A Dialogical Journey

Recently, we’ve had the pleasure of meeting with lots of pastors who are seeking ways to better serve the artists in their cities and congregations. It’s been exciting to see that God’s Spirit is moving in cities around the world to build bridges between artists and communities of faith. These meetings have also given us the opportunity to step back and really clarify the concepts that we have found to be most vital in this dialogue concerning artists and the gospel.

This year, Redeemer Arts Ministries will be embarking on a ministry-wide dialogical journey, exploring what it means for us as artists to allow the Gospel to change our hearts, our communities and our world.

How can we learn to articulate our spiritual callings as artists? What descriptors, what roles and words can we assign to one who is called to the work of renewing culture through art-making? We came up with six descriptive roles or themes in which we'll root our discussions:

The Artist as Disciple

The Artists as Theologian

The Artist as Creator

The Artist as Servant

The Artist as Cultivator

The Artist and Beauty: The Glory of the Lord

Over the course of the ministry year, we will be using these roles as a framework for our discussions at IAF and in the various vocation groups. We invite you to join the dialogue through attending arts ministry events and by posting your responses to our weekly blogs as we unpack these concepts in the coming months.

See you soon at InterArts Fellowship!




Kenyon

Embodied Soul Work

Through Christ, love took form as a body. Jesus, the ultimate love offering, is the foundation for a theology of embodiment. How does this theology relate to artists? Since we will soon relaunch a dance industry vocation group let’s refer to a dancer’s work. Hours of discipline result in wounds and pains to the body; artistic activity can be physically challenging. Yet through the bleeding and bruising we are able to witness the wonder and awe of patterned movement and physical elegance. Beth Felker Jones speaking of Christ, but a fitting remark for a dancer, proclaims, “If we want to know the shape of a holy life, we look at the wounded body.” (Mark of His Wounds, p.111)

Stanley Hauerwas commenting on the disciplined life of the artist writes, “Artists, who must learn to submit to the medium in which they work, demonstrate the kind of training necessary for any of us to see the world rightly.” (Hauerwas, “Fully Human; Art And The Religious Sense.” Image Number 60 (2009): 103) But the regiment of an artist is not just an analogy or a paradigm for the well-ordered life of a Christian, it is reflective of true Christian embodiment. Just as the ascetic directs the body to God, the dancer can likewise make room in the body for God to nourish self and others. What makes anyone want to exert such effort? Love—therefore, Jones is correct, “Love must have a body.” (Mark of His Wounds, p.108)

A theology of embodiment is crucial for our technical age, with our rational ethos. The Church needs dancers, painters, and actors to teach us how to inhabit our bodies. Christians are called to be present in space and know how to move in space with real presence in order for love to take shape physically. Let us, then, offer up to God our bodies and our bodies of work and begin to praise him. Let’s dance.

--Maria

Gold Rush!

Before I moved to New York I was a commuter, coming in on the train from New Haven to audition for Broadway and television. I always made a point to connect with old friends who had found their way to the city. Scouring the theater district near Times Square, I’d knock on stage doors and wait for their tired, cheerful faces to appear. It was like panning for gold, something you can do on the fly if you happen to be walking along a river with a rich mineral deposit. Cities are like that, urban frontiers with gold rush magnetism, rich in culture and opportunity. New York’s gold rush attracts artists from far and wide who come with pockets empty and pans jangling, hoping to find those luminescent moments of glory, crowning their young lives with the shining gold of recognition. But did God really call us to New York City merely to pan for gold, to strive for recognition? Well, no. In His rich love and mercy, God has given us this time and place to graciously shape us (you and I) into His treasured possession. While we do good work and make art happen, we become like rich deposits of gold that shine amid the current of this city.

God meant this to be a richly rewarding journey for us, one that leads to our maturity and wholeness. When we envision our art as the context in which God can do deeply sanctifying work in our lives, then the work of art making, whatever discipline it may be, moves us towards God,not just recognition, approval or a false sense of identity. Such pursuits are poor substitutes for our true callings as servant-leaders. As we strive merely to be faithful with our gifts, we become gifts to others, to the city, and most of all to God. Our true calling is to become like Him in His death and resurrection for the glory of God. Sometimes the “death" can look like a missed opportunity or a seeming failure in which we see what we've been truly trusting for our identity, comfort or hope. I surprised myself last month while having a drink with a friend and chatting about a recent missed opportunity. "That was my only life-line in the city!" I exclaimed with a truly pitiful sigh. He smiled and gently repeated my words back to me with his hand on my shoulder. Thank God for His Holy Spirit who is with us along the way to instruct our hearts and minds as we continue reading scripture daily and prayerfully sharing our lives with others.

In the Screwtape Letters Off-Broadway, Max McLean portrays a voracious demon surviving on human souls for food. During one of his disdainful lectures on “tempting”, he quips that the best way to destroy a human’s spiritual potential is to keep them always focused on the future or past, never enjoying present pleasures or provisions. It's the kind of joke that gets a knowing chuckle from the audience, as we all recognize in ourselves a constant striving for more. In a similar way, a ravenous pursuit of recognition detracts us from our true callings as artists in the city: to enjoy and to become the gift of God. God became a Gift for us in Christ, and we are meant to become like Christ who was a servant to all. So what has become our gold, our treasure? For what reward do we walk by the riverbed with pans jangling? What drives us as we write, rehearse, network, audition, study, design, paint, perform and collaborate?

Recently I came across a video of Bill T. Jones accepting a commission to create a new work. His stark humility and brazen generosity remind me of what a gift it is to be an artist: To have this food for our souls, and to be able to extract meaning from living in a way that is transferrable to others. I’m reminded that I must continue my journey as an artist for some other reason beyond recognition. Even in New York City, those moments are too fleeting to sustain a faithful pursuit of the work. God created us as artists not to pursue the glittering lights of the city but to become the glittering lights of the city. As we work, faithfully pursuing our craft with joy, our art becomes rich deposits in the river, flowing steadily on toward the city of God.

Take care in the city, friends. I hear there's gold in that river!

Kenyon

Video of Bill T. Jones, Receiving a commission

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tt3fdKj-P6Y&feature=related