit with the song “F**k You,” falling immediately tender at the very sound of gospel music. I didn’t know much about Cee Lo before watching The Voice, but behind the glitz and flamboyance is a person who is very sensitive, compassionate and tender. An artist.

This wasn’t the first time I’d witnessed a moment like this–a moment where a celebrity and/or musician (including some who are known for fast living) has broken in the presence of the gospel, or God, or anything related to church. It reminded me of how many of these souls actually have had deep rooted backgrounds in church, and how that never leaves them, even if they walk away from it. It also reminded me of how receptive these people can be to the unfettered love of God when they feel it.  As I watched this scene, I was also reminded of why I’m doing what I’m doing these days. It kindled afresh the passion in me to reach out to the creative community with God’s love and a sense of mission.

Artists, by nature, tend to be very sensitive people, easily touched, and also easily wounded. It’s part of what makes us artists, able to convey deep emotion in the things we create. Artists can’t tap into this part of the human experience without being a little bit thin-skinned. The problem is that the thin skin also makes artists quite vulnerable. And for those who have been raised in church–you probably know where I’m going with this–if you know about the woundings that can happen in the church setting (not with Christianity in general, but with what we have come to know as “church”, specifically), you can understand why so many have walked away from that. Either their creativity was squelched in some way, or their souls were wounded by some combination of hypocrisy or injustice. Yes, for some, they walked away out of pure rebellion, for that’s a vice that exists in all of us, anyhow. But for others, they simply walked away wounded.

I’ve also observed that for many artist types, it is this very wounding that causes them to form a “hard shell”–a toughened persona that is intended to protect them emotionally. This comes out in a variety of ways, usually manifesting in some sort of “don’t f**k with me” attitude in their mannerisms, and even in their art/music. But every once in awhile, something pierces through the armor, and that sensitive, vulnerable person comes out. Voila–a Cee Lo moment.

When I was deeply entrenched in the institutional church as a worship leader, I often taught and preached about these dynamics within the artist persona. I shared about how many artists and musicians had grown up rooted in Judeo-Christian backgrounds, and how many had walked away as they grew up–and how God wanted them back. At the time, my mentality was that God wanted these people “back in church,” doing what they do “for His glory” instead of “squandering” it in the world. Of course, at the time, I confused the glory of God with the glory of institutional church; I couldn’t actually tell the two apart.

These days, however, my perspective has changed greatly. Yes, God wants the prodigal artists to come home–but that doesn’t necessarily mean their talents are to be used to make some church look good somewhere. God wants them back, but I’ve come to see that He is far more willing to show up where they are than to demand that they come back to a brick-and-mortar institution that people recognize as “church.” I’ve also come to recognize that God’s glory is expressed when people are being creative, whether or not they are purposefully doing it unto Him. I think I’ve always had a deep drawing to minister to the creative community, but all of these things have drastically reshaped what that can look like. I realize that some of these artists may never feel comfortable in institutional church (after all, I sure don’t), but God still invites them into the larger, more authentic community of faith.

And so, when it comes to reaching creative people, my focus has shifted from a desire to “get them saved” so as to plug them back into a religious expression, and more toward a simpler desire to share God’s love with them in tangible ways, in the hope that they respond to it–and let God take it from there. This is informing my whole approach to what I’m now doing in the coffee shop on Sunday mornings, along with some other ideas I have in the incubator right now.

The gifts and calling of God are irrevocable–both for me and for the artists whom He has gifted and called. I can see that despite my deconstruction from institutional church, I never really stopped being a pastor–I’ve just gotten a deeper understanding of who my congregation is. 🙂