When Worship Becomes Second

I celebrate and cheer the efforts of today’s generation in the church to be more like the hands and feet of Christ; actively serving the world, meeting real needs, and living out what Jesus charged us with in Matthew 25. However, it pains me to see us lose focus on worship in the process. Here’s what I mean:

When we put worship second, we put the cart before the horse. We let the tail wag the dog. More than that, it’s a deadly problem to a community of believers, not because serving those in need is a lower priority, but because we do it with the wrong motives and without a springboard from which to launch.

Because ultimately, it is out of worship that a life of service begins. Not the other way around.

This is the primary difference between spiritual acts of service and worldly acts of service. Spiritual acts are prompted by a calling. Worldly acts are prompted out of a desire to gratify an internal motive, whether that motive is checking off good deeds or just trying to feel less selfish. Compassion is something we all share, but it’s simply not enough.

The current and upcoming generation has a big problem in this area. We seek to attract non-believers by appearing compassionate. Tired of being associated with the ‘country-club’ culture present in so many older churches, we distance ourselves from the banquet table that feeds the purpose of our service. Yet therein lies our problem: we water down the reason we serve at the expense of the vessel through which we are equipped to serve.

When I see more money and energy being poured into missions and service, I rejoice. When it’s at the expense of creating intimate worship, I mourn. No wonder we see people burn out. No wonder our attendance shrinks while our volunteer base becomes more sparse and shallow.

That’s because people are fed in worship. Worship recharges our souls. It heals us. We find rest in Him. It frees us of the sin that entangles day after day. We experience “a love that surpasses knowledge,” and are “filled to the measure of all the fullness of God (Eph. 3:19.)” And yet, why do we continue to give less and less priority to corporate worship? When people say they’re leaving our churches because they aren’t being fed, let’s not negate this and treat it as complacency. When we breed ‘Christmas-Easter’ Christians because we just want to keep people comfortable, we should blame ourselves. While worship isn’t about us, it does feed us. When you cut off your Body’s nutrition, your members starve and their servant-muscles begin to atrophy.

As media professionals, we experience this firsthand. This is especially true if you’re employed in a church where you can’t worship corporately due to work obligations. We speak much about Sabbath. Sabbath isn’t just another name for a day off – It’s a chance for us to acknowledge that God doesn’t, in fact, need us to keep the world turning, and we subsequently engage single-mindedly in worship and rest. The more we marginalize this time, the less equipped we’ll be for a life of service, whatever form that service may take.

I’m sure there are some objections to this. Can you serve without worshiping? Sure. Can you worship without serving? I guess. Will either be effective? Not at all.

I believe that the church can be the championing force of love and service in hurting places. But only if we begin with a life of worship, not the other way around.

Tolkien vs. Jackson: Storytelling for Cinema

The Hobbit has been in theatres now for close to a month, garnering both praise and criticism for its story-telling and visuals. For the record, I’m not a film snob – in fact, I’ll readily admit that I enjoy good CG eye-candy as much as I do the story (this, in itself, is an excommunicable sin among film lovers). However, I think The Hobbit movie serves as a great springboard for discussing some foundational story-telling principles. While the following four concepts aren’t even remotely new ideas, they are indeed personal reiterations, warranted by seeing a beloved childhood book brought to life by cinema.

[Disclaimer: this post contains more than your recommended daily intake of nerdiness. Also, spoilers. You’ve been warned.]

1) In cinema, conflict is everything.

In good stories, the plot must be driven with purpose. We find interest when there’s contrast – contrast we get only from well-placed conflict. In fact, some would say that conflict IS the story. If the protagonist makes his/her way through a series of random encounters, we haven’t really experienced a conflict as much as some amusing mishaps. In short, we need a compelling reason to feel emotionally connected to our characters.

