Training lighting team member at Prestonwood Baptist Church.
Lighting design is one of the most subjective crafts we use in church production, and people (trained and untrained) have very strong opinions about it. Also, even when done well, lighting has the potential for a dramatically distracting impact on a church service if it doesn’t appropriately fit the mood, style, or preferences of a congregation. Therefore, training volunteers in lighting design and programming stands as one of the most challenging and critical tasks for churches.
Often, the things I understand best are the hardest to teach.
As a lighting designer myself, this has been the most challenging position for me to give away to volunteers. Often, the things I understand best are the hardest to teach. Why? Because it is so ingrained in me, and the decisions come so intuitively, I can’t imagine how to put all of this knowledge into someone else. So let’s take a look at three mistakes I had to overcome to make my volunteers successful in lighting design and execution.
Photo courtesy of Prestonwood Baptist Church.
Mistake #1: Explaining too much
In my mind, the lighting volunteer needed to know everything that I knew about lighting. DMX signal flow and distribution, how the moving lights worked, how to repair them, theories behind the placement of each lighting fixture, patching, building cues, generating effects, timecode synchronization, macros, and how to over/under a cable (ok, I stand by that last one). It’s incredibly overwhelming. If that’s my standard for a lighting volunteer, then how many candidates truly exist in my congregation?
Trying to teach decades of experience in a two-hour training session sets everyone up to fail.
Photo courtesy of Prestonwood Baptist Church.
At the time of this existential crisis in my life, I was the one programming the lights for the services. I finally had to sit down and ask myself, “What do I really need a lighting volunteer to be able to do on a Sunday morning?” The answer? Hit “Go” at the correct moment, and maybe modify an existing cue occasionally. Trying to teach basic operation is not rocket science and is less stressful than trying to cram decades of experience into a two-hour training session. I think about it in levels:
1] Level 1 Lighting Operator
- What are the core elements of lighting that a volunteer needs to know in order to have a high comfort level sitting at the lighting console?
- Since I program the cues in advance, what basic console operations do they need to perform?
2] Level 2 Lighting Programmer
- What lighting design concepts and console skills need to be expanded upon to empower the lighting volunteer to program a basic (typical) service?
3] Level 3 Lighting Designer/Programmer
- What lighting design concepts and console skills need to be expanded upon to empower the lighting volunteer to program a more complex service or event (like Christmas)?
- How can I train the volunteer to operate an event “on-the-fly?”
When I break it down in this manner, I have created achievable chunks of information that don’t overwhelm the volunteer (or me) from the outset of training. Two things I love about this format: it gives ambitious volunteers a pathway for growth, and it gives permission for other volunteers to stay at any given level without feeling like they haven’t achieved what you need from them. I have also now clearly defined what I can expect out of a volunteer based on his or her level of training.
The goal isn’t just to train button-pushers—it’s to equip ministry partners.
Mistake #2: Not explaining enough
Now, I alluded to this problem in my breakdown of the various levels, but we must not move so far to simplicity that the volunteers don’t understand what they are doing or why they are doing it. I have never been a fan of simply telling a volunteer to “hit this button when I tell you to.” It is important for them to have at least a basic understanding of the system and the process.
A cursory comprehension of how the signal gets from the “Go” button to the lighting fixture will give the operator some insight into the operation of the system. We want to take away as much of the mystery of the technology in order to instill confidence. I like to use simple diagrams of our system so they understand how DMX gets from point A to point B.
Similarly, I want to provide some basic design theory so they understand why we light the room in any particular way. Most importantly, we teach terminology like key light, back light, side light, etc. Once they understand the basic building blocks, we can communicate more easily and set the groundwork for deeper training in the future.
Mistake #3: Giving free rein
Even with some decent training, I don’t want to turn a volunteer loose on the lighting rig to program whatever he or she wants. So, once I have a volunteer who is ready to move up a level and start programming, how do I ensure they don’t make horrible choices? At this point, I need to provide some design and programming boundaries. Within these parameters, the volunteer can have the freedom to try different ideas and designs, but we want to set them up for success.
An old-school approach to this is generating “magic sheets.” Magic sheets are simply graphically illustrated documents showing information about the lighting rig and how the console controls it. Information on these sheets can include fixture numbers, console group info, stage plots, or anything else that is helpful to have at your fingertips when programming. These cheat sheets help provide some confidence in the volunteer, having a better mental picture of what all he or she is controlling.
Ephesians 4:12 says we, as church leaders, are responsible to “equip God’s people to do his work.” Technology is as much a part of this edict as anything else we do in the church.
In addition to magic sheets, any modern console is going to have a variety of palettes, groups, or other manufacturer-specific tools for organizing the design information. I like to provide pre-approved presets that can be combined into cues. For example, I might create a “Song” preset that allows the programmer to set up the entire lighting rig in an appropriate look for any song. This ensures that key light, back light, etc., are at proper intensities. Then, the volunteer can use the color presets I have made to create variations of that “Song” look. I’m partial to creating verse and chorus color presets for each color palette. If I have an amber and blue palette, I’ll create a “Verse” preset where it’s mostly blue and a little bit of amber, then a “Chorus” preset that swaps them so the chorus feels bigger and brighter.
Think of these programming techniques as training wheels. It allows the volunteer to play within a defined sandbox while learning good design concepts, and it keeps them from hurting anybody (metaphorically).
Ephesians 4:12 says we, as church leaders, are responsible to “equip God’s people to do his work.” Technology is as much a part of this edict as anything else we do in the church. Our calling requires us to put some work into imparting our well-earned and sometimes decades-old knowledge to the congregants who feel called to serve in our ministry. It won’t be perfect. And, yes, I could probably do it better. But if I put in the effort, I can at least guarantee the worship and teaching experience will still be enhanced by the beautiful craft of lighting. And there’s always the possibility that I am inspiring a new generation of church lighting designers.
