Boredom with God. That’s what we might be accused of nurturing.

The bottom line is, everyone is individually responsible for their personal relationship with God, but as artists, we hold a certain degree of power to either fuel desire for spiritual growth or quench it

Churches in the United States are a dime a dozen, if you’ll allow the expression without taking offense. What I mean is there is a church on every corner of every denomination imaginable, ranging from a tiny one-room country church to the urban mega-church. Having grown up as a missionary kid with a ministry in search of funds, I have visited dozens of these churches, and, in spite of the supposed variety, found most of them to be really similar in one aspect: that they were all kind of bland.

I don’t mean to be offensive. In many, the congregation was warm and welcoming, the teaching sound, the worship sincere. But my problem with them is that they were all…. nice. And, in fact, this is a problem not just for me but, I believe, for the nation. In the United States, a large percentage of the population grows up hearing the Gospel story in some form or another, even if only at Christmas and Easter, so for the majority, the Gospel is old hash. Those who are not saved aren’t terribly interested because, well, it doesn’t seem interesting. And that fault lies with us Christians for teaching in the same ways over and over, instead of seeking creative ways to present the Gospel. And for those that are saved, it is difficult to remain passionate because we grow used to it all: the Gospel, worship songs, sermons, offerings, Bible studies.

Niceness only aggravates this further, because niceness is comfortable, expected, hiding no surprises. It greets us in business buildings, college buildings, residential buildings, church buildings. See what I mean? Our churches get lumped in the pile with everything else.

Many churches all fit into a sort of mold, feeling like many doctor’s waiting rooms and hotel lobbies, with simple carpets, comfortable seating, potted plants and flower arrangements.

The truth is that ambience affects our mindset. Imagine watching a movie without the soundtrack. Nine times out of ten, it would seem ridiculous and stripped of emotion. Or imagine staying in a hotel room made of cinder blocks with bars across the windows. Instead of enjoying a pleasant holiday, we’d feel stressed and uncomfortable.

Which brings me to another more relevant example: Christian music. I’m going beyond graphic design, but staying in the general realm of design and art, in this case, music. Personally, I’m dreadfully bored by most of today’s Christian music. Again, I do not wish to judge or offend, but the fact is that most modern Christian music is very similar. I can listen to an hour or two of it and never once stop to contemplate and ask questions or to pause and feel emotion because the lyrics and sounds tend to be so close to each other from song to song. There is happiness and thankfulness and there are pretty images and an overall nice feeling. But that’s about as far as it tends to go.

Meanwhile, U2 and Metallica force me to stop and carefully listen to and ponder many of their songs. Neither band would be labeled “Christian” and yet they tend to delve deeper into the human condition than many Christian musicians do. How so? They dare to ask difficult questions and address tough issues, to express their doubts and their true emotions, while still experimenting with sounds and not seeking to fit into an expected mold.

The Psalmists did something similar. Their writings are full of distress, fear, anger, hope, desperation, bliss, joy, peace, grief, questioning. The psalmists did not feign constant happiness nor did they try to make anyone comfortable. They were honest. They didn’t write for fame or to please anyone. They were simply seeking truth.

And in so doing, they experienced God in a fuller, deeper, more fulfilling way than anyone who decides to remain on the nice, comfortable level.

And there lies the challenge for the artist and designer within the church. Our calling is to inspire an atmosphere of honesty with God and with the rest of Christ’s body, which requires a major change on our mindset when we enter the church building, which, in turn, is near to impossible when the ambience is the same as that of a principal’s office or a living room.

Our task is to create an ambience that incites pondering and contemplation, that takes people away from what they see in their everyday earthly tasks and into a place of worship, prayer, questions and learning that may be uncomfortable and even painful at times. That may look like writing songs honestly from the depths of our hearts, rather than outlining them according to the expectation of what Christian music should be. Or it may look like revealing the agony behind our salvation, as Mel Gibson did in The Passion. His film is horrible and gruesome and difficult to watch and, therefore, beautiful and conducive to true contemplation because it reminds us of the value of our salvation. It reminds us not to get used to the Gospel but to remember just how amazing it actually is.

What about the church building?

One of the few churches I’ve visited that really struck a note with me in terms of ambience was one in Kentucky. Its walls served as an art gallery that changed collections according to themes. I’m not referring to the cookie-cutter banners we tend to see that read “Jesus is the Reason for the Season” or “He is Risen,” but rather to beautiful paintings, sculptures, installation art, films, and so on. And not all of it was sunny landscapes or serene still lifes, though those have their place as well, of course.

How is this effective? Would it not simply adjust one’s mindset to that of viewing an art show? It could, but if done right, which it was, being designed to incite questions and wondering and emotion, it encouraged people to allow for honesty. To view the world in a different way than they would while driving to work or sitting in Starbucks.

The change in art collections also programmed the congregation to arrive to church expectant, eager to experience something new, to notice details as well as the larger picture, to feel as well as see, to connect God to artistry and emotion, as he is the master of both, and therefore to connect with God themselves.

There are countless ways to develop an atmosphere that will inspire sincerity and deep thought, and it is up to the creative people of this world to discover and implement them in the church, whether within the physical confines of the church building or in media or really in any Christian-based endeavour. Our calling as artists and designers is to remind people that what we have is not mundane and certainly not boring. We must do our part to keep the church from growing comfortable or accustomed to God or a relationship with him; to keep it from growing satisfied but rather to increase its hunger for the LORD; “To become...professional imaginator[s] in order to help [the] handicapped, unimaginative neighbor… to give voice, eyes, ears, and tactile sense to those who are underdeveloped toward such rich nuances of meaning in God’s creation” (Calvin Seerveld).

In short, our job is to kill niceness and incite honesty, a search for truth and awe. Is that too much to ask? I believe not. After all, through art, we are only expressing what God has already created and done; what he has revealed to us. We are only channels for his glory. We simply have to risk a little discomfort to make sure his glory flows unblocked through us.