A large part of my work as a theologian is research.
A large part of my work as a singer-songwriter is research.
Research is what I'm often doing between delivering lectures, recording albums, and writing. This is a quiet, hidden work. The work done alone, self-driven, and time-consuming.
Whether it is researching for a theological article, a sermon, an upcoming course I'll be teaching, a song I'm composing, a Bible study being crafted; the research is like the underside of the iceberg. Unseen, yet the majority of the bulk of work.
For example, I recently taught an online course for Zeteo School called, "How To Read The Bible". A single class from this course, lasting just over an hour, was based on over 450 hours of research. (It's a good thing exegetical and theological research work are as enjoyable and engaging as they are!) I had a student ask why it takes so long for the courses I teach at Zeteo School to be released, and this is one of the main reasons. Doing something well often takes time. And doing theology and biblical exegesis poorly is harmful malpractice.
I know there will be those out there who personally understand this "hidden work" aspect to creating things. How others may only see the finished product, or the much-refined result, but that it was the process and journey which, although often unwitnessed, was the gargantuan task. You know well that behind the curtains lies strewn the hours of preparation, editing, groundwork, double-and-triple-checking, reading, processing, analysing, self-critiquing, drafting, digging, and delving. A piece of quality work is never just the final piece of cake; it is the hundreds of recipes you went through and tried.
I deeply appreciate those who do not flippantly demand free labour from creatives in ministry - especially within religious settings or faith communities. It is easy to conflate the responsibility others have in their calling, with your "right" to demand free labour from them.
I also appreciate those who understand others' need to disappear for a while. Those who don't demand their pastors to be available 24/7, their musicians to always be performing, their speakers to always be "on". Solitude and space are vital ingredients to a creative workflow. In the same way, they are important for thoughtful theological reflection. As both theologian and creative, I know this to be true.
Respecting each other's work, preparation, research, expertise, process, and skills is a form of respect and appreciation we must preserve and uphold, along with our appreciation of the final product. This not only helps to support those who invest their time and effort in creative ministries, but it increases the likelihood of said work being well-researched and informed. And, I dare say, communicating more responsible and informed theological content is a much needed thing.
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