In the Hobbit book, we experience a rather linear story of seemingly random events. Orcs aren’t pursuing Thorin. We have no idea that Dwarves harbor a grudge against Elves. The Arkenstone isn’t even mentioned until the last half, while the Necromancer barely receives an honorable mention. There is no real thread – just a bunch of isolated – albeit, highly enjoyable – encounters (all this said from a huge Tolkien fan).

Jackson’s writers had a unique challenge: create conflict without fundamentally altering the story. They had a beloved novel to adhere to and the weight of massive Middle-earth canon to support. But without conflict, you can’t drive a story. While many fans are crying foul at larger additions such as the White Council, it’s the subtler changes that make the biggest impact. Take the Trollshaws scene: in the book, the Dwarves are captured one-by-one by their stupidy. In the Jackson’s iteration, the Dwarves are forced to surrender when Biblo is in a life-or-death situation. Fantastic use of conflict.

While such conflicts were more of embelishments than outright fabrications, they helped evolve the Hobbit from a sequence of random events to a true conflict-driven story. I think Gandalf said it best in the beginning: “All good stories deserve embellishment.” I would add that all good stories deserve good conflict.

2) The writers had to make Tolkien “show it, not say it.”

I used to think, like many Tolkien fans, that Jackson showed too much too fast. In the Lord of the Rings, we saw scenes from Mordor and Isengard long before we ever have mention of them in the book. We experience a lot of great action merely through second-hand retelling. While I don’t think this was a sin as much as it was Tolkien’s style (he did, afterall, write it more for himself than for an audience), I think cinema affords a better format to “show it, not say it.”

Jackson and his team picked up on this and decided to deliberately show what was normally only discussed in dialog, adding great interest, not just because they had to the tools and because it’s a visual medium, but because it makes for better story-telling. I think about the first thirty minutes of Disney Pixar’s WALL-E. Not a word spoken. But how powerful!

It will be interesting to see how Jackson and his writers approach the Necromancer and the Battle of Five Armies. No doubt, there will be some heavy doses of epicness. But why take the easy way out and simply delegate it to dialog like in the book?

3) The tools and techniques must bend to the story, not vice versa.

I’m amazed at how visionary Jackson’s team and techniques on the Lord of the Rings seem, even in light of today’s innovations. Many of my mentors have taught me that problem-solving trumps know-how. In other words, you need to know how to make the tools work the way you want, rather than be limited by what’s in front of you. But that’s not the point, is it?

The rule of thumb is if people don’t notice it and feel immersed, you’ve done your job. Spin that and say that if people comment on ‘what a cool visual effect’ that was, then you haven’t adequately done your job. This applies to anyone involved in post production, from the editor, to the texture artists, to the rotoscopers.

I can’t vouch for Jackson’s work on the Hobbit; it was chock full of much more CG environments and characters than the Rings trilogy. While I thought there were some scenes in which they went all George Lucas with the CG, I felt overall that most techniques were demonstrated masterfully and were immersive. But that’s my opinion.

4) Cliche bad guys are absolutely comical.

My biggest complaint: Azog, the pale orc, was completely non-threatening. Sure, he was busting heads in the Moria flashback, but the rest of the film is chock full of cliche one-liners like, “Drink their blood,” and “Bring me his head.” Those farcical albino goblins.

Do you realize how many times over the world would have ended if bad guys would just shut up and kill the hero, already? It was a cheap device for scripting in a last-minute rescue, and it made our chief antagonist seem more like a gnat in your ear, evoking more of an embarrassed chuckle than a sense of dread.

All that to say, character carries a lot of weight in the story. Azog was shallow, and it showed. Sometimes, pure evil doesn’t seem as evil as a bad guy we can empathize with.

How did you feel about the film? What are your favorite examples in cinema of the filmmaking concepts above?

Hinges

Hinges usually hold a door together, allowing it to swing one way or another, but always allowing it stay in place. Hinges don’t stop a door from moving totally, but they do restrain it from moving too far. Hinges are good, when hinges work.

