Thoughts » Sean Durham

Christianizing Creativity (A ‘Reluctant Brilliance’ Response)

Jun 212011

Brian asked for my thoughts on affixing the title “Christian” to a product, service, artist or work of art. As in, being a “Christian band” or a “Christian company.” I’ve certainly got my opinions, but I’ll let smarter people discuss the theological implications of the whole idea – what I’m most afraid of are the motives behind the labeling and the potential for greatness we’re squandering as a result.

1) Profit – . The American Christian church is a strange, beautiful, messy, rich and sometimes terrifying group of people who are incredibly good at homogeny and continuing their (our) way of life (be it financially, spiritually or socially.) And, I understand how tempting it is to jump in and swim with its strong, profitable currents. The truth is – you can make a lot of money in the Christian industry. There is a real, predictable market available and ready to embrace almost anything with marginal substance so long as it’s identified as “Christian.” But, this is why lots of Christian music is passionless and redundant. This is why most Christian movies are awful. This is why a Christian company struggles with greed. In any other realm, your genre is not your credential. The product being sold must also have merit, be valuable. You don’t buy an iPod because it’s an “MP3 Player” – you buy it because it’s the best. It’s a risky thing to trade identity for income.

2) Protection – My parents were good parents and they were deeply (to my adolescent frustration) involved in the music I was listening to. If you were to scour the 10 freeway roadside, you’d probably find small bits of my Gin n’ Juice cassette tape which was thrown from my mom’s speeding Honda when she realized just how articulate Snoop Dogg could be. They’d read the lyrics inside every CD I brought home, scanning for expletives or lewd references, my Mom’s eagle eyes could find a spelling mistake in the New Yorker. To avoid these inspections, I learned to just buy CD’s from the local Christian bookstore. Sure, it cost roughly twice as much (see point #1) but my parents trusted the endorsement of “Christian” bookstore and they didn’t need to harass me about my purchase.

So, some protection is good. But the cost of protection is a diminishment of progress; you can’t wear armor and run quickly. When the Christian market is so consumed by protecting its fundamentalism, creativity is stalled. I think there’s unlimited potential for greatness in being strong, talented, creative, fearless, loving, agents of creation. And I believe we do more to usher in the Kingdom of God by participating in that creation than we do in burying our talents in the sand, making sure it stays put and stays the same.

So, do I think there’s a problem with the “Christian” genre? I’m not sure. While I don’t think it’s a leading cause of atheism – it might be a leading cause of atheists making fun of us.

We’re Free, Remember?

God, Healing, life, Thoughts 1 Response »

Nov 262010

If I’ve learned one thing about humanity, it is that we are a chronically forgetful people. Not the “where’s the car keys?” kind of forgetting, but of a more devastating brand. A kind of historical-spiritual revisionism shows up in my daily life as I reflect upon the past and attribute the true, and absolute providence of God to my own ambition.

If I’m honest, I spend most of my life believing that it’s up to me. That it’s my job and it’s my future wife and it’s my friendships and it’s my weaknesses and it’s my life. So, it’s not that I simply forget about God – it’s that time, distance, and a liberal helping of my own pride steal the authorship of my story. So, maybe the word “remember” shows up in the bible over and over because God is infinitely attuned to our finiteness.

The Bible is literally full of historical accounts of God doing amazing things through regular people, them forgetting about it and God pouring grace into their doubt as a way to say “Remember that time I completely changed your life?”

Today, I’m reminded of this offer, this gift of freedom composed of sacrifice and soaked in hope. The offer is this – “Believe in who I am, remember who you are and stop being afraid.”

The truth is, freedom is terrifying

If we’re doing it alone.

But,

We’re led out of Egypt, remember?
We’re reborn, remember?
We’re free, remember?

The Most Important Day of the Week

life, Thoughts 4 Responses »

Nov 222010

If I was a pastor, I’d have a message called “The Most Important Day of the Week.” And I’d poll the audience (or people I knew would give the answer I expect) and I’d ask, curiously, “What’s the most important day of the week?” I’d cup my ear with my hand, making a grand gesture of it.

“Sunday!” Some would shout – and I’d partially affirm them – “Sunday. Maybe.”

