Kingdom Waiting

I’m always amazed how Jesus’ parables convey a kingdom not estranged from this world, but very much bound to it.  Despite the eschatological-end times dimension found in Matthew 25, the three stories within focus on the work accomplished in the present.  

In the first narrative we come across ten virgins awaiting the bridegroom in order to enter the wedding festivities. The wise maidens carry extra oil for their lamps. They are able to join the celebration unlike the five who missed the procession due to their search for fuel. The Scout Motto be prepare can be invoked here. The parable of the talents is the second narrative. A master, about to embark on a long journey, entrusts three servants with talantons, dispensed in proportion to their proficiencies.  Here, the good servant multiplies the wealth of the master.

The last tale ushers the listener into the future as the Son of Man sits as king on his throne. Here, we watch him separate people as a shepherd segregates sheep from goats. Those positioned to his right are ones who cared about earthly matters: they fed, clothed, cared.  Yet we must remember these humanitarian concerns are fueled by anticipation for the coming bridegroom, master, king; thus rendering them kingdom works.

Kingly people live life fully in the present, shaped and marked by a future. What, then, does it mean for the wise artist to be prepared? Are we hording, neglecting, or diminishing our talents or are we investing our time and energy to multiplying what the master has apportioned? And, most importantly, does our wisdom and entrepreneurial skills work to re-establish the best of humanity?

If Jesus is the good king his priority becomes care of his kingdom. A thriving kingdom provides the basic needs for its inhabitants; therefore, by seeking human flourishing through our practice of medicine, economics, law, or art, we become kingly servants.

It took the life, death, and resurrection of Christ to re-establish humanity. Let’s follow his lead as we wait for him, the bridegroom, master and king.

--Maria

John 20: The Second Gardener

In the beginning God affirmed matter and set into the cosmos a generative force that allows for both, beauty and sustainability. Yet the fall obscures our perception of his world; lost is our view of the garden. Our need for glory somehow trumps the Triune God’s. Thus, tarnished by brokenness, we no longer see God or the world rightly. This is one reason why art has held such a tenuous position in the church, as well as our culture, for it reflects the status of our soul—our lost sense of beauty.

If we, therefore, want to include the work of our hands as part of our spiritual formation we must develop a Trinitarian view of God that includes the Father’s affirmation of creation, Christ’s redemptive action in the world, and an acknowledgement of the Spirit that accomplishes the Spiritual—seeing God’s presence in the physical world. Revelation by the Spirit helps us trace the dynamic movement of God towards us, through our grime-encrusted reality.

The Gospel of John takes us on such a journey and to another garden. After the crucifixion of Jesus and his entombment, the bereaved Mary identifies the resurrected Christ as gardener. Some may argue that Mary’s mourning leaves her bewildered and muddled. But, could it be possible that Mary possesses the ability to see the genesis of a new story (just as she was able to perceive the two angels in the tomb unlike Peter and John?)

Placed in a virgin tomb, in a garden, the second Adam now appears and reminiscent of Genesis 2, God, now incarnate and resurrected, breathes onto his followers and tells them to “receive the Holy Spirit.” John 20 holds the key to animate our cultural renewal theologies: forgiveness offers a spectacular view of what God has created and assists wholehearted engagement with the world. Christ breathes his Spirit onto his followers to equip them for this mission of reconciliation. Jesus, through the Spirit, reconciles us to the Father and calls us to do the same.

John 20:23 reads: “If you forgive anyone his sins, they are forgiven: if you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven.” This is a crazy statement considering all the flack Jesus himself received when he forgave sins. But, the power given to us by Christ, through the Spirit, apparently empowers us to forgive sins—God is near! This means we acknowledge the brokenness that corrupts God’s world, but out of the Triune God’s love, we forgive these sins. We can only live as forgiven and hopeful people when we look, as the disciples did in the gospel of John, at the scars bore by the resurrected Jesus. And it’s by these scars, fashioned by Christ’s generative action of forgiveness, that will enable the glory and honor of the nations to enter the Holy City. Beauty will finally be recovered.

However, for Mary, Jesus’ humble role as ultimate gardener, the second Adam, also makes him, Rabboni; the one who instructs and constructs the way for us to be human, forgiven, cultivators of beauty.

Receive the Holy Spirit.

--Maria

The Deep Places: Accessibility and Responsibility

ac-cess /'ak,ses/ , n. a means of approach or entering a place.

ac-ces'si-ble, adj. easy to reach or influence.