But sometimes, our hinges aren’t strong enough. They may restrict our doors from giving way, while other times fail to keep it secure. Perhaps our hinges are more like a haphazard mess of duct tape – meant only to bond in a temporary fashion. I am, of course, talking about the core elements of our faith.

The Christian community is known for chosing poor hinges, aren’t we? Of all the stomach-turning news articles I read, seldom are they about the core elements of our faith; rather, we muddy the waters with causes, political or not, that have no bearing on what it means to follow Christ. No wonder people are confused about us. No wonder people don’t know what our Savior died for.

The forebearers of our faith carefully dissected the most solid elements of what we should believe, choosing to be intentional and deliberate that nothing else was added to their faith, and nothing usurped it. They knew that if they lost focus and chose to put the weight of their faith on the wrong things – or too many things – their faith would be too weak – their faith might come unhinged. That’s why we have reminders like the Apostle’s Creed. It reminds us about what truly matters, while not acknowledging the things that don’t.

Now, for some specifics.

My first example: Since the 1930s and on, Christians have waged fierce battle on the Evolution front. Entire organizations have sprouted up to defend the so-called “Young Earth” movement, splitting hairs over the most minute details surrounding the creation, when in reality much of these hotly-debated details are gray area neither scripture nor science can answer. I won’t belabor this article with why this is a futile battle for both parties – that’s irrelevant. The point is that this is a weak hinge – an important discussion to have, but not something to make or break our faith. When a believer elevates this kind of issue to the level of a core foundation, then the slightest hairline crack in their theology can cause their entire faith to crumble. It wasn’t meant to be a hinge. At the same time, it does damage to the on-looker, for they become confused about what we Christians really represent.

Or take, for example, the Christmas season. You can’t go a year without a “save Christmas” campaign flaring up, or the ubiquitous fight over that dreaded politically-correct jargon “Happy Holidays.” This is yet another weak hinge. Not only are we not instructed in scripture to celebrate Christ’s birth, but Romans 14:5-9 informs us it’s okay not to celebrate any holiday whatsoever! This fight is a weak hinge, because not only is it non-essential to our faith, elevating this as a core foundation actually causes harm to the faith of others.

I could list many more examples, but once again, I won’t belabor my point. These and many other aspects of theology are indeed important, but they are not worthy of being our core beliefs. In fact, they prove harmful when we do put greater emphasis on them; they not only supplant our core faith, but they also confuse those with whom we are tasked to share the gospel. Scripture is as clear about certain things as God intends, and there is much grey area between – gray area to be discussed and treasured, but never idolized.

There is one more matter that relates to our faith hinges: unity. The church was meant to be a living, breathing organism; the very hands and feet of Christ on earth – a whole made up of many smaller parts with many different functions. Faith hinges are important to the church, because while we are called to be different parts of the Body, we’re all under the same head: Christ. “For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking but of righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.” (Romans 14:17)

What do you hinge your faith on? Have you examined your hinges lately? Are they strong and foundational, or are they non-essential and mere duct tape?

Rescuing the Word ‘Creative’

“Creative” is a word we throw around far too much. A certain subset of individuals has hijacked ‘creativity’ and made it into something that refers to a narrow type of artistic endeavors. A recent article even reported that ‘creative’ is the most overused word in resumes and cover letters. But when we limit our view of creativity, we limit what it means to be creative individuals in every ounce of our nature.

For many of us, ‘creative’ is how we define our jobs, our tastes, and even who we associate with. Usually, when we brand something as ‘creative,’ we’re actually just referring to a small slice of a much broader picture of creativity. We reserve ‘creative’ positions for right-brained hipsters, simply writing off those boring, left-brained, logistical scrooges.

But at the most basic level, creativity refers to the process of making something out of nothing.

Perhaps the most satisfying aspect of my trade is the process of turning virtually nothing into something. The process of creating a video is, for the most part, completely arbitrary and full of problem-solving and obstacles. Turning nothing but vague ideas into something that you can experience is absolutely invigorating to me. Yet aren’t there others who also do the same in more practical ways? A farmer takes nothing but seeds and soil and turns it into nutrition. An architect takes drawings and numbers and turns them into a skyscraper. A teacher takes young skulls full of pink ooze and turns them into (hopefully) rational adults. These people are creative, and the examples could be endless.

