Gungor – a folk rock band from the United States – have somehow managed to slip under the radar. Despite being nominated for a Grammy Award, touring all over the place, and being loved by many people in the UK and beyond - they still feel somewhat like an undiscovered gem. Deputy editor Phoebe Thompson caught up with lead singer Michael Gungor at LST in the Park, to talk about his music, growing up in the church and how to foster young people’s musical gifts.
YW You grew up as a pastor’s kid – what were the challenges of growing up in church like that?
MG There’s something about the religious world which makes it easy to have this thick plastic shell of ‘everything’s fine, I’ve got everything together’. It seems that those who have those shells often have the biggest secrets. I don’t want anything to do with that, it’s just so false. So I’ve tried to be honest in my life, and with my art. It’s an attempt to find what’s true in my heart. It’s part of what making the art does; it helps me find and articulate truth.
YW Do you think we can try to put on a show to our young people?
MG It’s counteractive not to be authentic. It can’t last. In the long run, young people are going to see that you’re flawed. What are we teaching? Either grace is real or it’s not. If it is, just be honest. Christianity’s never been a religion for perfect people - it’s broken, hurting people that Jesus came to save. I get it, though. I have a daughter who’s just turned three. She thinks I’m perfect right now. I get why you want young people to think you’re perfect and to trust you – it’s certainly a draw. But it doesn’t work. I’ve seen the long-term effects of that with friends of mine. They look up to their parents as perfect, and it never ends well.
Those who are honest, sincere, and own up to their mistakes, and say ‘I know this is not how I should be, but this is how I am right now’, always have better results, better fruit. Honesty and authenticity is always the better route to take.
YW Part of the pretense might be that we are afraid to show our true colours – as we want to set a good example. Do you think that’s right?
MG I think fear affects everything. Even how we read the Bible, our theology, our doctrines. Fear plagues everything and when it does, things get ugly. I love the verse ‘perfect love casts out fear’; I think it’s very true. Times when I’ve grown in my faith and moved forward have always been characterised by an increase of love and a decrease of fear. It’s never the opposite. We can always use this as a guide to question. Is what I’m doing out of love or out of fear? If it seems like the right decision, but you’re doing it out of fear, then it’s not the right. Always pressing in and moving towards love is the best and only thing a Christian should strive to do.
YW A lot of young people these days want to be musicians, or worship leaders. How should youth workers nurture young people without raising false hopes?
MG There’s a delicate tension between fostering gifts and being unrealistic. I once mentored someone who, as a teenager, wanted to be as musician – and I went with it for a while. But then he graduated high school, and he was still talking about it. He was even starting to question whether or not he should go to university. At this point, I couldn’t keep quiet anymore. I had to step in and say ‘I’m sorry, man, it’s not going to happen. You’re not good enough.’ It sucked, but I had to tell him so he didn’t mess up his future by not going to university. At some point in your relationships, you always have to tell the truth.
It’s important – particularly with young people – to make a distinction between calling and career. Just because you’re called to something doesn’t mean it has to be your primary way of making money. Look at Paul - you could say he was called to be an apostle, or a preacher, but he made his living making tents.
YW You’ve just set up a church in the states – a collection of house churches. What was the vision behind this?
MG There’s always something about the next generation of people who have come up in church, seeing what’s working and what’s not working. Once an institution gets kind of crusty, and there’s no room for change, then maybe it’s time for a new organisation which can foster this new idea. Our church was born out of some new dreams and hopes of what the church could be in a specific location at a certain time, which wasn’t necessarily possible in the church we were in. We felt we needed a new plant that could be a little more flexible, bend and grow, to see what could come of it.
My dad did the same thing, he felt he couldn’t do what he was called to where he was, and so started something new. That’s the thing Christianity does: it keeps growing and moving, in new wineskins and all that. There’s something about new community that’s beautiful, as it creates opportunities for fresh voices in cultures. It’s a lot of work, but when you have the calling on your heart to do it, that’s unshakeable.