As artists we have access to a key environment in the structure of a human being. Nigel Goodwin calls it "your belly". Martha Graham calls it "your center". Aretha Franklin calls it "my soul" and King David called it "my innermost being". This deep place exists between dreaming and waking where we are most ourselves, in which no pretense could ever possibly materialize, where the passions and fears that drive our lives are cultivated. But we would be kidding ourselves to think that artists have some kind of original authority or credential at the gateway to the deep places of the human heart. No, it is only in collaborating with the most mysterious Artist of all that we ever even come close to accessing the deepest realms of human longing. It is in this place, the deep place, that we need God to meet us most of all.

So, much of our work as artists is a kind of active or skilled waiting, as we delve into this mysterious place where the Holy Spirit is quite impressively on the move like a merchant sailing a trade route in hostile waters. Much of our work, indeed, is looking, listening and waiting to respond or simply be awed by what the Holy Spirit is doing in us, through us and around us. Unlike us, He is not limited by time, place or resources. He has infinite power to access the deep places in every human heart.

Might we consider that the spiritual responsibility of the artist could be a matter of stewarding the access we’ve been granted to this most potent environment? How are we doing as artists with stewarding the access we have to human hearts? How are we doing as a community of artists within churches...within families...within society? As individuals? Have we learned the discipline of listening, looking and waiting? Are we aware of how He might be moving in our own deep places? Understanding accessibility and responsibility might help us discover an important aspect of our spiritual calling as artists, particularly within the church. But certainly, the first environment we must explore is our own.

Have you been met in the deep places by the Spirit of the living God? Certainly we are being met by many other presences, personas and influences in the deep realms of our hearts from which our longings stir us to daily actions and ways of being; or to use James K. Smith's helpful description, our cultural liturgies. Has the risen Christ stepped into your "inner most being" lately and impacted your "center"? Would you notice if He did? Does He sometimes seem to take flesh in your dreams, or perhaps he's used the melody of a song or a childhood memory to take apart your facade until you crumble at His feet? Has He undone you with His skillful, compassionate artistry? Has he melted your heart with warm fear and penetrating hope?

If artists do not learn to articulate and understand the nature of the spirit’s work through the various mediums of the arts then we may ourselves begin to conceive of a lesser value for the power and access we’ve been given by the grace of God. In this world, we need merciful merchants on the waters of that deep river. Artists do not control the heart, but we can know Him who is the Desire of nations.

It is because of Grace that artist’s can operate in the deep places. Grace was bought with a price. Let us give the Lamb of God the reward of His sufferings. What He seems to desperately want in all of this is to create hearts that are awed by Him and Him alone. As He says, to remove our hearts of stone and give us hearts of flesh. Isn't it ironic that all of the other things that move us deeply and control our lives only make us harder, colder, less alive, less human? But He works with all the maniacal devotion of a research scientist who's discovered a cure, using his own body and blood as the test subject.

Let's look and listen and wait for the Holy Spirit to invade the deep places of our hearts; and as He gives us grace to move others, let's move them to awe at the One who paid such a price to have full access to our hearts.

Kenyon

Our Future Is Now

Sometimes believers work hard at being spiritual, forfeiting the reality of their humanity. Jeremy Begbie, on the other hand, believes it is by the Spirit we grow more authentically human (Begbie, Voicing Creation’s Praise, p. 118). The resurrected life of Christ brings meaning and hope to our bodies—to being human. This hope, according to Gordon Fee, is empowered by Jesus’ resurrection and the gift of the Holy Spirit, which stamps believers with eternity (Fee, Listening to the Spirit in the Text, p.140). As Christians we basically live life geared towards the eschatological—a life imbued with our final outcome—an age when we’ll continuously glorify God in our full Spiritual bodies. According to Fee the early Hebrew believers understood this new age as the life of the Spirit—a fulfillment of a long awaited promise. Artists, we are privileged to live a life filled with the Spirit, looking ahead towards eternity.

What does this mean for artists working in the 21^St century? We must commit to human flourishing. Spiritual renewal is tied to cultural renewal. Having a relationship with Jesus, through the Spirit, enables us to see the world the way God sees it. But it is not enough to keep these visions in our heads. Nicholas Wolterstorff insists “that there is in man a deep dissatisfaction with merely holding in mind his religion.” There is a human longing to make our convictions concrete through song, sculpture, or drama (Wolterstorff, Art in Action, p.145).

It is our job to project through our creations a world that includes the reality of Christ’s glorified wounds. Spirituality can bear the marks of pain and suffering only because they already live with Jesus in the eternal realm. This is true beauty.

Love Jesus, be spiritual, make art.

Maria