Christians believe that we’re created in God’s image. If God, who is the creator, has made us in His image, then is it far-fetched to say that everyone is meant to be creative? Perhaps that’s why our human nature is so opposite to Him: because our selfish acts break down life rather than create it. So as believers, we have an obligation to be creative.

When we take broken relationships devoid of affection and mend them, we’re creative.

Nothing into something.

When we take lives with no hope and give them purpose, we’re creative.

Nothing into something.

When we take empty stomachs and fill them with nutrition, we’re creative.

Nothing into something.

After all, Jesus is the ultimate example of creativity. He took my life – broken and empty, worth absolutely nothing – and turned it into something He’s proud of. Nothing – into something beautiful. So, let’s rescue that word from the pomade-ridden hands of hipsters everywhere and start being truly creative.

Chicken Digested: Where We Went Wrong

Yesterday, I marveled at the culmination of this whole Chick-fil-A movement (don’t get me wrong – it’s apparently far from over). As I passed by three Chick-fil-A’s on my way home, I had far more thoughts than there were people in line. What does this say about Christians? Was this what Dan Cathy wanted? And why had I been silent throughout the whole ordeal? Whatever the answer, I knew the Christian community had made a major misstep.

After digesting, if you will, the fast food matter at hand, I simply wish to offer these four honest observations and challenges to my Christian brothers and sisters.

  1. We chose an issue over a message. There’s a fundamental difference between an issue and a message. There were lots of issues in Jesus’ day. The Zealots wanted him to speak out against Roman rule. The Pharisees wanted him to condemn prostitutes in public. But Jesus chose a message rather than an issue. Rather than ‘take a stand’ against the prostitutes and drunkards, he told stories about wayward sons coming home, wedding banquets packed full with people from the street, and widows turning over houses to find a single coin. When we choose issues, we become Zealots and Pharisees; when we choose to share the message of Christ, people come home.
  2. We built up more walls. The sentiments about Christians currently harbored by the gay community were only reinforced yesterday. By ‘taking a stand’ against gay marriage, we not only built another wall; we caused our so-called ‘opponents’ to arm themselves against us. Rick Warren once said that he’s tired of Christians being known for what we’re against rather than what we’re for. I have never known someone to follow Christ because I took a stand against them. However, I have seen lots of friends open their eyes to Jesus for the first time just by a gentle conversation. Maybe it’s time you show what you’re for rather than what you’re against.
  3. We weren’t honest. This actually has nothing to do with First Amendment rights. Very few of us could admit this had anything to do with free speech. There are hundreds of instances where we could champion free speech, so why choose this one? True, the Boston and Chicago mayors did an atrocious thing when they used government to strike at Chick-fil-a. But even the gay community lashed back at them. Let’s be honest here: the subtext went far beyond the context.

    Let’s be honest about something else: we have been selective about what we think is sin and turned a blind eye to things we think are okay. What about the 500 adolescent girls trafficked for sex in Atlanta last month? The countless men struggling with pornography? And what about the heterosexual affair committed by your neighbor or even your pastor? Are these not also shameful in God’s sight?

    Martyn-Lloyd Jones once wrote a sermon about one of the Beatitudes, “Blessed are those who mourn.” He taught that what Jesus meant was far from a worldly sorrow; rather, I should mourn the sin from the deepest parts of my heart to the furthest corners of the world. When we elevate gay marriage above any other sin, we not only lose sight of our own sinful nature, but we lose sight of the beautiful plan God has to redeem and renew every single person. Maybe it’s time to be more honest about ourselves.