“Friday” – a college kid might say, and I’d give him the same consolation.

Maybe the right answer is Sunday or Saturday, or whichever day you observe the Sabbath. There is so much rest and healing to be done on those days.

But, I think it’s Monday. I think we’re commanded to keep a Sabbath rest not to recoup a heavy week, but because God knows a heavier week is on the way. If the weekend is for sharpening our swords, Monday is battle. Sundays are for dreaming, Mondays are for doing. Our stories are designed on the weekend but we start to draw them on Monday.

So, it’s no surprise that it’s here where we find the most resistance to our stories. If you’re anything like me, you dream of all the ways that you’ll make the next week better than the one before it. More than just “getting the job done” I become some kind of superhero over the weekend, envisioning a Monday morning full of correctly-made decisions and sore palms from all of the hi-fiving.

But the phone rings more on Mondays and leaves little time to wade through the archives of weekend emails or the residual excitement (and distraction) of students still carbonated from two days off. Statistically speaking, more coffee is spilled on shirts on Mondays (made that right up). Indeed, a cursory glance at your Facebook feed will show a corporate disdain for the day, but Mondays are where life is lived, whether we like it or not.

The truth is, who we are right now, is who we are. We are not our dreams or our plans or our best (or thankfully, our worst) intentions. We are what we do; the people we’ll become depend on our actions, not our anticipations.

Here’s to Mondays.

Note: most of my Mondays are still dreadful- I’m just working on not dreading them as much.

All That Life

God, life, Thoughts 5 Responses »

Nov 202010

I want to be a strong man. I want a wife and a family and I want to love them well. I want a life marked by sacrifice and simplicity. I want to be a man who returns calls and leaves his door unlocked. I want to take my family for breakfast after church.

I want a house that smells like coffee and food and warmth and I want it always full of people. I want to live in community with my friends and their families; we’ll raise each other’s kids, paying special attention to our own. I want to keep tradition; nutcrackers at Christmas. I want to drink champagne with my wife on New Year’s Eve and play football the morning after. I want an old car that I drive on Sundays and I want kids who know who they are.

I want to work hard and do well. I want to communicate and build relationships and I want to buy the first round. I want to laugh honestly and breathe easy and I want to be an agent of hope. I want to live in love and let the world know why.

And I want God’s feet to mark the center, his proud arms holding the weight of all that life.

I guess that’s what I want when I grow up.

Giving Yourself Permission

learning, life, Thoughts 2 Responses »

Nov 172010

I wrote last night about the Myers-Briggs personality test, and my (and seemingly all of my blogging friends) results –ENFJ. Which means our test answers expressed us as: Extroverts, iNtuitive, Feeling, Judging. To be fair to the true J’s out there, I’m only slightly “Judging” – which, my research leads me to believe means that I’m a big fan of organization and order but not always an active participant. I can buy that.

So, it’s fun to Google your four-letter designation. It’s fun to see that a slew of famous people would have answered in kind. And it’s good to see that my Biblical hero, David took time out of his busy day as King to take himself a Myers-Briggs test. I’m proud to have been sewn of similar fabric.

But, after reading all things Myers-Briggs, I’m left with another question.

What now?

What do we do now that we know we aren’t alone? That now, we might have some explanation for our past failings and idiosyncrasies. Because those things are nice to know; I believe it’s important to know that there’s others out there wired just like you. But that’s only part of our development; it’s only halfway through the journey. Effectively, that brings us to… now. And, now is pretty important.

I’ve found profound value in the Myers-Briggs system, but by no means do I believe it’s an exhaustive inventory of our inclinations or unalterable itinerary of our futures. I think its greatest significance lies in being a resource for giving us an unbiased (and, sometimes uncanny) look into our moving parts.

To be sure, there’s healing found in looking into the past, but you can’t drive forward while looking in the rear-view mirror. Knowing that I’m an ENFJ who struggles with taking things personally loosens up some of the strings of guilt I’d tied to so many situations but, I drive a Subaru, not a DeLorean, so I can hope that others have forgiven me, but I’m powerless to change what’s happened.

So, what now? What do we do with this insight?

