It has been a few years now, but I was the co-producer of the series of contemporary Christian concerts in Hawaii. (By “co-producer” I mean I did a lot of grunt work including backstage security and picking up artists at the airport in a beat-up old church van with no air conditioner… in Honolulu.)
Actually, it was a lot of fun. I got to meet and interact with Steven Curtis Chapman, Rebecca St. James, Jars of Clay, Stacy Orrico, MercyMe, Mark Schultz, TrueVibe, Jaci Velazquez, Jodi McBrayer, FFH, ApologetiX, plusONE, Avalon, Rachel Lampa, Joy Williams, Nikki Leonti, 4Him, Mary Mary, Natalie Grant and more… I learned a lot.
I learned a lot about big event production — an invaluable education that has left me fearing no huge production — a lot about the music business, a lot about event security, and a lot about dealing with big personalities and bigger egos. For the most part the entertainers I listed, and a few I chose not to list, were just plain old down to earth people. Some of them were extremely nice and others were like a three-day root canal. I could tell you stories about divas skipping sound checks, crazy expectations on contact riders, minor acts who thought they were mega-stars, and some of the kindest, nicest, most caring musicians I have ever met.
Much like a server in a restaurant refilling a diner’s beverage, I became invisible to those riding in the van after the first day. I heard one half of a lot of telephone conversations. I listened as new contracts were negotiated, record deals were finalized, long-distance romances blossomed, and troubled marriages fell apart. I have never been one to be star-struck but that experience left me even less so. When the curtain is dropped and the spotlight dims performers — even the best and most famous — are just people dealing with life, like the rest of us.
We all tend to idealize celebrities and people in the public eye. We somehow imagine that their lives are different, better, than ours. It’s not true. We love to put people on pedestals and indulge in a bit of hero worship. We do it with singers, athletes and well-known religious leaders. Why are we always surprised — shocked, even — to discover that our heroes are merely humans?
The stress of living life in the public eye often compounds and amplifies the kind of problems “regular people” experience. If you think it’s difficult to deal with a rebellious teenager, a struggle with addiction, or a marriage reaching the point of no repair, try to imagine dealing with those things in the glare of the spotlight with the whole world watching.
We (the church) desperately need to become a place of grace where people can safely fall when they stumble… where leaders can become transparent and not be expected to fake it until they make it… where mercy triumphs over judgment.