  4. We weren’t the Body. What would happen if we showed that same support to our local church? I read a similar question on someone’s blog, asking, “What if each person had tithed all the money they spent at Chick-fil-a on August 1st?” That’s a big What If. But considering that the average tithe is only 2% of each attendee’s income (not exactly the definition of a tithe, mind you), imagine the impact the church would have on the world if we started giving faithfully. If we started living and giving as the church did in Acts 2, the message we would send to those we call ‘opponents’ would doubtless be powerful. How much more impactful could that be than supporting a (albeit, delicious) fast food chain? Because as Jesus said, “When I am lifted up, I will draw all people to myself (John 12).” He said this about his coming death, but maybe it’s time we lift him up to show the world he died for it rather than stood against it.

Just sayin’.

You’re Better Than Steve

Or, Why Steve Jobs Isn’t the Last Hope for Innovation.
 
 

If you’re at least somewhat interested in the current millennium, then you won’t need me to tell you that Apple CEO Steve Jobs has finally thrown in the towel. While Apple fans and hipsters worldwide cried doomsday, I’m here to tell you that innovation did not die with Steve’s unfortunate, but anticipated resignation.

1) Surround Yourself

Even the most talented people need support. You can’t be completely self-sufficient, and in the context of the church, you actually need a community around you. Surround yourself with individuals who will challenge, convict, and criticize you in meaningful ways. It’s the only way to raise the bar of excellence.

2) Pay Attention to Detail

It’s no surprise that Steve Jobs pays close attention to detail. While many leaders delegate seemingly ‘tedious’ duties, a great innovator still places strong emphasis on the little things. Please differentiate this from being nitpicky. A bean counter is caught up in the minutia, not the details. Innovators can be empowering, but still stay involved in the entire creative process.

3) Raise Up a Legacy

Apple is by no means in trouble. While Steve is phasing himself out, there is a whole team of leaders who will take the company to newer heights. Jesus even admitted that His disciples would do greater things after He was gone. Be conscientious of the generation behind you by not only leaving your legacy, but encouraging them to build a better one.

Be at peace, O mourning hipsters. Innovation is not dead.

That Accident Was No Accident

I’ve noticed that media professionals tend to have two big character traits affecting our time management skills: an overwhelming flurry of ADD, and a relentless focus on what’s ahead. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing; however, there are plenty of times when looking ahead causes us to miss the opportunities before us.

Today I was rushing off to pick up some equipment for a shoot. As I waited in traffic…

BOOM.
Rear-ended.

From the vehicle emerged a young guy, very penant, and very worried about the pending insurance nightmare. I got out, looked at our cars, and everything was surprisingly unscathed. I made sure the young man was okay, grabbed his name (Chris) and a handshake for the sake of friendliness, and eagerly resumed my harried flight.

5 seconds later, the Holy Spirit laid into me. That accident was no accident. God brought me and Chris together at that moment for a reason: so Chris would know that Christ has a purpose for him and is eager to step into his life.

Heartbroken and torn, I confessed that my obedience – no – my ability to hear God speak – was hindered by looking too far ahead rather than what was directly in front of me.

It’s funny, isn’t it? We often consider ‘looking ahead’ to be a prized virtue. But sometimes, our frenzied nature causes us to miss encounters with God – a God who dwells in our accidents.

 

Describe a time when you missed an encounter with God because you were too concerned with the future.

It’s All About the People

A very insightful colleague on my volunteer team recently gave me a book a friend of his wrote about church tech directors. On the inside cover, he wrote a personal, short, but heavy admonition: “It’s all about the people.”

I sat back and looked at my goals list. It was a large, lengthy list of goals that were all of a technical nature – new initiatives, maintenance, creative aspirations. But very few had to do with people.

Ouch!

Granted, working in a technical and creative ministry capacity, we understand, often in a distant sense, that what we’re doing affects people. But it’s so easy to be troglodytes in our little caves – to get caught up in the process and the models – that we lose sight of relationships. Sometimes we never see the fruits of our labor, and we deal behind-the-scenes so much that we’re often physically (and consciously) separated from the people we minister to. But I have to ask the question – if I’m not caring for people, what in the world am I doing in ministry?

