My Church Gig

Titus 1:15 starts, “To the pure, all things are pure…” Yeah, but to the rest of us (artists especially) it’s a different story.  There’s a lot to be said for being wise as serpents yet innocent as doves.  (Matthew 10:16)  The thing is in our business erring on the “innocent as doves” side can really bite you later.

I started at Cornerstone as the webmaster.  When first skimming the website I discovered that the men’s sexual addiction group was named “Rock Solid.”  I couldn’t stop laughing, and mostly at the thought that I might have been the first to laugh at all.  Seriously?  Rock Solid?  Freudian slip or pure genius?   Clearly, sanctification has been a slow process for this here pilgrim; straight up.

Today was an interesting day for the media team.  I asked if I could write about three items that came through; a day in the life of the media office.  They’re funny items, sure, but I believe this is important stuff to talk about.

This rest of this post is more PG-13.  If you’re not easily offended then please read on after the jump… Read the rest of this entry »

I just got notice today that I’m into my eighth year at Cornerstone.  That means I get a boatload of PTO days to take off this year.  Actually, it’s a cruel joke.  I can’t take that many days off and they know it.  But thanks anyway.  The thought really does mean a lot.

So, I’ve been in existential wrestling matches lately with this question:  Why do I do what I do?

I work at a cool church.  I know a few who would love to work at a cool church no matter what the pay.  I’m pretty lucky.  (“Blessed” for you spiritual types – still feels lucky to me.)

When I was younger I cared about the mission above all; you could keep the money.  Now in my 40s I care whether or not my job looks anything like a career.  Career and Ministry mix like oil and water in my head.  There’s no escaping that most churches need to employ people to keep things running.  You know… working at a church is a little like swimming in oil and water; treading the paradox of temporal necessity and eternal mission.

I believe current “economic realities” (words I hear every day) are purifying churches as much as they’re hurting.  We just came through a time of relative prosperity.  We started to bulge in unsightly places but just wore some fashion with slimming vertical motion to mask it.  Now many churches in America, just like a lot of companies, are cutting more than fat; they’re cutting to the core.  Ready or not, the necessity of increased volunteerism is here.  This is tricky for a lot of churches because they’re used to a level of quality they hired to achieve.  That quality is some of what attracted a lot of people in the first place.

Cornerstone has already made cuts and we’re not immune to more.  Who knows how bad this economy thing is going to get?  It’s unwise to think my job is any more secure than any other job in the country.  I’m ok with that.

I’d like to offer this thought to all who love their church jobs.  It’s where I’ve arrived personally at the end of my existential wrestling matches.

Our greatest American freedoms are often our greatest burdens.  Possibility and opportunity bring with them a certain Kierkegaardian despair for most humans.  We are naturally convinced our inner joy hinges upon working a job we love and feel we are destined by God to do so.  We despair that we won’t find work we love then, once we do, we despair that we might lose it.  I visited garbage dumps in Thailand once where men emerge every morning from cardboard structures in freshly pressed white shirts to work any job to provide anything for their families.  I have to believe that even in situations like that, joy can abound.  May God free us from temporal despair and rebuild within us the joy of a greater sense of eternal mission.  If a world-wide economic crisis is what it takes, let it be so.

 Math teachers and English teachers are completely different.  Ever notice?  Math geeks are driven to discover preeminent facts about the universe.  English geeks love subjectivity, human convention, art, culture, and fashion.  ”2 + 2″ is what it is (and is what it was) but the spelling and pronunciation of the word Colonel is just really odd.  It’s “pocket protectors save me money spent on shirts” vs. “dude, shirt pockets aren’t for putting stuff in – there are way more stylin ways to carry tools.”

In the audio world the difference between Technician and Engineer is pretty much the same.

Technicians are left-brained geniuses who picture signal flow in their sleep, understand electronics and physics, and can troubleshoot a 60 cycle hum in no time flat.  Right-brained engineers are artists who might not be able to troubleshoot their way out of a paper bag but can turn knobs to make bands sound larger than life.  On the perfect tour the technicians set up the gear while the engineer hangs out with the band on the bus.  The engineer mixes the show then drives away with the band while the techs tear down.  Most pro bands bring their own engineers with them for fly-dates and festivals.  It’s that important.

I’m much more an engineer than a technician.  When I say “One Two, Hey Who” into a microphone to tune a monitor wedge I’ll say something like “hey Chris, bring 160 hertz down 5 dB in here.”  It sounds really technical and everyone acts really impressed.  I wish there was a less nerdy way to say “160 hertz down 5dB” because it’s a subjective, artistic call; not a technical correction.  What I’m saying is I think it sounds muddy around a low E and that needs to come down a touch for things to sound balanced.  Everything that can be described as boxy, thuddy, muddy, nasally, hollow, piercing, essy or shimmering has a number; a frequency that sounds to an engineer like art, not science.