A friend once told me that “giving himself permission to be the guy who starts things” was one of best realizations of his life. He’d punished himself for years because he chose a less-than-glamorous profession and couldn’t understand why he struggled so much to finish projects. It poisoned his position; he couldn’t find contentment. So, in finding this kind of psychological community, he ultimately found self-respect in recognizing his role as “the guy who starts things” and responsibility to be exactly that.

I’m working on having that posture as well. I’m a starter, I’m an encourager. I’m a doer, but I get bored easily. I hate details and I struggle with routine.

And, that’s okay. No, it’s better than okay, it’s perfect, because that’s who I’ve been designed to be. I know I’ve frustrated people because I don’t live in the details, and I’m not much of a planner – but, oh, let me tell you about my ideas. I want to come to accept that my inspiration is front-loaded, that I’m happiest in the beginning of projects and it takes true and forced effort to finish them. I’m working towards being proud of that. Of course, stuff needs doing, and I’m working towards that as well, but it’s important to unload the burden of living someone else’s life.

So, what now?

Now, we give ourselves permission to be who we are.

Remember us talking about Risk?

jobs, Thoughts, Writing 5 Responses »

Nov 122010

I’ve written about risk before, but mostly rhetorically, philosophically, rarely literally.

Today, I put my money where my fingers are.

I’ve learned more than I’d thought I was capable of learning. I’ve grown as a leader and as a man and I’m proud of my work.

You can’t really ask more from a job. Today, I’m a thankful man.

Blogging Vs. Writing

Thoughts, Writing 4 Responses »

Nov 092010

This month has been great so far, I realize we’re only 8 (now, 9) days into it, but its become one of the better/harder/necessary parts of my day. I love posting every day because it makes me write everyday. I know that work and obligations and school have a way of looting your creativity if you don’t elbow your way into it and create some space for your passions. Blogging everyday helps me with that, but truthfully, I’m only about 75% satisfied each time I hit “publish”.

Coming up with words on a deadline is a beautiful discipline, but sometimes they’re not beautiful at all, they come as twigs, and it takes a few days to shape them into trees. Don Miller makes a similar statement here – obviously, he’s a best-selling author with the freedom to quit blogging, but even he expresses some concern,

And in a way, the idea terrifies me, because the old adage “publish or perish” is true, and in an age where people aren’t reading books, the adage might as well be “blog or perish”

For the most part, I love blogging because I love writing, but more than writing, I love connecting. I read Anne Lamott or Michael Perry or Don Miller and I don’t know if I’ll ever have words as good as theirs.

But then, I wonder if it’s because I’ve spent too much time blogging.

I’m good with words and I can fake a sentence. A paragraph requires something of commitment and planning (two brilliant virtues I struggle with). I can’t write this without considering the following questions:

Does blogging encourage brevity? -

Does blogging discourage the long story of commitment? (to a larger work, screenplay, book)

Would our words be better if we saved them and let them mature?

Is blogging a legitimate art?

That said, I”m not going to stop posting.

Is blogging the same as writing?

Offering Our Truest (Virtual) Selves

Thoughts, Writing 7 Responses »

Nov 032010

We’re designed with a genuine program of loneliness. I’d argue that it’s because we’re designed for community –we’re designed by a communal God, born as one person with a deep spiritual inclination that echoes through our lives, calling for the shared experience.

So, I love the idea of social media. I love creative connection. I love Twitter, and I’m in a domestic-abuse relationship with Facebook. Admittedly, I’m some kind of reluctant extrovert. I recognize my need for community, but am fiercely protective of my need to be alone. For someone like me, social media offers the best (and most dangerous) of both worlds. I can compose my symphony, and deliver it on my terms in concert with a predetermined, preselected set of followers, friends and connections. I’m in (almost) complete control of my virtual existence.

But real life isn’t that way. Anyone who knows me knows that I’m at least 89% less witty and my words are 100% less careful. There’s a lot of “ummmm’s “and there’s a lot of self. I’m not saying that that’s the way it should be, but that’s the way it is.