Isn’t it a shame when we reduce ourselves to a mere technical (or a creative) support service, that we lose sight of the fact that we’re actually ministers, meant to build relationships?

It’s so easy for entire churches to get wrapped up in that. The business-like structure that defines church staffing often confines us to an environment that hinders, not builds, community. Unfortunately, volunteers often see the worst of this. That’s because a lot of departments see them as simply extra sets of hands. I’m trying to make it very clear from the start that my role is not as a leader, but as a servant. My job on a staff is not to manage them, but to empower them. Volunteers are the true ministers, and it’s my job to support them in that.

 

This year, with a new set of goals on the white board, I’m taking steps to live that out. I’ve committed to three priorities:

1. Empower my volunteers to take more ownership.
I’m beginning this long, arduous process by allowing my team members to ‘dream’ a little bit – to submit an idea or a change they would like to see happen in our ministry – and to act on as many of those ideas as I can (and positively acknowledge the ones are not possible). This empowerment will stem into several other priorities as well.

2. Pray for a different volunteer each day.
If prayer is the frontline of ministry, why am I not doing more of that? To live that out, I’ve started asking a different volunteer every day how I can prayer for them specifically.

3. Get to know more of the congregation individually.
How do I ‘know’ my audience if I don’t really know them? While I can sit here and acknowledge my ability to communicate visually, I’m a fool to believe I can do that effectively by gauging a mere demographic. So how do I get to know them if I’m busy during worship? Share meals, help someone with yard work, volunteer with a different group of folks. Anything I can do to counteract ‘business’ with community.

Discussion time: what are some of the ways that you are making it ‘all about the people’?

Designing for Two Different Services

Doubtless, many of my church production counterparts are serving a congregation similar to mine: one with that touchy, fragile, traditional-contemporary divide. And doubtless, you and I are facing the same questions.

I’d like to encourage you with this: it shouldn’t be a battle. Such a divide shouldn’t be seen as a chasm of “old vs. new.” Rather, as I’m discovering, we need to treat these two distinct styles as two wholly equal forms of reaching two wholly different cultures.

If you’re tasked with providing creative content for such a congregation, I encourage you to see the blessings in this. While such a split may introduce a whole slew of disastrous disunity problems in your congregation, I promise you there are ways of approaching your church’s media needs without unhealthy compromise. In fact, it may be rewarding as you are challenged and stretched in new ways, as I have been.

Coming from a solely progressive church background, here’s how I’m approaching the divide:

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1) Consider the fundamentals of art.

The box we’ve packed ourselves into in the progressive scene is to rely solely on motion backgrounds and thematic short-plays to support the worship sets. Or worse, settling for static pictures that overtly represent the subject matter (nothing says worship like a sparkling Jesus, right?). For many of us, keying text over live video isn’t even an alternative, whether that’s because of technical or philosophical limitations.

We have to start looking at the fundamentals again: color, light, texture, depth, etc. A static image still needs purpose. Use light and texture to create a context for the song. Employ color to enhance the mood. Pay attention to transitions in the music and how you can support that visually. Subtlety can sometimes speak louder than any overt imagery ever could.

2) Evaluate the real issue.

The temptation is to shy away from using visuals just because they’re poorly received at first. But I’m confident the issue is not simply the use of creative content, but the manner in which they’re used.

A few months ago, a gentleman in the church gave a two-part presentation on our sanctuary’s stained-glass windows. His whole point was how these visuals weren’t there merely as eye candy, but to tell a story; to remind us; to engage us; to evoke some feeling in us we couldn’t get through the spoken word.

Chances are, if we’re using artwork just to fill empty space, we’re not really doing our jobs as visual communicators. Despite differences of tastes, the ‘lean-forward moments’ in the sermon and worship set still exist and must be supported.

3) Traditional doesn’t mean tasteless.