Most churches don’t have a mega-pool of talent to go fish in or the budget to hire a good engineer.  Ironically, the wires, knobs, blinking lights, and the really-really-important-but-not-in-front-of-people position attract all sorts of technical types – and a few who lack important people skills.  This can be frustrating for band members and worship leaders because they, on the other hand, are artists.  This disappointment, tension, and conflict are far too common in churches.

I want to throw two things out there today:

If you’re a good musician with a gift for hearing the whole band at once, consider becoming an audio engineer.

I’m not talking about musicians who aren’t cutting it on stage and need something to do.  I mean good musicians who love music as a whole, not just their instrument.  You might just be the best candidate for sound engineer at your church or in your ministry.  It’s a less glamorous job but more important than any other when the band starts playing.  At the end of the day the quality of bass or guitar playing means squat if the mix is off.  Pray about it and be humble enough to give it a shot.  I fell in love with it.  You might too.

If you’re a worship leader and you don’t trust your engineer, step up your game.

I’ve seen a few jazz and blues acts at small clubs where the sound was phenomenal without a sound system or with a small portable system and no engineer.  Seasoned players balance with each other and play with great style.  I know from experience that when a band sounds great the mix mixes itself.  Don’t blame your engineer or technician for your band’s poor performance or lack of ability to blend clearly on stage.  In rooms that seat less than a few hundred it’s entirely possible to achieve great sound with little more than vocals in the mains.  Strive to be that good.

And please, be nice to the pocket protector behind the console.

If you go to Cornerstone you might be interested in our recent adventure with Steve’s podium mic.  Last Saturday and on the previous weekend he wasn’t as easy to hear as usual.  We moved his mic to the back side of his notes stand which left the mic a few inches further away.  (Top pic … it used to live there before.)  His level dropped into the 50s and low 60s in decibels.  Two things happened: 

1. People noticed the difference.
2. The congregation was not as responsive as usual.

It was a somber message in a subdued tone but our congregation is typically more responsive any day of the year.  On Sunday we moved it back to its optimal place (like the bottom pic … thanks Steve!) and bam, we were back in our target range; somber message heard and understood.  Doesn’t look like much of a change in those pictures.  This either shows the delicate nature of our business or my completely OCD approach to audio.

With that in mind I wanted to mention a few things about how volume levels affect congregation response and listener fatigue.  I hope this is helpful for pastors and teachers too.  I hope you guys care about this as much or more than your sound guy.

Decibel meters kind of match thermometers here in the Fahrenheit-loving United States.  Imagine standing outside in a t-shirt.  Anything over 90 is pretty hot but, hey, some like it hot.  The 80s is warm; fun summer weather for all ages.  The 70s is pretty comfy and the best part is you can drink coffee outside.  The upper 60s is still ok but if it dips to 60 or below, most of us begin to crave new fall fashion apparel and accessories.  New shoes couldn’t hurt either.

Normal conversation happens from the low 60s to the low 70s, kind of like an early Spring afternoon.  It’s what we’re used to.  When we listen to speech for a long while (like a 50 minute sermon) listener fatigue happens when it’s either too loud for too long or when it’s too quiet for too long.  Being too loud is rarely a problem.  The laws of physics, feedback, a reflective room and the pastor’s general performance make getting his voice in the upper 60s a real feat of engineering some days.

Here’s what happens when the pastor’s voice drops into the chilly regions of 60 and below:

• People are tired after church and they don’t know why.  It took real effort to listen.  Their brains worked long and hard, and now it’s nap time.
    
• The congregation isn’t as responsive as the pastor secretly wishes.  They can’t be.  I’ve sat in churches where people feel trapped, unable to move or flip a page in their Bible because they’ll miss something.  (No exaggeration.)
    
• Some people will check out after 20 minutes and the rest will check out after 40 minutes if the presentation of the message is not compelling.

Our target for sermon levels at Cornerstone is around 63 to 73dB A-weighted, like a friendly conversation outside Starbucks in May.  We don’t have any assisted listening packs but we don’t get asked for any either.  In fact I’ve been told by a few hard-of-hearing friends they never have a problem hearing Steve.

I got this in an email today from a kind lady who has a hearing condition:

“…I wanted to say thank you for putting so much effort into good sound.  I can always hear Steve’s word even when he speaks softly and that is important to me.  It may seem silly, but I struggle hear people’s words in so many other areas of my life that it is really nice when I can hear all the words for a change.”

Thanks Elizabeth.  You are my new favorite person.