So, it’s both powerful and terrifying that our generation has the ability (like literally none before it) to display ourselves by way of a 3^rd party reality. We stand on the shoulders of virtual giants and have more power and proliferation than ever.

There’s a hundred blogs out there (I’ve probably written at least two) criticizing the “Myspace mirror shot” approach to our virtual identity. True, social media allows us to dream, draw and display the best angles of our lives. We can blur our blemishes and construct some kind of believable humility. We know that’s possible, but that horse is tired. I believe we’re a generation aching for transparency, and we have more opportunity to show it than any other.

I think the question should be less about “how do I look?” and more “does this look like me?”

In the context of our power, position, and resultant responsibility, how do we offer our truest selves?

We Must First Be Moved

God, life is epic, Thoughts 2 Responses »

Sep 132010

Hopefully by now we understand that all is not relative, and that truth, the same truth, matters to everyone. As we sort through the rubble of the crumbled buildings of post-modernism (where we took shelter for too long) and try to reclaim some semblance of identity, we find a few nagging motives still alive, crawling to the surface through the fallen concrete.

Even though we thought the story was about something else, What remains are the characters in the stories we’re telling. Maybe now they’re petrified in their inaction – stalled, sad and motionless, but alive they remain. The stories we’re telling, they aren’t subjective anymore but they are uniquely ours. They’re sweating and real and penned into existence by an Author who gave His characters life, opportunity, reward, a clear outline of the plotline, millions of beautiful examples and the creative freedom to write a powerfully good story. He’s handed the pen to us, and said “Go.”

But, the stories are long and rife with the stuff of decisions. There’s equal parts hope and trust and danger and shame and they all end with the same bold period whether it’s punctuating a few sad words or a grand epic.

There’s a profound gravity to opportunity and most of us find some shelter, some comfort in motionlessness. I spent a long time blaming fear, but maybe it’s really because inaction yields predictable results. Go nowhere, do nothing. It’s a simple algorithm, “if not this, then not that.”

But I’m tired of the stillness and I think God is, too. I’m done with fear and I’m done with shame. We all want to be swept into a movement, and we might, but we must first be moved.

Inspiration Without Action is Escapism

life is epic, Thoughts 3 Responses »

Aug 042010

“Inspiration without action is just escapism.”

I took this line from a guy I follow on Twitter – I don’t know him, but he travels around the world and blogs about it. Seems like a pretty nice situation.

I went through a range of perspectives as I initially read the line until it finally settled itself into me. I liked it at first, then I hated it, and now I just accept it as truth. But I’m good at inspiration is the problem, – I always have been. It’s not hard for me to get carried into the deep dreams of better schools and better jobs and new lives and blank slates. “What if?” is probably my favorite record to spin.

I wrote about this awhile ago in another blog. It was some kind of heady manifesto about knowledge being useless – I even used a rock-climbing metaphor. I meant it then, and I still do – but as I’m writing my own story, I see that knowledge is actually becoming a villain. It’s true, knowledge without action is useless, but I’m starting to see that it might also be damning.

The problem with knowledge is the same problem with inspiration. Neither are inherently bad, actually, they’re inherently beautiful – but they’re beautiful because they’re designed for action. I don’t believe that we’re meant to experience the rising action of inspiration without the payout of actual change. So many times, I’ve let inspiration eclipse action.

The trouble is, we’ve taken the story and splayed the whole thing on the autopsy table and (in the name of knowledge, actually) dissected them, analyzed them, and somewhere along the line, we’ve reasoned that one can be had without the other. So then, inspiration feels something like the finish line, when really, it’s just the sign-up sheet. We’re swollen with the stuff of inspiration after meetings and midnight conversations with best friends- ready to change the world – or at least ready to change our own worlds. And then, we go home and spend the night on Facebook.

Because it’s so easy to get swept into the excitement of inspiration and think that it’s the whole of the story. But that’s a small story, a regrettable one. A shameful one, to be honest. Good stories can’t end before the climax, and they never end before the conflict.

Inspiration can change our moods, action can change our lives. Even better, it can change someone else’s. Here’s to inspiraction.

(In full disclosure, I looked up inspiraction.com and found that it was taken. There goes my dreams of being the next Tony Robbins.)

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