We tend to corner our creativity into either ‘trendy’ or ‘cheesy’ – generalizations I’m all too familiar with. I’ve come to realize that tastefulness does not have to sacrificed at the hands of ‘traditional.’ If I’m honest, I recognize that I’m only a narrow communicator when I appeal to one crowd. My job should be to engage all participants, not just the ones I naturally connect with.

Traditional does not equate with ‘out-dated.’ As such, it takes some guts to see that design embodying ‘Reverence’ does not have to die at the hands of ‘Modern’ – and as designers, we must learn how to translate that reverence without compromising our creative edge and tastefulness.

4) There is no happy medium.

I’d wager an initial response from most creatives would be to find a happy medium. Sure, managing two service types can possibly double our workload, but we need to weigh the benefit. If I look for the happy medium every time, everyone loses – the congregation, leadership, me. If I go to the extreme every time… well, I burn out and then everyone loses anyway.

So here’s my admonition #1: Be prepared to go the extra mile. Be careful trying to kill two birds with one stone, because you end up with generic and meaningless design. The music and environment speak to people differently for a reason – and the visuals are no different. Create two separate sets of splash screens, backgrounds, and bumpers if time allows.

Here’s admonition #2: Be prepared to compromise from time to time. If you’re in charge of video production, this means you can’t pick favorites. You might be sacrificing the Abrams-style handy-cam feel or the indie-filmmaker cutaways because – quite frankly, as I have discovered – it really confuses the older folks (spoken with tender love and care!). Two versions of a video just isn’t a possibility with most churches’ staffing scenarios and your deadlines.

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There are, of course, about twelve dozen other points to consider when it comes to producing content for two service styles. However, the four I touched on above were meant as encouragement from one troubled creative to another.

But, of course, every congregation is different. What are your considerations for designing for both traditional and contemporary?

Refining a project’s vision

Preproduction – the often overlooked and seemingly arbitrary stage of preparation for the production process. I’m currently in such a phase, as I prepare for a series of promotionals for Roswell UMC’s Global Impact Celebration.

And while I have been trudging my way through the tedious process of hammering out the details on target audience, story spine, call-to-action, and artistic direction, I remind myself that I’ve stumbled my way around enough productions to know that skimping here leads to wasted time later.

But it really goes beyond preparation. To put it plainly – it’s where the vision is refined. This should resound for all people involved in any sort of ministry-driven activity; your vision is paramount.

For many of us creative folks, we like to breeze past this stage. We can’t wait to get our hands dirty with lights, lenses, and the edit bay. But when we don’t have a clear idea of the ‘Why,’ the process of ‘How’ gets really, really messy. And sometimes, it’s flat-out disaster; we clamor our way around until we end up with a flashy – but hollow – message.

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Below are just a few key areas I identify and refine to keep my production’s vision clear, simple, and effective:

1) Identify your focus
What are you trying to get across? “Less is more” definitely applies here. You can create something extremely engaging (as you should), but the way you convey and present that message can make or break it. For example, “Extend opportunities for local missions,” or, “Promote the _______ campaign during June.” You’ll be surprised what simplicity can do.

2) Identify your target audience
Be very, very specific. Is your message intended for families with children? Twenty-somethings? Those with struggling marriages? Identifying this allows you to hone in on the folks who need to hear what you’ve got the most, rather than wasting something shallow and generic on everyone. Pick no more than two targets, and prioritize them.

3) Identify your strategy
How will you connect the focus and target? For instance, if my focus is on “promoting local service opportunities,” and I’m hoping to reach “families with small children,” I’ll probably list “awareness” and “accessibility” as my primary strategy. Based on this example, I now know that I want to emphasize that it’s extremely easy to get involved, that having kids shouldn’t scare busy families away from serving, and that there are a plethora of opportunities to get involved. Overly simple, but crucial.

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I believe these three things are key before even touching story and art direction. While overly simple, refusing this step will cause either a world of chaos or complete stagnation. What is your process of developing a clear vision for your project?